I've been impatient all my life. It's just another one of my many flaws, I suppose! I don't like waiting for anything. I used to hate waiting in line, but I think that had more to do with not being able to physically stand there than anything else. Still...I'm not one for waiting.
So this last 15 pounds or so is driving me nuts with the way it's coming off so slowly! Seriously. I know so-called 'normal, healthy weight loss' is supposed to be one to two pounds a week. But it's killing me. Now I'm not perfect. I eat some things I probably shouldn't and have been known to skip the gym occasionally. If I went all Navy Seal on my body, I could lose it faster. I'm trying to settle into a manageable, lifelong routine of eating and moving - something I can live with forever. I understand that means the weight loss will slow down. That doesn't mean I like it! LOL!
I've had a lot of stress in my life this past week so the Food Brat part of my personality emerged somewhat. Man, sometimes your kids just kill your soul, you know? The disappointment is physically hurtful. Nothing you can do about it. I feel worse for Erich than myself but it is what it is.
I have particular trouble with late-night snacking. I think it's boredom compounded with stress. I need to find other outlets for that time period around 10 p.m. where I think 'Ho-hum, guess I'll have a handful of peanuts' and I'm not even hungry. Now I've said before that I don't believe in cut-off times for eating. If it's 11 p.m. and I'm hungry, I will eat something. The clock doesn't rule my life. But I gotta get rid of the Food Brat. However, when I do snack, I try to make good choices so that's probably what's saving my ass from gaining.
I've lost two pounds this week. On Friday, I was down one and this morning I weighed myself again (I always do before I blog) and was down one more. So I weigh 209 now, 13 pounds to goal. It's so close I can taste it. And I do not want to wait another 13 freakin' weeks to get there. Impatience.
But here's the really weird part. It doesn't seem to matter what I do. I can have a Food Brat week and lose two or three pounds. Then I can be very vigilant about my diet and workouts and lose one. It's really enough to drive a person nuts. My surgeon, Dr. Genaw, told me when I last saw him that varying your caloric intake is good for your metabolism. So maybe - every now and then - having something to eat out of the norm is good for you. Do not go all KFC or Pizza Hut on your diet, but small changes. When I told him my intake varied from 1100-1400 a day, he said that was good as long as I watched that 1400 number, didn't go much higher than that and only occasionally. And I know my trainer told me not to do the same workouts all the time because your body gets used to it and will not respond after a while. I know from experience that is true. I need to switch things up to keep my body guessing.
I have to watch my impatience because that in and of itself can cause stress which brings out the Food Brat and the wheels on the bus go round and round. This week my goal is to find ways to beat back the brat by combating boredom and stress. Wish me luck.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Memories
I was thinking the other day about memories. Not the kind that are warm & fuzzy, but the kind you think back on and never want to repeat. Memories about the way life used to be for me before I had this surgery. Some might say the life I had pre-op is better left to the ash heap but I feel it's good to keep certain things in mind so when I want to reach for that second Timbit (which, I've decided, are the devil's candy), it's easier to say no.
When choosing this apartment, I had to consider the stairs of the building. Did I want to climb up a flight (or two) or go down a flight? This would determine what floor we lived on. So that's why we have a basement apartment. Not as bad as it sounds - it's really quite nice with tons of large windows. However, I'd love to have a balcony. But that would've meant climbing stairs or living in a more expensive building with an elevator. No balcony for Cindy. Now, when I'm home and want to leave, of course I still have to go up a flight but better that than carrying groceries up some stairs, right?
Carrying groceries. Um yeah. I hardly ever did that. Anything that had to be hauled out of the car was Erich's job. I usually stumbled in the door and collapsed on the couch for about an hour after we went anywhere. I was usually hot, in pain and completely exhausted. I've seen him make 5 or 6 trips to the car to bring stuff in, especially after we'd been on vacation or something. I always felt guilty about that but there was no way I could help him. Now I beat him back and forth to the car, trotting up and down that flight of stairs like it's nothing.
I sit in the bath now and run my hands along the water at my sides and remember when my ass made a pretty good Hoover Dam-like stopper. I remember 20 years ago shopping for a trailer with my ex-husband and one of the main selling points of the eventual winner was the 'garden' tub in the master bathroom. It was about 1-1/2 times as wide as a normal tub - SOLD! I do love my baths. Now the size of the tub really doesn't matter. Even hotel tubs work. This may seem like a small thing, but it's a big deal to me. Also, getting out of the tub used to involve mechanics better reserved for four-point parallel parking. Roll to the side..stop. Grab side of tub and hoist body up on one knee...stop. Count to three then liiiiffffttt!!!...stop. Stand there a second to re-gain balance...stop. Now I simply...get up. Stop.
'Shopping' used to mean two stores. And usually for bottoms only. It was a rare circumstance when I could find a top to fit me anywhere, in any store, plus size or not. Can you imagine what it feels like to try on a 6X - knowing that is the biggest size in any store you can get to - and it doesn't fit? I hoarded clothes. I had shirts in my closet that were more than 10 years old. I wore them long after they should've been thrown out due to wear and tear or style. I never knew where my next shirt was coming from. My mother-in-law made a lot of stuff for me, thank GOD, but I couldn't just go out and get something new. Ever. Now there are things in my closet less than a year - even 6 months - old and I'm having to get rid of them because they're too big. It's a little traumatic for me. I hate to part with my clothes; it's a psychological thing, I guess. I need to remember that I can wear things in any store now. I can always go get more clothes.
I remember when I longed to be invisible. It's an odd thing that the bigger you are, the more people try their best to ignore you and the more you WANT them to do just that because attention you do receive is likely to be condescending or insulting. I don't mind bright colours or tighter clothes now. I don't need or want to hide. I will get on the dance floor, I will walk right past a pack of teenage boys, I will look people in the eye and smile at them. All without fearing being laughed at. It's a work in progress but I'm getting there. Just yesterday I walked past a group of teenagers laughing and talking and didn't have any paranoia that they were laughing at me. That's a good feeling.
I could go on and on and on but you get the idea. I never could've imagined life this way. I've mentioned this word before but it's just freedom. Freedom from fear, really. Fear eats at you till you obey its every whim without a second thought. Letting go of the fucking fear is so hard. People look at me differently now and sometimes I wonder why; that's the old fear creeping in. Don't wonder - just live your life! This is how normal, happy people live. I tell myself 'remember the way life used to be and resolve never to go back'. Sweeping Cindy, right? Out with the old and in with the new.
Now onto lighter subjects. There's a link in the left-hand column to a fantastic blog I visit frequently. The World According to Eggface is very helpful to post-ops. She just gave her blog a facelift and is having a contest to celebrate! She's giving away a variety pack of Torani syrups. These syrups are way cool and very handy to have in the post-op world. They're difficult for Canadians to get our hands on, though, and I usually import them when I got home to Ohio. So, I'm entering. Fellow readers, especially my gastric bypass patient readers, check out Eggface and leave a comment on her contest blog to enter.
I'm gonna post her snazzy new button thingy just because she asked:
When choosing this apartment, I had to consider the stairs of the building. Did I want to climb up a flight (or two) or go down a flight? This would determine what floor we lived on. So that's why we have a basement apartment. Not as bad as it sounds - it's really quite nice with tons of large windows. However, I'd love to have a balcony. But that would've meant climbing stairs or living in a more expensive building with an elevator. No balcony for Cindy. Now, when I'm home and want to leave, of course I still have to go up a flight but better that than carrying groceries up some stairs, right?
Carrying groceries. Um yeah. I hardly ever did that. Anything that had to be hauled out of the car was Erich's job. I usually stumbled in the door and collapsed on the couch for about an hour after we went anywhere. I was usually hot, in pain and completely exhausted. I've seen him make 5 or 6 trips to the car to bring stuff in, especially after we'd been on vacation or something. I always felt guilty about that but there was no way I could help him. Now I beat him back and forth to the car, trotting up and down that flight of stairs like it's nothing.
I sit in the bath now and run my hands along the water at my sides and remember when my ass made a pretty good Hoover Dam-like stopper. I remember 20 years ago shopping for a trailer with my ex-husband and one of the main selling points of the eventual winner was the 'garden' tub in the master bathroom. It was about 1-1/2 times as wide as a normal tub - SOLD! I do love my baths. Now the size of the tub really doesn't matter. Even hotel tubs work. This may seem like a small thing, but it's a big deal to me. Also, getting out of the tub used to involve mechanics better reserved for four-point parallel parking. Roll to the side..stop. Grab side of tub and hoist body up on one knee...stop. Count to three then liiiiffffttt!!!...stop. Stand there a second to re-gain balance...stop. Now I simply...get up. Stop.
'Shopping' used to mean two stores. And usually for bottoms only. It was a rare circumstance when I could find a top to fit me anywhere, in any store, plus size or not. Can you imagine what it feels like to try on a 6X - knowing that is the biggest size in any store you can get to - and it doesn't fit? I hoarded clothes. I had shirts in my closet that were more than 10 years old. I wore them long after they should've been thrown out due to wear and tear or style. I never knew where my next shirt was coming from. My mother-in-law made a lot of stuff for me, thank GOD, but I couldn't just go out and get something new. Ever. Now there are things in my closet less than a year - even 6 months - old and I'm having to get rid of them because they're too big. It's a little traumatic for me. I hate to part with my clothes; it's a psychological thing, I guess. I need to remember that I can wear things in any store now. I can always go get more clothes.
I remember when I longed to be invisible. It's an odd thing that the bigger you are, the more people try their best to ignore you and the more you WANT them to do just that because attention you do receive is likely to be condescending or insulting. I don't mind bright colours or tighter clothes now. I don't need or want to hide. I will get on the dance floor, I will walk right past a pack of teenage boys, I will look people in the eye and smile at them. All without fearing being laughed at. It's a work in progress but I'm getting there. Just yesterday I walked past a group of teenagers laughing and talking and didn't have any paranoia that they were laughing at me. That's a good feeling.
I could go on and on and on but you get the idea. I never could've imagined life this way. I've mentioned this word before but it's just freedom. Freedom from fear, really. Fear eats at you till you obey its every whim without a second thought. Letting go of the fucking fear is so hard. People look at me differently now and sometimes I wonder why; that's the old fear creeping in. Don't wonder - just live your life! This is how normal, happy people live. I tell myself 'remember the way life used to be and resolve never to go back'. Sweeping Cindy, right? Out with the old and in with the new.
Now onto lighter subjects. There's a link in the left-hand column to a fantastic blog I visit frequently. The World According to Eggface is very helpful to post-ops. She just gave her blog a facelift and is having a contest to celebrate! She's giving away a variety pack of Torani syrups. These syrups are way cool and very handy to have in the post-op world. They're difficult for Canadians to get our hands on, though, and I usually import them when I got home to Ohio. So, I'm entering. Fellow readers, especially my gastric bypass patient readers, check out Eggface and leave a comment on her contest blog to enter.
I'm gonna post her snazzy new button thingy just because she asked:
Sunday, August 15, 2010
My life lately
I've lost five pounds in the past couple weeks. For me, this is progress. The weight is coming off verrrryyyy slooowwwly at this point. I'm trying to step it up, mix it up and see what happens. I have been told that your body knows when you've lost enough and will settle into a goal weight of its own choosing. Oh yeah? Well, I'm not done yet. I'm the boss here!
No one has ever mentioned a goal weight to me. Not my family doctor and not anyone at Henry Ford Hospital. I believe there was a conscious effort to just get me to LOSE WEIGHT without obsessing about specific numbers. The losing-250-pounds thing is all me, all my goal. My BMI will still be too high when I get there - still in the 'obese' range. I know that weighing 194 pounds is still 'too much' according to every insurance chart on earth. And I really don't care. I did some figuring and it seems I need to get down to 170 to be on the HIGH end of 'normal'. Well, um...I don't think that's realistic. I would look pretty freakin' skeletal at 170 (remember, I weigh 212 right now). I have no desire to bust my ass fitting some sort of proper mold. I've never been normal before so why bother at this point? This is about as normal as it gets, I think. LOL!
I made a decision a couple weeks ago. Magazines are taking over my life, dude. I once wrote a My Space blog about my obsession with magazines. I don't have time to read actual books anymore! And we won't even go into the expense. So they gotta go. I'm not going cold turkey because there's no way I'm on this planet without People magazine (shut up), but most of them are history. Got two new books recently - Shakespeare Undead and The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner: An Eclipse Novella (Twilight Saga). Plus I have several more sitting on a shelf that I need to get to. This is all about the new me, I think. Sweeping Cindy - out with the old and in with the new. I can't take the clutter anymore.
I went to the gym on Tuesday and got invited out to coffee. Trouble was, I think she was interested in more than coffee. Ok. I KNOW she was. And yes, she was a she. I go to a women-only gym. Color me shocked! That's a new one. I've seen her there many times but of course my mind never went there. I guess hers did. LOL! WTF? Is there something about me that screams 'lesbian'? I can't figure out why she would proposition me but I have to admit it was flattering. I told her I was married...to a guy...(I specified because gay marriage is legal here) and she went on her way. I told her I was sorry and she said 'No, I'm the one who's sorry. But we can be friends, right?' I said 'sure' and that was it. Odd as a cod, I'm telling you. I'm still not used to men looking at me differently now, let alone a WOMAN making a pass at me. My husband was terribly amused by all of this, as were my male co-workers.
I'm loving Eminem's comeback. I've always absolutely loved him and am sooooo happy to see the success of his new CD, 'Recovery'. Say what you want about him, he's honest. Erich and I are huge fans - he's on my concert wish list. I don't know which current chart hit I like better - 'Not Afraid' or his duet with Rihanna - 'Love the Way You Lie', which must feel like a very personal song to her. Fantastic stuff.
Halloween is about 2-1/2 months away and I'm already so looking forward to it, I can't even explain it! It's always been my favorite holiday but I haven't been able to dress up the way I want to since I was a child out trick-or-treating. This year, I'm going to walk into a store and pick out a cute costume that will fit me just fine. I'm just freakin' STOKED about being able to do that. Last year, I still couldn't wear the plus-sized ones in stores but I was able to order one online (which I'd never been able to do before). I was happy with that costume but hey...it's something else to walk in and pick something out off the rack. Totally can't wait. I'll be doing the time warp with a grin on my face.
So that's all the stuff falling out of my brain this morning. Eighteen more pounds to go till I reach my goal. It really feels within reach and it's exciting.
No one has ever mentioned a goal weight to me. Not my family doctor and not anyone at Henry Ford Hospital. I believe there was a conscious effort to just get me to LOSE WEIGHT without obsessing about specific numbers. The losing-250-pounds thing is all me, all my goal. My BMI will still be too high when I get there - still in the 'obese' range. I know that weighing 194 pounds is still 'too much' according to every insurance chart on earth. And I really don't care. I did some figuring and it seems I need to get down to 170 to be on the HIGH end of 'normal'. Well, um...I don't think that's realistic. I would look pretty freakin' skeletal at 170 (remember, I weigh 212 right now). I have no desire to bust my ass fitting some sort of proper mold. I've never been normal before so why bother at this point? This is about as normal as it gets, I think. LOL!
I made a decision a couple weeks ago. Magazines are taking over my life, dude. I once wrote a My Space blog about my obsession with magazines. I don't have time to read actual books anymore! And we won't even go into the expense. So they gotta go. I'm not going cold turkey because there's no way I'm on this planet without People magazine (shut up), but most of them are history. Got two new books recently - Shakespeare Undead and The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner: An Eclipse Novella (Twilight Saga). Plus I have several more sitting on a shelf that I need to get to. This is all about the new me, I think. Sweeping Cindy - out with the old and in with the new. I can't take the clutter anymore.
I went to the gym on Tuesday and got invited out to coffee. Trouble was, I think she was interested in more than coffee. Ok. I KNOW she was. And yes, she was a she. I go to a women-only gym. Color me shocked! That's a new one. I've seen her there many times but of course my mind never went there. I guess hers did. LOL! WTF? Is there something about me that screams 'lesbian'? I can't figure out why she would proposition me but I have to admit it was flattering. I told her I was married...to a guy...(I specified because gay marriage is legal here) and she went on her way. I told her I was sorry and she said 'No, I'm the one who's sorry. But we can be friends, right?' I said 'sure' and that was it. Odd as a cod, I'm telling you. I'm still not used to men looking at me differently now, let alone a WOMAN making a pass at me. My husband was terribly amused by all of this, as were my male co-workers.
I'm loving Eminem's comeback. I've always absolutely loved him and am sooooo happy to see the success of his new CD, 'Recovery'. Say what you want about him, he's honest. Erich and I are huge fans - he's on my concert wish list. I don't know which current chart hit I like better - 'Not Afraid' or his duet with Rihanna - 'Love the Way You Lie', which must feel like a very personal song to her. Fantastic stuff.
Halloween is about 2-1/2 months away and I'm already so looking forward to it, I can't even explain it! It's always been my favorite holiday but I haven't been able to dress up the way I want to since I was a child out trick-or-treating. This year, I'm going to walk into a store and pick out a cute costume that will fit me just fine. I'm just freakin' STOKED about being able to do that. Last year, I still couldn't wear the plus-sized ones in stores but I was able to order one online (which I'd never been able to do before). I was happy with that costume but hey...it's something else to walk in and pick something out off the rack. Totally can't wait. I'll be doing the time warp with a grin on my face.
So that's all the stuff falling out of my brain this morning. Eighteen more pounds to go till I reach my goal. It really feels within reach and it's exciting.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Food brat
Are you a food brat? Do you do the mental equivalent of crossing your arms, pouting and whining "But I waaaannnt it!!!" You, too?
Pre-op, I had no limits. If I wanted it and it was in front of me, I ate it. I didn't give much thought to the calories, fat, salt, or sugar in anything I ate. I ate as much as I wanted, whenever I liked - whatever I liked. Think about how crazy that is for a minute. There is precious little that it is ok to have in limitless quantities. There's love. Um, that's about it. And even too much of that can make you just as uncomfortable as inhaling an entire pie or pizza.
Now, it has become second nature to me to read food labels and pay attention to what I put in my mouth. I find myself saying things like "I'm not drinking my calories." or "No bread; it fills me up too much and doesn't leave room for protein."
Erich, my stepdaughter Ericha and I spent the past week in Ohio visiting my family. It never fails - when I go home I eat more. I'm not sure if it's because I'm so comfortable, I get bored without my usual routine, the food choices found there that aren't here, or what it is but it's a pattern I'm noticing the last few times I've been back to Ohio. I tend to snack there, which I don't do much of here. I notice it even when I'm not in Ohio but just on vacation in general. I suppose that's normal for most people but I don't like it and am determined not to let my inner food brat emerge.
I was eating a third handful of cheese doodles at my friend Paris's house on Saturday when it hit me. What the hell??? I'm not hungry. So why am I eating? And something that's total junk, too. I'd been doing similar stuff all week. A cookie here, some chips there. Just because I wanted it? Not a good enough reason. Grow up, Cindy.
The quest for food maturity. Ah yes. That is the goal that must be reached to maintain weight loss. The ability to recognize the difference between want and need. And making the right choices - the ones that will best fuel my body. There is no taking a vacation from being good to yourself.
I'm not saying become a food NAZI. Just strive to do better. Perfection is overrated. That's my theory, anyway. Who needs the ulcer?
I had a wonderful time in the States. My brother didn't recognize me, which was a total hoot. He came into the family reunion, sat down with his family, and after 20 minutes he turned to his wife and said "Where's Cindy?" She pointed at me at the other end of the table and said "She's right there." My brother was quite embarrassed and I'm sure this will be the stuff of family legend for years to come.
It was a relaxing time. Shopping, catching up with old friends and family. That sort of thing. I bought a size-16 pair of jeans at Old Navy - that's the smallest yet. I took an 18 and 20 into the fitting room, came back out and told Erich "They're both too big." I can't keep up sometimes.
The three of us went to the county fair one day and I rode the 'big' rides they had. It was quite a shock because I haven't been on anything like that for a good 15-20 years. But I wanted to do it because I could fit on them. I ventured onto the last one by myself, even.
At the end of the week, we drove to Niagara Falls, New York for a Bo show at the Seneca Falls Casino. What an amazing show! It was Ericha's first time seeing him and man, it was a good one. She really enjoyed herself. We met with him afterwards and she said to me later "I couldn't talk to him. I felt like I was gonna cry for some reason." I just smiled, nodded and said "Welcome to our world." She had fun hanging with all my Bo friends, too. It was good to share that with her. Bo was his sweet self, telling me I "looked beautiful" and "very healthy." Erich forgot his Bo Bice ballcap at home and jokingly apologized to Bo (who had already complimented his CSI cap...LOL). Bo just grinned and said it was ok, he'd see him again. And he will! LOL! I told him Ericha was my daughter and he said "This is your daughter?" then complimented her pink hair. Actually, everywhere we went all week, she got stopped and complimented on her hair. I love it myself and am thinking of some pink highlights or something. Heh.
After sending Ericha back across the border to her mom, Erich and I headed over to Rochester and the Paris Hilton (NY Division). The next day we traveled to Watkins Glen, NY for yet another Bo concert at a NASCAR event. I'm sure Bo was like a giddy little boy for this venue as he is a huge NASCAR fan. Me, not so much. LOL! Lots of walking for that one, plus standing for the entire show; it would've done me in before. No meet and greet afterwards but I did get a wink and a smile as he went onstage. It was a good weekend with wonderful friends and great music.
Despite being a bit of a food brat over the past week, I managed to lose three pounds. So I'm at 214 - 230 lbs. lost, 20 more to go. It's going too slowly. I'm getting set to work my ass off for these last 20 pounds.
Some pics from my summer vacation - the first one there is me with my mother. As always, click to enlarge.
Pre-op, I had no limits. If I wanted it and it was in front of me, I ate it. I didn't give much thought to the calories, fat, salt, or sugar in anything I ate. I ate as much as I wanted, whenever I liked - whatever I liked. Think about how crazy that is for a minute. There is precious little that it is ok to have in limitless quantities. There's love. Um, that's about it. And even too much of that can make you just as uncomfortable as inhaling an entire pie or pizza.
Now, it has become second nature to me to read food labels and pay attention to what I put in my mouth. I find myself saying things like "I'm not drinking my calories." or "No bread; it fills me up too much and doesn't leave room for protein."
Erich, my stepdaughter Ericha and I spent the past week in Ohio visiting my family. It never fails - when I go home I eat more. I'm not sure if it's because I'm so comfortable, I get bored without my usual routine, the food choices found there that aren't here, or what it is but it's a pattern I'm noticing the last few times I've been back to Ohio. I tend to snack there, which I don't do much of here. I notice it even when I'm not in Ohio but just on vacation in general. I suppose that's normal for most people but I don't like it and am determined not to let my inner food brat emerge.
I was eating a third handful of cheese doodles at my friend Paris's house on Saturday when it hit me. What the hell??? I'm not hungry. So why am I eating? And something that's total junk, too. I'd been doing similar stuff all week. A cookie here, some chips there. Just because I wanted it? Not a good enough reason. Grow up, Cindy.
The quest for food maturity. Ah yes. That is the goal that must be reached to maintain weight loss. The ability to recognize the difference between want and need. And making the right choices - the ones that will best fuel my body. There is no taking a vacation from being good to yourself.
I'm not saying become a food NAZI. Just strive to do better. Perfection is overrated. That's my theory, anyway. Who needs the ulcer?
I had a wonderful time in the States. My brother didn't recognize me, which was a total hoot. He came into the family reunion, sat down with his family, and after 20 minutes he turned to his wife and said "Where's Cindy?" She pointed at me at the other end of the table and said "She's right there." My brother was quite embarrassed and I'm sure this will be the stuff of family legend for years to come.
It was a relaxing time. Shopping, catching up with old friends and family. That sort of thing. I bought a size-16 pair of jeans at Old Navy - that's the smallest yet. I took an 18 and 20 into the fitting room, came back out and told Erich "They're both too big." I can't keep up sometimes.
The three of us went to the county fair one day and I rode the 'big' rides they had. It was quite a shock because I haven't been on anything like that for a good 15-20 years. But I wanted to do it because I could fit on them. I ventured onto the last one by myself, even.
At the end of the week, we drove to Niagara Falls, New York for a Bo show at the Seneca Falls Casino. What an amazing show! It was Ericha's first time seeing him and man, it was a good one. She really enjoyed herself. We met with him afterwards and she said to me later "I couldn't talk to him. I felt like I was gonna cry for some reason." I just smiled, nodded and said "Welcome to our world." She had fun hanging with all my Bo friends, too. It was good to share that with her. Bo was his sweet self, telling me I "looked beautiful" and "very healthy." Erich forgot his Bo Bice ballcap at home and jokingly apologized to Bo (who had already complimented his CSI cap...LOL). Bo just grinned and said it was ok, he'd see him again. And he will! LOL! I told him Ericha was my daughter and he said "This is your daughter?" then complimented her pink hair. Actually, everywhere we went all week, she got stopped and complimented on her hair. I love it myself and am thinking of some pink highlights or something. Heh.
After sending Ericha back across the border to her mom, Erich and I headed over to Rochester and the Paris Hilton (NY Division). The next day we traveled to Watkins Glen, NY for yet another Bo concert at a NASCAR event. I'm sure Bo was like a giddy little boy for this venue as he is a huge NASCAR fan. Me, not so much. LOL! Lots of walking for that one, plus standing for the entire show; it would've done me in before. No meet and greet afterwards but I did get a wink and a smile as he went onstage. It was a good weekend with wonderful friends and great music.
Despite being a bit of a food brat over the past week, I managed to lose three pounds. So I'm at 214 - 230 lbs. lost, 20 more to go. It's going too slowly. I'm getting set to work my ass off for these last 20 pounds.
Some pics from my summer vacation - the first one there is me with my mother. As always, click to enlarge.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)