I know everyone has been sitting on the edge of their seats, but I have a some modifications and updates to make on my top 10 hottest women list. New additions to the list, Anne Hathaway and Claire Danes. Out are Aisha Tyler, sorry but I haven't seen you in years and Autumn Reeser, the OC is done and in the last few episodes I lost my interest for her.
More to come
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Saturday, February 3, 2007
20 Down
Well I reached the twenty pound loss mark today, a milestone of sorts. Twenty pounds, that does sound like and feel like a lot. My wife equates it in terms of sticks of butter. I just think our youngest pup, Marley weighs 30 pounds so I've almost lost the equivalent of a Marley. I finally felt what restriction feels like. First it came in the form of some string cheese that I had, but that was nothing compared to "The Great Tuna Fish Incident of 07." So it was a few days ago and I was supposedly ready to wien myself off liquid and pureed food, and my wife stepped me up to the tuna fish table. Packed in my little lunch bag that I bring to work everyday was a couple of tiny cups of tuna fish salad. So I dug in, thinking these little spoonfulls of mere tuna fish would be no problem. Think again. I shoveled (which seems like a funny word to use considering I'm literally using plastic baby spoons) about five little spoonfuls worth of tuna fish and there was a brief pause. Following the pause was a feeling, a feeling unlike anything I've felt before. There was a lump of tuna fish sitting somewhere in my sternum. It refused to go down, and like having clogged pipes, my pipe was full and nothing was moving. After struggling with this very uncomfortable feeling for about ten minutes I decided to excuse myself to the restroom, as I needed to escalate the situation and possibly get rid of the clog so to speak.
I've never been a drinker, so I'm not the least bit comfortable with vomitting. I guess that's not to say that all drinkers are expert vomitters, but I just think of my college buddies who could all throw 'em back, and were certainly accustomed to the concept of throwing up the next day. So, despite my inexprience and lack of comfort with vomitting, I felt like that was my only choice. There I was, on my knees leaning over the porcelan bowl waiting for something to happen. Well it didn't happen on its own. So, I went the route that all good bulimics go, and I inserted a finger in my mouth to stimulate the necessary reflex. All I got was a dry heave. So I washed up, figured that was it and went back to my office. Five minutes later I was back in the bathroom, and again nothing but dry heaves were to be my fate. Eventually the feeling passed and I was back to normal, but the feeling was still fresh on the mind. It would serve as enough of a wake up call to implant a memory that would stop me from repeting such an episode. Or so I thought.
Last night my parents came over for some Friday night hand and foot and they brought with them some delectables from Pick Up Stix. I had a small amount, ate slowly, chewed like crazy and without incident. But when they left, the devilish side of me that loves leftovers and loves to do his eating in private, went straight for the Pick Up Stix to prepare a small leftover plate. However, in my haste to dive right in, I had too much too fast and boom. The feeling was back and I sat there for about fifteen minutes in agony again.
They say the surgery doesn't change your head, and its true. I still have a lot to learn.
I've never been a drinker, so I'm not the least bit comfortable with vomitting. I guess that's not to say that all drinkers are expert vomitters, but I just think of my college buddies who could all throw 'em back, and were certainly accustomed to the concept of throwing up the next day. So, despite my inexprience and lack of comfort with vomitting, I felt like that was my only choice. There I was, on my knees leaning over the porcelan bowl waiting for something to happen. Well it didn't happen on its own. So, I went the route that all good bulimics go, and I inserted a finger in my mouth to stimulate the necessary reflex. All I got was a dry heave. So I washed up, figured that was it and went back to my office. Five minutes later I was back in the bathroom, and again nothing but dry heaves were to be my fate. Eventually the feeling passed and I was back to normal, but the feeling was still fresh on the mind. It would serve as enough of a wake up call to implant a memory that would stop me from repeting such an episode. Or so I thought.
Last night my parents came over for some Friday night hand and foot and they brought with them some delectables from Pick Up Stix. I had a small amount, ate slowly, chewed like crazy and without incident. But when they left, the devilish side of me that loves leftovers and loves to do his eating in private, went straight for the Pick Up Stix to prepare a small leftover plate. However, in my haste to dive right in, I had too much too fast and boom. The feeling was back and I sat there for about fifteen minutes in agony again.
They say the surgery doesn't change your head, and its true. I still have a lot to learn.
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