Day 20: Muffin top’s got comany…

Posted in Uncategorized on April 24, 2010 by MuffinTops

Weight: Don’t know

Body Fat %: Don’t know

Number of days since finding out that I am indeed NOT pregnant: 2

A very special visitor has arrived today – Muffin Top’s less voluptuous twin from Toronto. They are almost identical, in that both Muffin’s have piece’s of metal lodged in their centers…

Muffin Top's Twin: Muffers

…but Muffin Top’s twin has back-age top. It’s when the “love-handles” do a rollover from the posterior P.O.V. Like this:

Back-age! Muffin Topping from behind.

When Love Handles Muffin: Back-age!

For the sake of simplicity, we’ll call Muffin Top’s twin, Muffers.

Gobo and I had a very nice day in the sun prior to Muffer’s arrival at TPA. We went to the hotel pool for some tanning, reading and lunch. To avoid another “Hide-behind-the-moo-moo-all-day-long” scenario, I didn’t even bring it on today’s muffin bearing excursion. I won’t lie. If I was alone, I would not have had the courage to go moo moo-less.

Gobo by my side certainly made it more ok for me. I guess I felt like having him there would validate to others that despite my grotesque muffin, a handsome man who is physically fit does not find me appalling and is willing to go out with me in public, hand in hand. Gee, if that’s my standard for marriage material I  must be smoking crack. No, no. Gobo is the best though, and he really has been there for me, with me, on top of  me, and behind me through thick and thin.

After roasting our bodies for an hour and half and downing some poolside wraps, we decided to hit some tennis balls. I’m quite surprised at how much I actually enjoy going through the motions of trying to play tennis. It really is somewhat addictive. Muffers’ flight was due to land at 2:41 pm. We thought we timed it right, but on the way to the airport, we learned that her flight arrived 20 minutes early!

Poor Muffers. This is not the first time she has waited at the airport due to my tardiness. Gobo and I made up for it by quieting her with a light caramel frappucino from Starbucks.

Muffin Top and Muffers have had some great moments of food sharing in the past. Their most savory treat in the past was a red bean scone in Beijing. Since then, any type of scone from Starbucks hits the top of their list. But Muffin Top definitely has more of a sweet tooth than Muffers. Much like Gobo, Muffers likes to eat shit like fried chicken and random Chinese processed MSG foods from 7-11. Muffin Top could survive on ice cream and bread-like things alone.

Here’s a picture of the girls sharing some sweet potato cinnamon chips from Publix this afternoon.

Muffin Top: Hey Muffers, look what I can do with this chip!

Muffers: You ain’t got shit on me. I done ate all this fried chicken, I sure as hell can afford to eat all these chips!

Muffin Top: Damn. How am I still bigger than you?!

Muffers: Tough luck frumpy. What’s for dinner?

Gobo and I made one of our best dinners yet. I made a ratatoulie from this new Eat Clean cookbook I bought:

Tosca's Ratatoulie

While Gobes took command of the salad, the burgers, and the world’s most delicious corn from Michelle Bernstein’s cookbook..

Corn with feta, butter, lemon and Cilantro

The First Supper

Let’s just say Muffin Top and Muffers had a fucking field day today.


Day 17: Feelin’ a little nostalgic…

Posted in Uncategorized on April 21, 2010 by MuffinTops

Weight: I still don’t know!

Body Fat %: I’m sure it’s high!

Gobo has convinced me to shun the scale these past few days because my “da yi ma kuai lai le” — direct translation: my  “big auntie is coming soon”. The Chinese saying is supposed to mean a chick’s monthly period is coming. How that relates to a big auntie arriving I have no idea. Perhaps it’s because the eldest aunt in Chinese families is always known to be the bitchiest and scariest of all.

I remember that as kids, our elders would always threaten us by saying that if we were bad, they’d go and report it to, “da yi ma”, the eldest aunt. But kids grow up, and we’ve come to learn that the big scary auntie is really not the Medusa our parents made her out to be. She’s not a bitch at all, and she definitely won’t turn you into stone if you look her in the eyes. In fact, she’s super cool and probably the most fun and laid back out of all her siblings.  The Chinese sure have a way with words. Direct translations to English usually sound totally fuckockta and make no sense to those who don’t speak or understand the language.

So I am avoiding the measurer of fat in our bathroom during this period of (hopefully) inaccurate water weight gain. The ostrich presents herself again!

I had a rather uneventful day. The new cleaning lady came at ten. She just finished, 6 hours later. She did a fabulous job, but it cost us 130 big ones. That’s over 20 pops an hour if my math skills don’t fail me. Damn. Our house was filthy though. Another sign of a fat housewife: one that doesn’t like to do house chores, like clean. Poor Gobes, what the hell did he marry!

In fairness to me, I blame it on Beijing: the city of spoiled expats. When we were living there, 2 cleaning ladies cleaning for 2 hours, cost us $14 dollars US.  Full on 90 minute oil body massages only cost $30-40 bucks, and 90 minute foot massages were under 20 bucks. Oh, I miss you Beijing. Damn the minimum wage in America!

I was at the gym earlier. Did something different today. I worked on my invisible abs. I call them invisible because Muffin is still suffocating them from all fronts: rectus. obliques, love-handle-bliques, you name it. After rolling around pathetically on a floor mat, doing a variety of ab exercises I use to be able to do effortlessly, I moved into the weight room. I was relieved to see it empty. Our gym, though recently renovated, is still the size of our walk-in closet. If more than 3 people decide to use the free weights area, it starts feeling like a train ride in India during rush hour.

So I did some half-ass strength training moves, then happily jumped on the treadmill, plugged my iPod into the USB wire and watched episode 4 of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. I ran a bit, jogged a bit, walked a bit, for a total of 50 minutes.

Now my shoulders/neck hurts so I am going to stop typing and migrate to the couch, which has never looked better now that the entire house is clean. It’s all about the simple, meaningless pleasures, huh?

Peace Out!

Day 16: Ruby Tuesday

Posted in Uncategorized on April 20, 2010 by MuffinTops

Weight: I don’t know

Body Fat %: I don’t know

I have decided to scrap week three of the magazine diet; otherwise known as, “I have failed to follow it to a tee, have not lost weight, am getting very impatient, and am therefore fed up with it.” This is dangerous, because I’ll probably end up chewing off more than I can burn. This gives Muffin a license to sneak things in like parmesan cheese and other dairy products.

It’s a shame that I’ve given up on this diet. I think it’s bad timing. I am due to surf the “crimson wave” in a day or two. This means poor Gobo has already endured my spell of moodiness, bitchiness, and overall umpleasantness. If you’re reading this Gobes, mad shout out to you for being such a loving trooper and making 2 DELICIOUS  salads out of the new cookbook on back to back days!

We got our wedding photos today…well, we got to see them in an online album. I was happy with most of them, but I really couldn’t ignore how bloody fat I looked. Now I know what everyone must have been thinking when they saw me in person after seeing my skinnier pics via Facebook and our wedding website: “Whoa Bertha! Guess Gobo really is a chubby chaser!”

You only get to do it once, get married (well that’s not true, but I’m not planning on leaving Gobes in this lifetime for the sake of re-taking wedding pics). It’s just a shame that I really was far from my best. I feel like I failed at prepping for it. Maybe I am being to hard on myself. Afterall, I was struck with a measles-on-my-face thyroid disease that also caused weight gain and hair loss 3 months before the big day.

I am thankful that it was a near- perfect wedding weekend, that all of our guests from out of town got here safe and sound, and went home safe and sound. I am grateful that I am now married to the best husband a woman could ever ask for. Not even the Muffin can take that away from me.

On the subject of my weight loss plan of action now. God, it’s so boring I even dread typing the next few words. I need to keep active, busy and away from the fridge.

Sounds easy, but baby, when you’re a newlywed housewife who’s feeling anti-social, Muffin and Mr. Fridge are the easiest friends you rely on.

Day 15: Revenge of the Muffin

Posted in Uncategorized on April 19, 2010 by MuffinTops

Weight: 137.6

BF %: 27.4 %

Mood: Pissed off and so not motivated

Plan of action: Go to the gym, jump on a treadmill and escape by watching episode 4 of The Real Housewives of New Jersey.

It’s week 3 of the magazine diet. Let me just say I fucking hate chopping up bell peppers. Especially when the Shun knives that I use to chop them do a crappy ass job.

Gobo and I went to a new local restaurant yesterday. Atmosphere was probably better than the food, but overall a great experience. I had a scoop of Tahitian Vanilla Ice Cream for dessert. Yeah, I know. A big No-No. Hence, should I be that surprised when I jump on the scale to see the numbers escalate? I think not.

Quite frankly, I am so over this 3 week BS diet that has me eating more veggies than an obese rabbit. Why must I eat 2 cups of mixed bell peppers with my egg/egg whites? I am cutting down the volume this week. My afternoon snack/meal calls for 2 oz of tuna and more goddamn bell peppers. I fuckin’ hate tuna. Especially canned tuna. Reminds me of opening up a can of Whiska’s for my cat (May Christie R.I.P). The stench is naaa–sty!

So I think I just gotta get over my hypothyroid lethargic state and up the ante in the exercise department, which is boring as shit but I just love food too damn much. Spoken like a true fat ass.


Day 14: A One On One With Muffin Top

Posted in Uncategorized on April 18, 2010 by MuffinTops

Today’s Weigh In: 137 lbs

Body Fat %: 28.1

Muffin Top: What’s got you down, frumpy one?

Me: You, Muffin. I feel like I cannot succeed at anything with you dragging me down all the time.

Muffin Top: But you need me.

Me: No, I really don’t think so. You’ve made me nothing but ashamed of myself.

Muffin Top: Come on. I’m only here because you keep me here. If you really didn’t want me in your life you wouldn’t try saving me each time you decided to kill me. It’s like lowering me down a cliff for the gators only to pull me back up to safety again. Make up your damn mind!

Me: I know. It’s just so hard. I guess I have grown attached to you, Muffin. You’ve seen me through it all. You know me best. Killing you would be like killing the only witness to my life. But you’re no good for me. You’ve held me back way too long.

Muffin Top: Look sugar, I ain’t that hard to get rid of. I just don’t think you’ve really decided that you want me gone. Cause once I’m gone, who will you have left? Who’s gonna comfort you, a mean six pack that won’t let you wash down that sorrow with Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches? Damn girl. You are lonely.

Me: Yeah. Maybe I keep you around so that I can always have a mission, you know. Like you’re always my project so that I am never without purpose. I’ve killed you before, but I always bring you back to life when my life gets tough and feels out of control.

Muffin Top: True Dat.

Me: What should I do? This stupid diet ain’t doing shit. I don’t even feel like working out. I am so tired.

Muffin Top: You are asking the wrong person, girl. If it was up to me, I’d have your face buried in that left over blue wedding cake up sitting up in your freezer.

Me: No truce then, still enemies?

Muffin Top: Who you kiddin’ fool? We on the same damn team. Always have been, always will be.

Me: Then why am I always fighting you?

Muffin Top: Because you hate yourself, and until that changes, I’m not going anywhere…

Hungry and Burned: Charred Muffin Top, anyone?

Posted in Uncategorized on April 18, 2010 by MuffinTops

Weight: I don’t even want to know!

Hours in the sun: 6

I look like a raccoon. Every crevice of my face is burned red except for where I had my sunnies on. Despite my attempts to protect my sensitive Retin-A skin with a sun hat from Target and Cetaphil SPF 50 cream, I am on my way to looking like Magda. I’ve smothered lidocaine aloe vera gel on my face and yet it’s still giving off heat like a radiator during winter time.

The day at the beach was fun. We went to a motel-ish/beachy resort place called Post Card Inn. The place has a very cool retro feel to it, with old surfboards decorating the wallls, and a chandelier entangled with a fisherman’s net hanging over the ceiling.

I was the first one to get there, and since there were gonna be six of us in total, I was asked to secure 6 beach chairs by the pool. Problem was, the only 6 chairs in a row available that I saw were available had hotel towels on them. They weren’t spread nicely over the chairs or anything. The chairs looked abandoned, so I sat my ass down and waited to see if anyone would come and shoo me off.

Ten minutes later and still no sign of anybody.  I decided that the chairs would be ours. I sprawled all my shit over the chairs and guarded them like a hawk until everyone showed. The girls were thrilled that we got such a great spot. We did notice a pink scarf on the farthest chair to the right, and  didn’t dare touch that, but some of us (including me, who did not bring a towel because my ass is spoiled from towel service at the Vinoy pool) did use the towels that were on the chairs.

Thirty minutes later a woman comes over and says with the utmost restraint of bitchiness in her voice:  “Um, we were sitting here before, it’s no big deal, but we need to get our towels back.” Whoops! I felt so embarrassed as I pulled the blue and white towel from under my ass and handed it to her (I think two or three of the other girls did so too, but at least they weren’t left towel-less like me).

As the women peeled off their clothes to reveal their perfect 10 % body fat figures, I remained shielded in my white fishnet moo moo. I know I was going to make it my goal to parade around like Gisele without it, but I just couldn’t. We were all in what I call the dreaded sit down position during snack time (The birthday girl is an amazing chef and prepared some snacks for all of us to feed on. My favorite: the pulled chicken curry. Absolutely to die for on slices of cucumber).

While everyone looked so comfortable sitting in all kinds of positions, they had no rolls. But if I ridded myself of the moo moo, Muffin Top would surely crash the party big time. So the moo moo remained my armor for the entire day and I now have  messed up tan lines on my body as well as my face.

My diet went to shit for lunch, but I did try to make it healthy. I had a blackened snapper sandwich with sweet potato fries. Yum. I only at the fish, took a little nibble of the bun, and had 12-15 fries. I also had a vodka diet coke.

When I got home, Gobo was disappointed when I told him that I never took off the moo moo. So was I, but I guess I am just not ready.

Day 13: Bloated and Deflated, You Only Cheat Yourself!

Posted in Uncategorized on April 17, 2010 by MuffinTops

Weight: 136.8 lbs

Body Fat %: 28.5

So the weight loss this week has been a total joke. I started out at 137.2 on Monday, then went to 136 on Tuesday and now, Saturday morning, I am up .8 pounds.

Several factors can account for this I think.

  1. Up until 2 days ago, I had been eye-balling the amount of chicken and fish that I am supposed to be eating with each meal, namely, 4 oz of chicken at lunch and 6 oz of fish at dinner. I started second-guessing my portion estimates and bought a food scale at Publix for the great price of $9.99. When I saw how little 4 oz of chicken was on the scale it was a bit of a shock. All this time, I have been chowing down on at least 7, if not 8 oz of chicken each meal!
  2. I have been grazing like a cow in a pasture. But instead of grass, I’m snacking a bit too much on fruit and almond butter.
  3. I used a tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil to cook spinach on two occasions.
  4. I overate and fell off the diet on Tuesday during the office luncheon.
  5. We ate out last night and I had a delicious curry-like salmon dish with wee bit bites of sticky rice, and a few bites of dessert.
  6. I have not taken a poop in at least 2 or 3 days.

So in about 2 and half hours, I am going to this beach hotel called Post Card Inn to celebrate the belated birthday’s of two friends, along with a group of other women I was recently introduced to. They are all gorgeous moms who are at least 6-7 years my senior. But if we were to all stand in a bikini lineup at the police station with paper bags over our heads, and someone was asked to pick out which of us has had a few kids, you can bet your sweet ass that it would be me who gets picked.

A day of sun, bikini’s and cocktails. If I wasn’t such a fat-tard, I might be a little more excited to go. Thank god for the moo moo! I hate feeling like I need to hide my body. It’s such a dirty feeling. Like I have some kind of dirty little secret that I must protect. dammit! Damn you Muffin! I almost feel as if they’d be embarrassed to sit next to me should I remove the moo moo and flaunt my junk around like I’ve just won a boxing match, only instead of a prized belt, I have a muffin around my waist.