Blech!

I love food. No doubt about that. And for 37 years I pretty much ate anything and everything. Even post-op I find that sometimes I tolerate slightly substandard tastes just so I can "enjoy" foods that I crave emotionally.

But I do not love this food. Muscle Milk's protein pudding was so utterly disgusting that I didn't even finish one cup. And the three remaining ones? Going to support group with me tomorrow to be given away to desperate protein seekers.

You know those cans of cranberry relish that you open to slide out the contents, perfectly preserved and proudly bearing can grooves? Now imagine pudding like that, only gray. Pudding that taste like swill from weak chocolate milk--a mix of generic chocolate syrup and reconstituted powdered milk--spit back into a glass and left to age for a day two or so.

It wasn't even THAT good. Because it also had an overwhelming tinny tang that tasted like someone stashed a copper penny in the gunk and never took it out.

I've got to stop writing now. Just the thought of the stuff is giving me the dry heaves.

New fave

Being the coffee fiend that I am, I'm always on the look out for new varieties to try. Finally, there's one that helps me get in my protein, too! Javasoy from Adler Foods combines Columbian coffee and soybeans to offer a drinkable 8-oucne cuppa joe that also has 5gm of protein and half the caffeine of regular grinds.

For coffee purists, it's not like drinking the real thing. But it's good enough! In fact, I doctor up the grounds by adding ground alapepo pepper, cinnamon, clove, peppercorn and a dash of nutmeg. Chug a lug!

I bought the regular breakfast blend because I wanted to play around with my own flavors. I can't vouch for any others.

I don't have a drip pot up and running, but I did make some in my French press with good results. I made some pods for my Melitta, but the grind makes it difficult to pull a good brew.

Better Day

So all the things that made yesterday so horrific were still lingering in the air. But I did get a better night's sleep, so at least I started with an edge. The PFH (project from hell) has not yet been snuffed out, although the issues that feed its eternal flame of damnation were somewhat resolved. I did have a great afternoon meeting that made up for a large part of the morning fiasco. And best of all? My honey sent me 4 dozen teacup roses! She always comes through.

What a day

I had a bad day. Not food-wise, really. Just bad overall. It started out down the wrong path when I went to bed last night. And by the time I got ready to leave work at 6 p.m. today and realized that someone had stolen my expensive, malitol-laced muffin and ate it, the only thing I could do was wish evil bathroom torture on that person's intestines. That and have a fit of road rage. Ok, so I did both. Bastards. Here's to a better tomorrow. I hope the shithead who ate my muffin runs out of toilet paper--and that they had already eaten a bunch of baked Lays. Ha!

What's Normal?

Yesterday was a normal food day for me. By that, I mean I ate reasonable portions of healthy foods in relative moderation.

It struck me that somewhere in the last 18 months "normal" eating for me migrated from gorging food fests of greasy burgers, ice cream and cookies to consuming vegetables, fruits and animal proteins. My point of reference has changed.

Now when I eat (or think I eat) like I used to, I feel yucky and bad about myself. I know it's not what's right for me. I might think it will make me feel better emotionally, but in the end I always feel worse.

Home Again

I've been back on Milwaukee soil for all of 51 minutes. How sad is it that the first thing I do is check my email and write a blog entry?

My business trip to NY went very well. Much accomplishmed. I wish I could tell you about it, but then I would have to kill you. Stay tuned. January 2009 is a long way off in real-world time. But in the publishing world, it's like 6 month. And I promise, it will be worth the wait.

For the past 38 hours, all I've eaten is fake protein (bars) and pretend food (soy chips and yogurt.) I want MEAT. Tomorrow. I'm still detoxing from the Lucky Charms binge on Friday.

Tomorrow is a new day. A new stab at healthy eating. I can't get too down on myself for not being perfect (although I think I am and act like it.) I fit in airplane seats like a normal person and two years ago I never thought that'd happen.

My words for today: beautiful, worthy, confident, capable. I'll explain another time.

Winter SUX and so do Lucky Charms.

I am not in NYC tonight, have drinks in some trendy hotel bar with my friend. I am in shithole Milwaukee.

Friggin' snow and east coast wusses. Cancel the flights? It sure as hell better be a big snow storm blowing about. And with the cancellations, I still don't have a definite flight plan for Monday when I actually do need to be in the city for a meeting the next day.

On the upside, I have a free weekend to do what I want--and no one is expecting me to do a damn thing. Thinking about some shopping. Maybe a trip north to see the folks. Possibly some closet cleaning. Could do a few new videos for YouTube. (Dang MM. It's all her fault.) Or I could do nothing.



I can tell you I'm not going to eat another Lucky Charm. I think I ate about 2000 calories of crap today. Seriously. My gut is churning from the junk I stuffed into the pouch. I haven't eaten with such abandon in a long, long time. I swear to god, sugar is addicting. I honestly could not stop my brain from thinking about the crap. I had no will power whatsoever. I couldn't even get that flippin' "nothing tastes as good as thin feels" mantra to do its brainwashing thing. Tomorrow, it's protein all day. I have to make sure I stay in the size 12 black jeans I bought this week. Yep, you read that right. SIZE 12! I think that's what I wore in 5th grade--or at least what the tag read on the shorts from Gayle Englebrecht, my mom's friend.

I'm rambling. Whatever. Deal. Snow sux.

Post #200

Just like a TV sitcom. Here it is...post 200. I wish I had something insightful to write.

But the fact of the matter is that it's only 8 a.m. and I've already eaten about 3 cups of chocolate coated Lucky Charms. I have the biggest sugar buzz I've ever had. And the only thing that's keeping me from tossing my cookies is that I'm too dizzy to stand up and walk into the bathroom. When I feel the phlegm rise up, I just swallow extra hard.

I leave tonight for a long weekend in NYC. I have a meeting on Tuesday at our corporate headquarters, so it made sense to spend a few extra days in the city. MOMA, the Met, TKTS, shopping. Staying at the Millennium on Broadway. Mostly, I'm looking forward to spending time with my dear friend Steven.

Check out my new video.

Scale Drama

I haven't lost any weight in months.

I'm hovering around 166. Sometimes it's 162. Sometimes it's 169.

I have great days when I get in plenty of protein, lots of water and all my veggies. And then I have days when I'm a cracker ho. Last night, I ate mini cupcakes.

Putting it all in perspective, though, I guess I'm doing ok. A couple years ago I would have made 2 dozen full-size cupcakes and then ate 3 of them. Far cry from a few mini ones.

Food's not going away. I'm learning to live with it. I am my own worst enemy, not food. Call me normal, I guess.

PB4ME

Peanut butter is a gift from the gods. And this stuff had to be sent especially for bariatric patients.
PB2 Powdered Peanut Butter from Bell Plantation is absolutely divine.

It tastes just like regular peanut butter, but has just 75% of the fat. Two tablespoons of the powder has 54 calories vs. 200 in two tablespoons of regular stuff.

I ordered four jars without tasting it first. I wish I had ordered eight. I mix it whipped cream for mousse. Add it to my protein drinks. Eat is mixed with just water on popcorn cakes.

I wish I could sell it and make a fortune. But since I can't, go buy it from these folks!

I luv me them Filet-o-Fish

I realized today as I drove down Bluemound Road and passed the neighborhood McDonald's that was robbed two weeks ago at gunpoint when the store opened at 4:30 a.m. that I miss Filet-o-Fish sandwiches.

Just seeing that scrolling sign screaming 2 for $3 made me drool. I can practically taste the salty tartar sauce and feel the congealed cheese slices stick to the roof of my mouth when I think about them.

It's been two lenten seasons since I last had those piping hot, breaded pollock slabs. I loved the 2/$3 special. I remember jamming the sandwiches in my mouth as I drove so that by the time I got to the next McD's I could buy another couple. I'd could eat six in a day. Okay, not all at once. But two for lunch, plus two for a snack on my way to buy two for dinner.

I suppose I don't miss the grease stains on the front my blouses or the oil streaks on my car's upholstery from oozing sauce and hot splatters. And, I can honestly say, I don't miss the 150+ pounds that resulted from pigfest rampages caused by seasonal sales on fast food.

Don't worry. I'm not going to eat any this year. It's been 19 months since I ate fast food. I even sat in a McDonald's playland for 2 hours on Sunday and never swiped a fry. I want to be able to say, some day, that I haven't eaten at (or from) a McDonald's in five years. I'd rather have the sweetness of that success coming from my tongue than the fat and calories of my beloved Filet-o-Fish on the tip of it.

No. 17

Milwaukee recorded it's 17th homicide of 2007 early Saturday morning.

The newspaper article in the Journal Sentinel didn't name the 22-year-old man, but I can tell you his 13-year-old sister called him Jay.

There's lots the story didn't report, but his family could. Like how his chest looked like a gaping hole from the the bullet wounds. How his 16-year-old brother watched a shooting unfold, and then sat (maybe still sits) in jail while the police sort out a half dozen stories. How his mom worries about burying her oldest child, the one that came with her to Milwaukee when she was 19 and he was just 1.

I have never been remotely connected to this type of violence. For the first time, I'm seeing it sweep up a family in grief, anger, confusion, shock.

I don't know what to say when a 9-year-old tells me that she knows he got shot, but why did he have to get shot so many times? I don't know how to answer the 3-year-old who repeats, repeats and repeats "Jay's dead."

When I got to know Raven and stepped into the mentor role, I knew her life was different than mine. I expected to show her options, give her hope, offer her an alternative to her world. I didn't expect to be offered one to my own. I didn't think I'd be walking in hers. Naive of me, I know.

But here I am. One 13-year-old girl away from No. 17.

Confession time

In the past I have been hypercritical of post-op WLS people who criticize fat people, look down on them, etc. Hey, we were there--we were them--once upon a time.

And while I thought I was superior in my empathy and acceptance, I am beginning to realize that I am repulsed by huge, over-sized, cellulose laden, mishapen asses. And the people who think they look good with them.

There's this woman at work who has one such ass. It's big. And, speaking as a lesbian, I often appreciate ample asses. But this one is big and the owner has a lack of understanding regarding her girth. Some asses should not sport thongs and low-rise pants. Hers. One of them.

And now she's pregnant. In some ways, I am mesmerized by pregnant bellys and the cool shapes they take on. Her's isn't so bad. But her ass is growing and she's still wearing the same thongs. You can see that tiny strip tugging at the top of her crack through her too-tight pants.

Part of me can't help but stare. Part of me wants to puke.

Maybe what turns me off the most is this person's apparent (assumed on my part) lack of self-awareness. How could she not see that her ass is not meant to wear the pants she puts on? And how the hell can a thong be comfortable when you're pregant? Tell me!

My partner has a big butt. I like it. Even when she was smaller, she had a big butt. So why does this other woman's ass freak me out?