Tag Archives: nonscale victory

I’ll Take The Biggest One You Have…

The saga of the pants continues.  If this keeps up, I’m going to have a whole dagnabbed pants soap opera to pitch to the networks.  As The Pantyhose Turn… Days of Our Pants… General Pants-pital… all destined to be major hits, don’t talk back to me!  Since I haven’t liked really any of the pants I’ve tried on in stores around town (they all fit… it’s just I am super self-conscious about the bane of my existence… no need to focus more attention on that sucker), I decided to go the online route.  Old Navy was my first stop and I got this huge-mongous box full of pants in the mail last week.

I have a history with clothing and sizes.  For several years I’d just have to order the largest size they had (in the extended sizes… which is one up from the plus sizes which is one up from the misses sizes which is one up from the people who wear sizes 0 through 3 which is one up from the invisible people section).  I just ordered the biggest size they had without thinking and without measuring and then crossed my fingers that it would fit.  Sometimes it would… a lot of times it wouldn’t, which is a horrible feeling when you can’t fit into the biggest size the catalog offers in the extended sizes!!  Not that many stores even offer extended sizes anyway, so I always had to purchase from specialty stores who specialized in making tents on the side.

Shopping Old Navy online a few weeks ago, I went right back to my tried and true, buy the biggest size they have in the pants section… truly not optimistic that I’d even be able to pull them up past my knees.

That just goes to show me how skewed my perception of myself is… and how I’m still stuck in the land of 530-poundville.  The pants, all of them, were too big… all of them were the regular jeans/nonstretchy pants that I’d never ever  been able to wear in the past, but I still couldn’t fathom that I’d be able to wear them… even 230+ pounds later.

I don’t know if a change in the way I see myself will gradually come as I get smaller… and I hope that it does… but at this juncture I still can’t see the changes in my body when I look in the mirror.  I think I’m a special case in that I had so much to lose that a lot of my bulk is hanging skin (TMI ALERT… oops warned you too late, didn’t I?) and so there is no real way to see any body shape under all that hanging flabness… which is frustrating on one hand… but on the other hand, I just need focus on the fact that I am lighter than I used to be.  I finally went and did my measurements for the first time in a year… there were inch to inches lost in pretty much every area… most notably the 5 inches off of both my waist and the bane of my existence… it’s shrinking… slower than a turtle at a Tar Convention… but shrinking nonetheless.  Sit down, shut up, and be patient…  Meanwhile, guess I have to return these pants and think about ordering smaller.  Brain space… work with me here!

Question of the Day:  What is your dream pants size?  The size you’d be happy at?  

Happy weekend, friends!  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do… in prison!  😛

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Jean-Tastic…

It turns out I’m still wearing the exact same pants I did nearly 240 pounds ago… EXACT same.  No joking around.  I have about 8 bajillion pairs of the same exact black, stretchy, elastic waist pants.  Dead serious.  They’re the same size I wore when I weighed 530 pounds.  Part of it has to do with the fact that they come with built-in elastic… there’s a LOT of give in elastic… you can wear them at pretty much any size and save moola in the process.  The other part of it is I have this really annoying bane of my existence apron extension that seems to require mucho camoflaugization… and if I wear a tighter pair of pants, I might as well just tape a fluorescent pink sign on my bane that says… LOOK AT ME… I”M GROTESQUE AND ANNOYING… and I GET JIGGY WIT IT WHEN SHE MOVES.  That was totally a disgusting description, but it’s the truth… and now I’m going to have 8 bajillion blog readers discretely trying to check out my stretchy pants/bane next time they see me in public.  Look away from the apron… I ain’t afraid to call the bane police!

Now it’s just getting ridonculous.  I have a hard time keeping the suckers up even with the built-in elastic and I usually end up pulling them up to my neck region just to give them enough time to inch their way down throughout the day.  Thankfully, they’ve never inched all the way down to my ankles in public.  I usually have a good grasp on how to pull the suckers up when they hit mid bane.  I’ve even resorted to safety pins and wearing tight undershirts just to give them something to hold themselves up with.  I think it’s time I find me a new pair of elastic-waisted black pant uniforms.  Durrrr… you think?

Last week I tried on a bunch of pants at the store… my least, least, LEAST favorite thing in this entire universe to do… LEAST… 2nd would be kidney stones… and 3rd would be getting beat up by Bieber Fever.  Of course, all the ones I tried were elastic waist and stretchy… but just for kicks and giggles, I also threw in a pair of jeans just to see how far up my thighs I could get the suckers.

I’m trying to remember the last time I wore jeans.  Jeans with an elastic band waist do NOT count… I’m talking jeans with no elastic whatsoever in any form on any orifice.  Just plain jeans.  I’m still thinking on how long it’s been… wait for it… I couldn’t tell you it’s been that long.  It had to have at least been 14 or 15?  Maybe?  I sat in the dressing room with a big ole silly grin on my face after I pulled on those nonelastic waist pants, buttoned, and zipped with no problem at all.  Of course, there was no way in Richard Simmons’ fanny pack I would have ever worn them in public… we’re talking about jumbo muffin top AND flashing neon arrows pointing to my bane.  Just the fact that they fit me was good enough for me.  Last year I tried on a pair just for fun and I couldn’t even get them on… even if weight isn’t being lost as fast… inches are coming off in some places… and that lights a fire under the rear for me to want to keep on moving forward… as if I had a choice anyway!

Question of the Day:  Do you have a favorite pair of jeans?  What brand is your favorite? 

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Plateau Scaling, NSVs, and Hookers…

Put the phone down, Ma… I ain’t becoming a hooker… but boy was that an attention grabber or what!?!?  I know how to bring in the crowds.  From now on out you all might want to just take a nap… WARNING:  Major nonsensical babbling ahead… watch out for mind numbing boredom and the urge to turn off your computer!  Commence! 

I talked about a weight gain I had of 3 pounds about 3 weeks ago.  Since then I’ve been recycling those same 3 pounds week in and week out during plateau number 4 billion 85 million 620 thousand 2 hundred and 22 (that’s the way they wrote the numbers back in the olden days when my folks were born… KIDDING!!!  Put the phone down again, Ma!)  I’m learning to just ignore a plateau and press on… put my shoulder to the wheel and push along… because like I’ve said 8 billion times before… this is a lifestyle… NOT a “die”t!  Counting calories, moving, eating chocolate, punching Gunther in the gut, eating more chocolate, and did I mention watching the Food Network 5 hours a day?  Mmmmmm… food….   Meanwhile… how would I go about just moving into Rachael Ray’s refrigerator… because seriously… girl pulls out all sorts of food from that thing… I’ll trade her for my moldy bag of lettuce and Energizer battery.  Meal idea… Energizer salad… a salad that keeps going and going and going! 

I’m happy to say that as of yesterday the plateau has been scaled (take that and smoke it, Reginald!)… took 3 weeks of pushing along, but when I stepped on the scale yesterday morning, I’d lost the 3 pounds I’d gained 3 weeks prior PLUS another 2.6 pounds… almost 6 pounds.  What did I tell you… sit down, shut up, and keep on walking… the plateau will eventually right itself if you are watching calories and moving.  It’s simple math, people!  No rocket science here… just a lot of patience practicing. 

Meanwhile, in my new found world of stopping to savor all the little moments, it’s NSV (nonscale victory) time!  This weekend I met up with some long lost cousins (what up Oprah… bwahahahaha, that joke never gets old in my noggin… errrrr… I mean Jacque, Meg, and Tanner) and we lunched it up!  I picked the place and since Logan has approximately 3 restaurants that aren’t named McDonald’s, I picked the one that had just opened and I’d never been to! 

Obviously, y’all… just from the name alone I know they have pizza… and that’s about it.  So, we get there and it’s a BUFFET!  Like an all-you-can-eat buffet (dude, why didn’t they have the Biggest Loser event at this joint)… but it’s totally okay… no freaking out on my end because I’m a pro and I can handle this.  My buffet menu before would have been 20 pieces of each of the 10 different pizza flavors, a sample of each of the 8 different pastas and sauces, and one of each of the desserts… oh, and the salad bar would have been 3 sprigs of lettuce, 2 tons of ham, 3 truckloads of cheese, and enough Ranch dressing to change the name of the Sahara Desert to the Ranch Dressing Lake.  I had a plan this time… it’s a plan that has been set in advance for any surprise eating environment… load up on vegetables at the salad bar first, vinagrette dressing on the side… you can pick ONE entree from the main dishes and one dessert.  Easy peasy.  I had me a big ole veggie salad with raspberry vinagrette on the side, whole wheat penne pasta with marinara sauce, one sliver-like cheese breadstick, and half a piece of their peach/cinnamon pizza.. and BAM… I’m out of there for under 600 calories… didn’t even have to use the wheelbarrow to wheel my butt out the door this time.   

For those who live in Logan… I would totally recommend the joint.  The food was really good and for $6.99 per person for all-you-can-eat… how can you go wrong?  Get up an eating plan first, though… otherwise, the help will need to roll your rear out the door.  I’m ready to go again… who wants to join me?

Oh, I almost forgot… I have yet to talk about hookers (children 16 and under… AVERT YOUR EYES!):   

This here is the sign that I drove by on my way to school every. single. day…. 6th grade through 12th grade… and every single day I laugh to this day… because I still have the sense of humor of a 13-year-old girl (please… like I’m the only one).  Who knew the hookers here in the Valley were so friendly?  I’m just saying I could hook y’all up!

Question of the Day:  What’s your plan when you go out to eat or to a potluck? 

 

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Filed under Calorizing, Nonscale Victories, Restaurants