on the cruise ship lollipop

okay, so listen to this. julie and i are going on a CRUISE. she's the ship's comedian and she can bring someone and nikola, julie's wife, can't go and so i'm going. sucks for them but it's great for me. and julie will have fun because when julie and i hang out we pretty much laugh until we reach urination.

okay, so we're going on olivia cruise lines. yes, we're going on a big, fat, lesbo cruise filled with women who, from afar, look like andrew dice clay. can't wait. julie does a few shows and then has to yell out "G 24" at bingo and then the rest of the time we can hang out. julie hates to be still so i'll probably be lying out by myself a lot of the time while julie does other things like watch tv in the cabin and surfs the world wide web, i don't know. all i know is that julie doesn't like the sun either. she sounds like a real hoot, huh? no, stop it, she's fine. stop it. i said stop.

so my mom warned me that cruises are infamous for the all day long food shoved down your throat. so, i'm planning on using their gym every single day. that's 7 days. and i'm planning on being smart and eating a lot of fruit and salad and shit like that. after all, it's gonna be hot out there in the caribbean.

i was also thinking of burning a few extra calories monopolizing on my being the only woman on the ship attracted to men by hanging out with the crew members, but my mom also warned me that these guys basically boink women at every port while all the cruise passengers are walking around in their cackies and sensible shoes paying women negative 25 cents to put braids in their hair.

use protection, she said. but i don't think i'll be needing any as i'm pretty turned off by the whole idea.

so there goes that dream i had.

i went to macy's and bought a....TANKINI! whoop whoop. the dressing room situation in the swimwear section is a crime. the lighting is bright and stark and hideous and it really makes it hard to enjoy your reflection in the mirror. but i did my best squint and went with what felt the most comfortable. so i'm all suited up and i'm planning on walking around in my tankini not giving a flying fuck what the lesbians think of me.

it's actually good that it's a lesbo cruise because, let's face it, they are way more forgiving of women's bodies and their many shapes and sizes. shout out to my girls.

by the way-- i'd also like to give a shout out to the pre-republican, all grown up shirley temple. she was always a chubby little kid and grew to be a zaftig teenager. big ups to you and your fat cheeks and your dimples, shirley.

i'm just gonna say it-- i'm seriously thinking about weight watchers. i'd love to hear people's ideas on this subject. i hate the idea of it but it seems to work for people. i'm not doing a bang up job here on my own. i need some help.

do you think chaz has continued to lose weight even after the cameras have turned off? hope so. but, chaz, no presh. you know you're my homie.

whole grains and chazzy,
rach

when the moon hits your eye...

like a big pizza pie? or piece of pie? i'm never sure. either way, i'm sure that my face is the moon being referred to here. everytime i catch a glimpse i am actually surprised by its roundness and its size. and, as a narcissist, i am catching many a glimpse of my face.

at the moment i'm watching shakira shake shake what her mama gave her. holy hips. if you wanna know what belly i want, it's her's. not skinny. curvy. a woman. if MTV actually played videos i'd say go watch and wait for shakira to show up. i'm actually blown away by her belly. google it.

okay, face, stomach. what's next? let's discuss the ass. this is the only part of my body that i would like to make bigger. i'm telling you, folks, if i had a boomin' booty i would be shaking that thing all over town. i'd wear mini skirts and hope for the wind to blow it up. i would stick a hat in the back pocket of my tight jeans to call attention to my perfect apple bottom.

it would be so great to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and instead of my surprise belonging to my moon face, it would belong to my pride. i promise myself right now that that will happen. chubby pinky swear.

i think i'm gonna check out a nutritionist. get on track with knowledge, awareness, schedule. three very important things to have if you wanna lose weight. and feel grrreat.

tonight jen sat in the kitchen to keep me company while i cleaned. we listened to air supply's greatest hits and jen checked out my new book "guide to getting it on" recommended by my gyno. everyone should own one apparently. she's so right. it's teriffic, i tell you. and funny. great illustrations. we laughed, we learned, we laughed, we cried.

it's always so much easier to clean when someone's just there with you. just hanging out. i think it's the same for working out, losing weight, blah blah-ing. having a bud.

julie is out of commish this month and let me tell you, it's a lot harder to motivate by myself. it's just easier when someone's taking turns with you, dragging each other's asses about town. making healthy lunches. walking the mountainous terrain in the park with the dogs.

so basically i realize that this little adventure of tankini dreams has been going on for quite a while with little to no weight loss. this needs to change, if not for me then for the sake of this blog. for the sake of some sort of narrative arch. i mean, c'mon.

next post will be about a cruise and an actual tankini. seriously. just you wait and see.

i miss chaz.

if you're out there, buddygirl, keep on keepin' on.

whole grains and chazzy,
rach

oink, oink.

so, i've noticed a bit of a pattern. or maybe it's a phenomenon. someone, please tell me what it's all about.

sometimes when i eat it makes me hungry. like, before the meal i was like, okay, it's time to eat, rachel. and then i take a bite of my sandwich and take the first spoonful of my soup and it releases some kind of seratonin or something and then i'm done and i want more. more, i tell you, more.

so i'm sitting in this new cafe and basically i've been trying to write but i've spent some of that writing time thinking about dessert and how delish it would be with a nice chai or something.

but listen up. i sat it out. and i'm not hungry. i'm over it. i just had to chill for a sec and not be so i m p u l s i v e. i am historically a very impulsive person. (i'm putting it in the past tense to try and trick my brain into believing it's a silly thing of my youth.) i think if i keep telling myself that i'm impulsive then i give myself permission to BE impulsive. damn. that's rough.

so there it is. a lesson.

whole grains and chazzy,
rach

!viva la revolucion!

okay. i'm for real now. as you can see from CHER guevara right here i am not kidding. this is the woman who birthed my chazzy into the world and so i will use her image to birth my new found energy for the revolucion. today i had:

lunch with my mom.

therapy.

the gynecologist.

so, as you can imagine, i had much discussion about tankini dreams. the real, actual, for serious tankini dreams, the ones in my heart and soul, not the blog. after today i'm gonna try to live in a different head space.

i've been revisiting viva la resistance a lot lately. i have not been trying hard enough. i haven't really been trying at all. in fact, i've pretty much decided to self sabotage all day long. i have been feeling cheated out of eating. i have been feeling angry, to tell you the truth. i feel like stomping my feet into the pavement and crying on the curb. this sucks, to put it simply.

this weekend i went to kate's baby shower. i can't even begin to tell you the beautiful spread that we had. chicken, quiche, nachos, bread, cheese, hummos, salad, flourless chocolate cake, blondies and these gorgeous, designer, vercace-esque looking cupcakes that had full on gardens of butter and sugar icing on them. there's really nothing better than to eat great food with friends. but as good as it is, there are always these moments of torture. like sitting in a chair all the way across the room from the food spread not focusing on the conversation because i just want another bite of that cupcake from hell.


yesterday i was watching my neighbor's baby all day. i took him on a walk to visit julie at a cafe where she was sitting and writing. the only thing i'd eaten all day was handful after handful of dry cereal so i ordered a salad and a diet coke, which, by the way, is apparently horrible for you-- no duh, you're saying to yourself.

we said goodbye to julie after finishing up and walked out into the coldest day we've had in a long time. i was tired and cold, my back hurt from carrying the baby and i just didn't feel satisfied. so, i passed a new cafe on the way home and obvioulsy just had to go in to see what they had in the display case.

so, there it was, happiness and satisfaction in a square of rice crispies and marshmallows. so to keep with the cereal theme of the day i ordered it to-go and went back out into the freezing cold to walk home, with new warmth in my little heart, knowing that i had my rice crispie treat to eat when i got in the door.

well, surprise, surprise. i was satisfied and happy for the 3 minutes it took to eat it. then i just started to hate myself and still, 15 or so hours later, i'm still pretty annoyed with myself. and i'm still upset with myself for getting out of that chair at kate's to get that devil cupcake so i could focus on the conversation. it's the feelings of failure and guilt and self sabotage that stick around longer than the satisfaction of the food.

so in therapy we talked about the bread basket on the table when you go out to eat. those damn rolls. the butter. i mean, would you walk into a restaurant eating a bag of wonder bread? it's ridic. and the tortilla chips when you go out to eat mexican food... it's like eating a large bag of tostitos before the meal. can you imagine sitting down to dinner at someone's house while everybody is just sitting there with their little bag of chips? totally, utterly ridiculous. food that you don't need, just want is now called bread basket food.

if i would have just kept walking home and not stopped into the cafe i would've forgotten about the rice crispie treat a block later. these are such fleeting moments. i just have to take control over them and tell them to chill when i'm trying to reach my goal.

get your head outta the bread. that's the new mantra. no more filler. and if i hafta hafta hafta, well then there are healthy fillers. like berries. right? i just had some tonight and let me tell you-- delish.

ok, that's all i have on this for now. tune in later for talks about the CRUISE julie and i are going on...

whole grains and chazzy, and please get your head outta the bread,
rach