Day 47: The magic of flying, Photoshop and birthday BBQ’s

Weight: Clueless, but I’m guessing still in the 140 range

Body Fat %: too much of it, still

Mood: Hungover, on my period  and… possibly still drunk (my head feels like mush)

Breakfast: Oatmeal, berries, almonds, flax seeds and toast with fake butter

Muffin Top has made it safely to her home town of Toronto for the celebration of Muffer’s 26th Birthday. It took a lot of courage for someone who fears flying as badly as I do. In the past, I’ve relied heavily on over-the-counter sleeping pills in China that you’d need a prescription for everywhere else in the world (except maybe Mexico). The pills are called Zopiclone — or as Gobes prefers to call it: Dopiclone. As my travel companion for the past 2 years, Gobes has witnessed me doped out the most. He hates it when I take those pills cause he says it’ll put my life in danger should there be an emergency evacuation. I’d be too drugged out like the bride in Sixteen Candles and wouldn’t be able to distinguish my ass from my elbow. But the way I see it, if a plane is in the air and there’s trouble, there ain’t no other direction it’s going but down, and I doubt that Captain Sully would be in the cockpit to safely land all our doomed asses on a river. So I pop hard core sleeping pills. I overdose on them so that I don’t feel anxious, and can just pass out and kill time.

Flying fascinates me and scares the shit out of me. How can something so big defy gravity? I never use to be so scared of flying until I had the worst turbulence experience on an Air Transat flight when I was 15 going to Vegas with my mom. People were literally screaming and praying. You know it’s bad when people scream. That’s why every time I feel that dreaded turbulence, I look around me like a schizo to gauge the reactions of the other passengers. The ones sleeping and snoring piss me off, mainly because I’m jealous that they are not conscious for what feels like absolute torture for me.

Luckily on my flight to Toronto, I sat in row 12C, right behind two business class seats. I had a good view of the woman diagonally across from me and boy did she have a yummy looking meal. I felt like a food pervert. I was a super elite  economy class Peeping Tom, living vicariously through the chubby business class passenger who was swallowing every last morsel of lasagna and berry cheesecake on her tray. Say it with me now, “Ohhh, Precious Venus!!!” That’s the real magic of flying, getting carried away by the food…not Zopiclone.

You know what else is fucking brilliantly magical? Adobe Photoshop CS5. I have been OCD’ing on airbrushing and slimming my dreadful wedding photos. Chubby bride no more! I’ve become my own digital plastic surgeon and the Filter>Liquify tool is my scalpel. Ladies, if you’re not looking your damn best for something as important as wedding photos, there’s hope.

Muffers’ good friend threw her a birthday bash on his rooftop patio yesterday. The weather  was perfect for BBQ’ing and all her friends came out to celebrate. It was a great reunion, some people I haven’t seen for more than 5 years came out. It was magical that in the span of 30 minutes, I got pretty shit faced and continued doing so till I puked out a quart of vodka in a parking lot, alley, and on several different streets from the passenger seat of the cab that took my drunk Tim-Riggins-ass home.

I have an important meeting on June 2nd that can potentially lead to a job I want and I really need to get Muffin Top to the gym. My last semi-workout was on Sunday when Gobes and I went biking around St. Pete . Gobes was right, Toronto is not an easy place for me to stay on track. I have been eating like shit. It’s the YMCA tomorrow for me, even if I have to pay the $14 dollar per visit guest fee.


One Response to “Day 47: The magic of flying, Photoshop and birthday BBQ’s”

  1. Colette Says:

    Hi Bear, it’s sad you had to leave at all : (
    I had an amazing time that weekend.
    How did your meeting go?

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