Word! I’ve got 21 days (October 22) until my 32nd birthday. Hold the applause please. I am not looking forward to being that much closer to 40, lol.
That’s 21 days of no McDonald’s, no sweet potato fries, no pancakes, no sweets, no bread, little to no carbs, tennis twice a day (morning and night), checking in on the scale daily, taking my vitamins, laying off the Starbucks, hiking at least four times a week (Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays), hitting the track at least three times a week, and just keeping it together.
It’s going to be a challenge but I am hellbent on getting into my lil Black dress, COMFORTABLY. I can still fit it, don’t get it twisted, but there’s a difference between getting into an outfit and WEARING an outfit. I want to wear it. Holla.
Random thought. Okay so why was I crying the other night watching the “Biggest Loser?” I was cleaning my bedroom with the television on and it just so happened to be on NBC. Now I don’t normally watch the show. I am not sure if I ever watched the show to be honest. But it was on and before I knew it I was hooked starring into the boob tube sobbing like baby. Shay is my girl! I love her and I really connected with her. When it came down to her team or the other team and those two guys gave up their spots so she could stay, let’s just say it wasn’t my finest moment. I am getting to soft because I was in tears for real.
Confession time. I was in Washington D.C. for a week for CBC and I ate like I didn’t have any sense. Damn room service and receptions with waiters holding trays full of goodies always up in your face. Damn them all to hell, lol! So I am back at home and it’s on. I have got to get this damn tummy down. Your girl cannot afford a tummy tuck because trust me, if I could…
I don’t know what my obsession with my weight is these days but it’s a little on the 5150 side. I mean it’s like I know what I am not supposed to eat and then there I go. And it’s all emotional, let me tell you that. When I was watching “The Cleveland Show,” I got so pissed off the next thing I know I am in the drive thru. WTF is up with that? I gotta figure out how to get that in check. That’s really what’s holding me back because I lose the weight so easily now that I play sports and exercise but I fuck it up with the eating. If anyone out there has a suggestion, I am all ears. The kangaroo pouch has got to go. It used to be a muffin top, but now it just looks like I am pregnant, not a good look when you’re single.
Speaking of being single…yeah…no new news there, lol.
Not sure what I am going to do for my birthday. In a perfect world, I’d fly to London and see my two favorite folks in concerts Eric Roberson and Choklate in November. That would be my present to myself. After the concert, I could go and stalk Coldplay and try and find Amy to have a heart to heart talk about how her drug abuse is depriving her fans of much needed music from her. I don’t know we’ll see. I do want to do something just not sure what. Another idea I am floating around in my head is going to Knot’s Scary Farm. Which, is not a bad idea as long as I remember to bring an extra pair of underwear and a pack of Depends. Don’t laugh. I know I am not the only person with a weak bladder that gets weaker when people are jumping out of bushes trying to scare the shit out of you but end up scarring the pee out of you.
Well, I’ll check back in next week and give a progress update…wish me luck!