Monthly Archives: August 2009

The gods of bad ideas

Somewhere out there the gods of bad ideas are laughing their a**es off.
What was I thinking? I can’t look at a stick of butter without gaining a pants size, and lord knows, adding whole cream to the equation only ends in a complete and total…well, you know.
So this has been the week of amazing food. Amazing food I made, which is really, really a huge joke on me, because who knew?! Certainly not poor BL, lovingly known as BLT because even my significant others have food nicknames, who in 15 years of marriage never knew I could cook more than taco salad, lasagna and hot sauce.
I mean seriously. Our funniest “before we were married back in the days of wooing (is wooing a word? Is it woo-ing?) center around some major screwups in the kitchen starring me, some fire and a scorched rug. I know that sounds like some sort of sexy euphemistic romance, but it wasn’t. I almost had to call the fire department. I ruined the rug in my apartment AND I caught my newly manicured nails on fire.
Over the years I’ve subjected my family to lots of bad food. You think paper tastes bad? You ought to have been at the table for some of my Weight Watchers creations.
So now that the good old Betty Crocker cookbook is out and in the open and I’ve made this great week of food, so much so that BLT and I are practically waddling everywhere we walk, I realize…this can’t go on. I already have 10 sizes of clothes in my closet, I can’t have 12.
But, but, but, I LIKE cooking. I especially like baking bread. I’m making homemade rolls for supper tonight. But this new relationship I have with my kitchen has to end. It can’t go on. It’s bad for me. I’m going back to work. Waddling up the stairs to my classroom isn’t my idea of a good time. What have I done?!?!

Two days

and I think my idea has already bombed. The food was amazing, but I’ve gained a million pounds.
I guess that’s what happens with homemade bread and butter, baked ziti and chocolate mousse.

No More Diets For Me

Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.

I don’t know how long that phrase has been in my head. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been on a diet. I remember waking up at 5:30 in the morning so I could do aerobics with some lady on TV when I was 12. I remember the 2 fats, 5 breads, unlimited veggies…diet when I was in elementary school.
I shopped in the “pretty plus” section because some moron thought calling the fat kid section pretty plus would make us feel better.
I’ve spent thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, on exercise videos DVDs, gym memberships, exercise clothes, Slim Fast, Weight Watchers, weights, balls…the list goes on and on.
I’ve been successful. I’ve lost more weight than I could ever keep track of, and I’ve gained every bit of it plus more back.
This weekend I saw Julie and Julia and I laughed because it made me want to cook, and I hate cooking. But then I remembered back to when I was a kid and my mom’s Betty Crocker cookbook was the best kept secret in the house. I made chiffon pies and french toast and meat packets and all sorts of yummy stuff. I loved cooking and baking back then. When I moved out and moved into the world of diets and diet food, that changed. It’s not that I don’t like cooking, it’s that I really don’t like eating what I cook. It leaves me unfulfilled.
I decided to try something different.
I’m going to cook.
I’m going to use cream and butter and sugar and cheese and whatever else the recipe calls for. I’m going to have fun trying out new recipes.
And I’m going to eat…3 times a day with a couple healthy snacks thrown in.
And I’m going to exercise. I’ll walk or use the total gym when I get it set up. I’ll shoot for an hour a day but I’ll work up to that slowly.
I’m not going to buy diet foods, eat frozen dinners, stop by the drive-thru.
Will it work? I have no idea. If I go up a size, I’ll re-evaluate and work at cutting calories.
I’m throwing every bit of weight loss advice I’ve heard out the window.
We’ll see what happens.