This Blows Slightly Less, '09.

I'm barely alive.

To start with, I must admit, the diet (The Great Atkins Fiasco of 2009- the Holy $hit I'm Getting Married In Less Than Three Months And I Have So Many Chins It Looks Like I Have No Chins Edition) has gotten slightly easier since the first day. On day 1, I didn't even focus on my surroundings. I couldn't tell you anything I did on Friday, and it was only three days ago. I sat at my chair at work, staring into space, trying not to weep. I think I drove home, I'm not sure. I know I ate eggs. I lost count at 4. I just remember that I felt so cold. So cold. So I went home, yelled at FH about whatever I could think of, and went to bed, rocking myself to sleep with thoughts of zeppoles and crackers. Yes, I love Ritz crackers. Are you going to tell me you don't think they're awesome?? Then I don't know who you are.

I woke up Saturday morning. I lay there staring at the ceiling, which is white, and immediately wanted white bread. Now, I never eat white bread, but I remember I used to as a kid, and I would cut the crusts off, sprinkle sugar and cinnamon on it, and then mush it up into a ball, sort of like a ghetto muchkin. As I look back on that, I think, how gross...I bet I didn't wash my hands before I did that.

But I digress....I finally coaxed myself into getting out of bed, because a phoenix had risen from the ashes of my mind, and I decided what I needed to do to get through the day.

Buffalo Wings.

According to the Atkins books (of which I have 4), chicken with the skin on it is fine. Frying is okay, too, but of course not preferable. However, I was fighting for my life, people, and sometimes, you have to do what you have to do. It was either fried wings, or a burrito, and once I would have had the burrito, forget about it. It would have been all over.

So FH and I went to our local wing place, and I brought my own Blue Cheese dressing, because I KNOW it has no carbs.

You know how the Eskimos have hundreds of words for 'snow'? I wonder how many words there are for 'complete loser', because I was absolutely the biggest loser at this bar full of drunks at 11:30 am.

I ate 16 wings, and might as well have drank the blue cheese dressing.

I only know because I counted the bones later. I don't really even remember the eating part- it was all just a blur of chicken meat, napkin, blue cheese, FH staring at me in complete horror, and hot sauce. Almost like sex, but just add the chicken meat (or not- I don't know what you're into).

Afterwards, FH helped me up and dragged me to the car. I couldn't breathe. The last thing I remember was asking FH if we should order a third round of wings so we could bring some home and have them as a backup, in case of a hunger flare. He slapped me in disgust and deposited me in the trunk for our ride home. I'd press charges, but frankly, I don't really even remember if that last part happened. After the second round of wings, I think I blacked out.

Again, I can barely remember what I ate on Saturday night. I'm guessing eggs. Or wait- did I have a salad?? I might have. A pork salad, or something like it. I'm not even kidding- my apartment is all sausage, all the time. It's a sausage frenzy up in this piece. But I've totally made the move to Turkey sausage, so I think I'll live.

I hope so.

Last but not least, I had to go to a christening yesterday. I'm standing in a room fulled with heroes (they had some ungodly turkey/stuffing/cranberry hero- I wanted it more than I want world peace), breaded chicken cutlets (heaven!!), potato and pasta salad, cake, chocolate, etc. I was so hungry, I almost ate the baby. Instead, I grabbed an Italian hero, and took the bread off. I held it to my nose and breathed in it's awesomeness, and then threw it away. Then I took the insides in my hands and ate the hero meat/cheese. I was so proud of myself until I turn around and FH says...

You know, they have knives and forks here.

Mortified!!!!

STATUS REPORT:::

From Friday morning until this morning, I have lost 11 pounds. Yes, you read right, 11 pounds. Now, before you go congratulating me for being so awesome a dieter, there are a few things you should be aware of:

1. A good 6 of those pounds is 'tank-up runoff'. By that, I mean, when you go on a multi-day (week) bender, those first few pounds fly off. The water weight, I guess.

2. Scale Reading Differential: This is the variance on my morning weight. I have a digital scale. I try to put it in the same place every day. But I weigh myself about 10 times, each time hoping for a better reading. So what I do is ever-so-slightly move my scale. For some reason, that changes the reading. And it's all over the place. The worst reading thus far was a 6 pound differential one day- just say I weighed myself the first time, and I was 100 lbs (example not to scale). The 4th or 5th time I weigh myself, I'm 106 lbs. But that day, I weighed myself about 36 times, and I was all over the apartment with the scale. So who knows.

So when you factor in the Scale Reading Differential, I could have lost 5 lbs. Combine that with the 'tank-up runoff', and in all likelihood, I could have gained about 4 pounds!!! F.

3. Also, everything's relative. So for me to lose 11 lbs, it's nothing compared to a thin person losing 11 pounds. I could sweat for 15 minutes and lose 4 lbs, so that has to be taken into consideration as well.

So now I've totally pissed myself off, and it looks like I've gained 26 pounds instead of losing 11.

I hope you girls are doing better. How is it going??