Friday, February 25, 2011

It's that time of the year

Yes, folks, it is time.
The time of the year where I have to throw caution to the wind, adjust my calorie intake and and give the middle finger to nutrition.

What am I talking about?

Eleven months out of the year I would not set foot in a McDonald's. I get a contact heart attack just driving by the place.


I would give my firstborn for a Shamrock Shake.

Say what you will about the lack of real flavor or the fact that 16 oz of shake has almost 600 calories. I will consume nothing else in my day if I have to.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011


Every day I do everything in my power to not be like my mother.

But it seems other than looking like a younger version of her, I have also inherited her belief that being smart is all that matters and that all fat people are stupid.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

I'd probably buy it too

Not because I am a particularly big fan of apple products. But I do have a love of over-priced trendy water.

If apple made water (click to enlarge):

Monday, February 14, 2011

Mentos: The Fresh Maker

Another new start for me. My husband and I just moved from eastern Pennsylvania to the midwest. I have yet to find a job but I haven't really been looking that hard either.

Mostly because I have been reading.

I am in love with Portia de Rossi's "Unbearable Lightness". It has once again kick-started my weight loss. It has now replaced "Wasted" as my favorite anorexia autobiography, and I have read a lot of them. I dread lending my nook to any one or having my husband look at it because it is filled with books written by anorexics. It would be kind of a giveaway as to why when he is eating cookies at night before bed, I am having carrots and celery.

But I am good at excuses.

I order nonfat milk in my lattes because they "don't sit as heavy in my stomach".
I drink tea rather than coffee because "coffee makes me too jittery".
I eat fruit because I love it.
I'm not eating because I just ate/don't feel well/not in the mood/hornier when I'm hungry.

The last excuse on the list is a surefire way to get my husband not to make me over eat.