So, because I have a new camera I am trying to get intimate with, my boyfriend or friends will ask to play with it (which I don't mind) but it's inevitable that someone will snap a picture of me. It is evident that I haven't seen a picture taken of me within the past six months. I knew I gained weight over the past two years but I had no idea how much until I looked over the pictures of this past weekend. I stared at a photo Andrew took of me in awe. No way. I know I'm chubby but I'm not double-chinned-fat-roles-coming-over-the-side-of-my-watch fat. I look like a latina Paula Dean. Jabba the Hut in female human form. I. Am. Distraught. Where did that tiny sexy well-fit girl go? I've drowned her in coffee cocoa fudge ice cream, presumably.
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| Let's not have this happen, okay? |
Andrew has been working out, eating well, quit drinking, and quit smoking. I can tell a difference with his body and it's only been a week or two. Me? I can't stop thinking of the beautiful relationship I've created with my cookies in the past year. I can give up all the other sweets but it, genuinely, bums me out to think I have to limit cookies out of my life. I know, I know, it's a fat kids post. A first world problem. It doesn't help that my profile picture is my utter exhilaration at digging my spoon into the 5 lb fried ice cream.
This is where the inspiration of my blog name came in. I need to annihilate the ruling creature inside of me that wants three chocolate dipped elephant ears every time I walk into Publix. It's time to do better for myself. I want this blog to be a reflection of my good progress. I think it's important for humans to continuously want to better themselves. Once you stop, you stop caring and it's a downward slope of negative aspects entering your life. I've dealt with it first hand. So I want to annihilate the elephant ear earl. No, I'm not a noble Englishman from the 17th century but I thought it sounded nice with the rest of it and it represented an in-charge figure in me that I would like to rebel from. Let's put the health freak at the wheel for a change please.
For those who don't know what elephant ears are, they look like this:
I know that once presented with the facts of what I must do, in order to improve my health, I resist it all. It's similar to quitting smoking. Once, I know I can't have something, that's ALL I want! Logically, I know it's terrible for my health. I could be diagnosed with a variety of cancers. Unfortunately, it's all I can think about when I know I can't have it. You're going to deny me the satisfaction of biting into a chewy gooey chocolate chip cookie?! Of sucking in that harmonious smooth soothing puff of nicotine? HOW DARE YOU, SIR! I'LL TAKE ALL THE COOKIES AND CIGARETTES YOU HAVE!
So I must put a stop to it, in order to lose weight. It's ultimately that I "shouldn't" have these things rather than "can't" have these things. Good bye sweets! Hasta luego Starbucks caramel frappucinos! So long dark chocolate Lacey cookies! C'est la vie tiramisu! Good bye! I will reconcile with you soon! For now, I must get fit. I must shake my'thang. No sweets for a month. Let's see how this goes.
I think it comes down to self-control. Of which, I have none. It's all with in moderation (for the sweets- not the cancer sticks). I know. I need to watch what I eat a little more. I need to start working on exercising more. I have biked three times this week, and every time has turned me into a rage monster. I get this overwhelming urge to "SMASH". I don't know why. I think it's perhaps I get so frustrated with my body. It used to be able to do 50 push ups and 75 sit ups with out taking a break. I used to be able to run for ten minutes with out running out of breath. Now, I can barely walk up my driveway with out completely huffing and puffing and needing to sit down to catch my breath. It's gotten sad. But I want to exercise more. That is the start of something good. I love the ride but hate that my bum feels bruised. It's like balancing a balloon on a the top of a water bottle. It isn't the most comfortable feeling. I love the fact that I can go as fast as a dragonfly soaring next to me but I hate that my thighs ache as if liquid fire were being poured in and between the muscle fibers. I don't remember working out being so strenuous. I do remember it getting easier and easier. I do remember WANTING to go every day. I do remember the feeling of achievement when I need to buy new pants because the old ones were falling off my bum. I know I can get there again. I once was tough. I felt like I could protect myself and I felt good practicing it. Maybe I should get into martial arts again...
Unfortunately, I won't be doing it today. For today I have Biology class. Lecture and lab. The last science course I will ever take in my life time. I hope. Tonight's lecture is included in the four classes I have left of the summer semester. I hate every second of it. Maybe I would have loved it more but because college is based on test results and not genuine interest in the subject, I hate it. It also takes up six consecutive hours of my Tuesdays and Thursdays. My professor's tests stress me out. This is a science class for non-science majors but she wants us to love it as much as she does. It shows through her tests. They are very detailed and very intricate. Then again, maybe she is giving us GA Tech tests as she teaches there, as well. Who knows. Who cares. I just want a B or higher. Need to keep that GPA rising!
Maybe, one day soon, I will learn not to write so much. It's like when you first introduce yourself to a new date. All this information about your lives comes out of your mouth on the first date. You think you have loads to talk about! You hit it off! Then, you realize on the second date it was the two of you just sharing your lives up the that point. Now, you both have nothing to talk about but the weather. I guess what I'm getting at is that I feel the need to explain every detail because this represents me. Unfortunately, it takes forever and most people will lose interest. I'm the same way. "Wow, this article looks long. I'll just read the picture captions."
Fair thee well!
 |
| Imagine three of these but with more chocolate. Like, WAY more chocolate. Every week. Upon more cookies and ice cream. Yeah. |
I know that once presented with the facts of what I must do, in order to improve my health, I resist it all. It's similar to quitting smoking. Once, I know I can't have something, that's ALL I want! Logically, I know it's terrible for my health. I could be diagnosed with a variety of cancers. Unfortunately, it's all I can think about when I know I can't have it. You're going to deny me the satisfaction of biting into a chewy gooey chocolate chip cookie?! Of sucking in that harmonious smooth soothing puff of nicotine? HOW DARE YOU, SIR! I'LL TAKE ALL THE COOKIES AND CIGARETTES YOU HAVE!
 |
| My food frienemy, the cigarette russes. Cookies shaped like cigarettes. *DROOL* |
I think it comes down to self-control. Of which, I have none. It's all with in moderation (for the sweets- not the cancer sticks). I know. I need to watch what I eat a little more. I need to start working on exercising more. I have biked three times this week, and every time has turned me into a rage monster. I get this overwhelming urge to "SMASH". I don't know why. I think it's perhaps I get so frustrated with my body. It used to be able to do 50 push ups and 75 sit ups with out taking a break. I used to be able to run for ten minutes with out running out of breath. Now, I can barely walk up my driveway with out completely huffing and puffing and needing to sit down to catch my breath. It's gotten sad. But I want to exercise more. That is the start of something good. I love the ride but hate that my bum feels bruised. It's like balancing a balloon on a the top of a water bottle. It isn't the most comfortable feeling. I love the fact that I can go as fast as a dragonfly soaring next to me but I hate that my thighs ache as if liquid fire were being poured in and between the muscle fibers. I don't remember working out being so strenuous. I do remember it getting easier and easier. I do remember WANTING to go every day. I do remember the feeling of achievement when I need to buy new pants because the old ones were falling off my bum. I know I can get there again. I once was tough. I felt like I could protect myself and I felt good practicing it. Maybe I should get into martial arts again...
Unfortunately, I won't be doing it today. For today I have Biology class. Lecture and lab. The last science course I will ever take in my life time. I hope. Tonight's lecture is included in the four classes I have left of the summer semester. I hate every second of it. Maybe I would have loved it more but because college is based on test results and not genuine interest in the subject, I hate it. It also takes up six consecutive hours of my Tuesdays and Thursdays. My professor's tests stress me out. This is a science class for non-science majors but she wants us to love it as much as she does. It shows through her tests. They are very detailed and very intricate. Then again, maybe she is giving us GA Tech tests as she teaches there, as well. Who knows. Who cares. I just want a B or higher. Need to keep that GPA rising!
 |
| Nothing has been more accurate. |
Maybe, one day soon, I will learn not to write so much. It's like when you first introduce yourself to a new date. All this information about your lives comes out of your mouth on the first date. You think you have loads to talk about! You hit it off! Then, you realize on the second date it was the two of you just sharing your lives up the that point. Now, you both have nothing to talk about but the weather. I guess what I'm getting at is that I feel the need to explain every detail because this represents me. Unfortunately, it takes forever and most people will lose interest. I'm the same way. "Wow, this article looks long. I'll just read the picture captions."
Fair thee well!
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