Should I share Now or Later...hmmmm...?

So I'm debating whither I should share my body changes since I started this "Run My Ass Off" "Break My Ass" campaign.
I wont lie...the prospect of putting out the actual numbers for the world to see (actually more like 5 people..lol) is a frighteningly anus tightening task (say that 10 times fast).

I mean...it's one thing to see my fat ass in person, where I can try to camouflage all my wobbly bits with some dark deceptive shading and flowy fabric, but it's another to actually give out mathematical numbers that you can compare to African wildlife...
But since I seem to be spewing all my other embarrassing shit in this lovely little blog of mine, why not add another smoker to the pile.

Now...don't get all disappointed...but I can't post my weight changes because my scale (which was an old relic covered in dust and hidden under the tub) is dead, and I'm too broke to buy another one (yes I broke it...because I was bouncing on it like an idiot...don't ask)
But...have no fear...I have been taking measurements at least once a month to mark my body modification progress.

I had some basic measurements from March, which I've been using as my control, and I was planning to compare them to measurements I took a week ago. My plan was to wait till the day before the wedding to post them since that was my original goal date...but I'm impatient (always have been...lol) and I'm not sure what difference a little over 2 weeks would really make.
Plus...if I'm gonna do this shit...I got to do it like the way you rip off a band-aid...fast and painless (which is a lie told by sadistic parents who are tired of wasting their time watching their kid slowly peel off the damn band-aid!...sorry...um...went a ranting there...lol)...

So while writing this dribble, I've decided to post the measurements Now and then take new ones after the wedding to post Later...
Let's see if over 2 weeks makes any sort of difference...
Here we go...

March                           July 
Hips : 47 inches             Hips: 44 inches 
Waist : 38 inches           Waist: 33 inches
Bust : 43 inches             Bust:  41 inches

Now...I'm not completely happy with the results, because I know I could have done better then this, but I have to be honest and remind myself that I didn't truly put my whole heart into the exercising/eating right thing until June, where I promptly freaked the fuck out.
I may not have reached my goal, but it helped get my large butt moving, and finally pushed me over that hurdle (more like a 30 foot wall) of not wanting to change my life.
I've already set another goal for November when I will hopefully be going to Cancun, so I don't intend to stop once the wedding is over. I'm taking this as far as I can before something happens (which it always seems to do and why my nickname is Murphy...lol)

Though I may not be entirely happy (cause I'll still be fat for the wedding) I'm constantly reminded of how much has changed with the loss of a few inches. I fit into jeans I haven't worn in over 2 years, people say (as if surprised) that I look good without me fishing for it, I can walk further, run faster, and I think I look better, but that's my own personal opinion ;-)

So that's it...
If I can get to a scale I'll see where I am in comparison to the last time I was on a scale (the night it died), then I'll post that in my after wedding blog...
As for now...I'm feeling the effects of the benadryl I took, so it's time for bed...

Peace OUT!!!

(beautiful "Pin Up Measuring Tape" photo by LaurenCollins7's Album, posted on Photobucket, and directly linked)

HOLY FUCK NUGGETS!! 17 days and Counting....

I'm freaking out...
Weddings just around the corner...
I got my bra and It Fits!(thank GOD!), so I'm all set on the dress front and I am 34/36 G (fuck...)
I'm still stressing about my makeup since it's a wedding and all, but I'll have to wing it when the time comes.
Got my hair appointment, flowers have been ordered, and the clan starts arriving in exactly 2 weeks (Yay!). But what I keep having stress palpitations about is Dancing!!

What the hell is wrong with me that with all the things I got to worry about, that's the one thing that keeps popping back into my head like an evil little gnome.
It's usually attached to some other worry like not being able to dance in my heals, the dress being too long for me to comfortably dance in, are my arms gonna be covered enough for me to feel free in my movements, will I look fat dancing on the video.
All this stupid shit is running through my head and I feel schizo cause half of me is worrying about it while the other half is asking myself why the fuck I'm worrying about such stupid crap (yes...sometimes I talk to myself...or rather curse at myself...so sue me).

I've always been embarrassed about dancing. I don't know why.
Yet not with dancing on a stage...I was always fine with that, but dancing at a party or at a club, always made me feel self conscious.
I know I'll be with mostly family, in fact more family then's ever been together at one time, but for whatever reason thinking about that doesn't help.

Ahhh FUCK IT!!!!....I can't think about this shit anymore...I got bigger things to worry about...like my last 2 weeks of exercise...lol

(Photo by riah12162008, provided by Photobucket, and directly linked)
(just thought the photo was funny and I feel like I look like him...lol)

Louis C.K. - Shameless

This is the comedy special that made me fall in love with this guy.
Found the whole thing on Youtube and put it together in one playlist.
Another look into the way my mind works and what I find funny...



(clips provided by eddshomie and YouTube)

I'm a WHAT!!!!...........

So...here's what happened.

I...as you know am going to a wedding.
The dress I'm wearing is convertible, but in order for me to have the freedom to do things with it I need a strapless bra.

Now...I've always had rather large breasts for most of my life.
They appeared when I was 9. I went from nothing, to a small B in what seemed like over night, and by the time I turned 13 I was officially a large D.
So you can guess that finding good bras were always an issue for me, let alone anything pretty or fancy like a strapless bra. But when having large boobs became culturally popular, I began to hope.

After the age of 13, my boobs continued to grow in size, just more slowly. By the time I was in my 20's I was a DD, and since my weight gain my boobs shot up as far as a DDDD. When I realized I had to find a bra that could hold up a pair of Real DDDD, I almost gave up hope.

Then my mother, through countless hours on the computer, found what is said to be the best strapless bra for the bigger breasted girls. She bought one of herself (being a D) and it was like a miracle. I still doubted that it would work for me, but she insisted we give it a try, especially since I had lost weight.
So she bought me the bra in a 34 DDDD which for this bra company is a 34 G, thinking that if it's too big, we can send it back. We got it on Tuesday and I tried it on yesterday.

It was too SMALL!!

The band was kinda tight which I expected because I'm between a 36 and a 34, but it was the cups that were too small!
I almost passed out....
Aren't breasts supposed to get smaller when you loose weight!! And there was no doubt that I had.
All you have to do is look at my face, but the scale and my pants don't lie either.

I HAD lost weight, but my BOOBS got BIGGER!
I was overflowing my cups, but I shouldn't be overflowing at all...
That means I'm an H....a small H...
Is the weight I'm loosing going to my boobs....
How is this even possible??
The bra has to be defective...
I can't except that I'm a H cup...
I get fuzzy in the head just thinking about it...
or maybe that's the lack of blood in my brain because it's all going to my BOOBS!!!!!!!
Mother Fucker!!!

(Photo by paulthorpe2008, provided by Photobucket, and directly linked)

A WTF!!! Kinda Day....

So... I had this dream this morning that the Queen of England dropped by my house to use the bathroom, or the phone, or something, and fell in love with Max (my dog) the way everyone who meets him does. So much so she asked me if it would be alright for her to take him for a walk. Of course we sent my uncle with her in case Max pulls her too hard and knocks her on her face. The last thing I want is my dog dragging the Queen of England around on her face. 

Next... I'm in a city collage dorm building and a "Predator" (as in the alien with the dreads) is trying to kill me. I tell people but no one believes me except these 2 brothers who are my friends. Well...that is until I knock the thing out a window and onto a parked car 3 floors down. Now everyone can see him, but he's still alive and a major battle ensues, where I fight on window ledges and fire escapes using a broken mop handle and eventually his pointy staff weapon to stab him multiple times and smash his head in cause he keeps coming back to life. Long story short I won, but one of the brothers gets hurt. 

So now that the battles over and I want to check on the remaining brother, but I don't want to leave the Predators body behind encase he comes back to life again. I don't want him to get away and have to find him again to kill him. So the remaining brother helps me carry the Predator body in a sheet as we make our was to the emergency hospital which happens to be in the very next building. 

The hospital turns out to be one large room like a Costco that's a mix of a Chinese meat factory, and a Best Buy. The front is full of large hanging meat and Asian guys wearing bloody aprons holding butcher knives, while in the back are rows of aisles with Cd's and DVD's.We find the brother in one of the DVD aisles, on a cot, lying next to Kurt Russell that turns out to be his father who's in a coma. 

Then all of a sudden I'm their father but as Snake Plissken and I'm apologizing for not being a good father, not being around and trying to re-connect with them by convincing them to go on the Sprint family plan with me so we can video chat.... 

So in summation I woke up thinking.... WHAT THE FUCK!!!

I think I need to take a sabbatical from my TV...lol

("WTF?!" photo by SugerG and Photobucket. Directly linked)

Boob Rant!!

Reading my friends blog about boobs got me thinking....

WTF is up with this obsession with BOOBS!

I mean...is it that most were not breast fed enough or maybe breast fed too much!

And I'm not just talking about Men. Most men are obvious boob connoisseurs, giving them names and listing attributes for all kinds of boobs (which I find hilarious), but women too are equally obsessed with them, just not for the same reasons (unless they're gay).

When you walk down the street, when you go the store, at work, in church, you can see it happening everywhere. Women judging other women's boobs. 

Men...You think your woman doesn't see that chica with the DDD's walking a half block away. 

Not only have they seen her, they've already determined whither her boobs are real, if the woman is a hoe based on her attire, boob size, hair color, type of boob (fake or real), and whither it's safe to keep walking in that direction because they might have to distract you so you don't goggle at her when you pass by.

It's Fucking Nuts!!

Granted that's not all they're judging. 

Women feel this need to judge another woman's every single flaw in order to make themselves feel better. Instead of just appreciating what they have and leaving it at that, they have to put someone else down to raise themselves up (back handed complements are one of the tricks of the trade) and its done all the freaken time...its a hidden epidemic of taught behavior among women and I'm sick of it.

Now...I love Boobs, I love women, and I'm as straight as they come. But I can admire a woman with a nice rack or a beautiful body without feeling the need to find a flaw in order to make myself feel better. Hell...I've been known to hit my man not because he was goggling at someone, but because I want him to see the amazing legs on some chick....lol 

Maybe it's because I've been judged so many times for the way I look, that I can't bring myself to judge others in the same way.

Case in point...I've had boobs since the age of 9...
That's right I said 9, and I noticed an immediate change in the attitude from both Men and Women.
Women who would smile at me, and say hi, would now ignore me and give me nasty looks, while Men on the street would say and do very nasty things. Things that made me feel dirty, scared, and like there was something wrong with me.

I was still a child for Fuck sake, but because I had boobs everything changed and somehow acting like that became appropriate somehow.

Mind you...unlike girls today I was not dressed like a little street walker, in mini skirts, high heals, and crop tops, nor did I ever ware makeup. That was just not something that would ever be allowed in my mothers house and I'm pretty sure if she ever dressed me in that manner, the rest of my family would have smacked the crap out of her, but luckily non of that happened.

But that sudden change in the way I was perceived, and the way I was treated was the reason I took to wearing dark baggy clothing for most of my teens, didn't want anything to do with sex until after I turned 19, and didn't loose my virginity until I turned 24.

Because of all that I've only just learned in my late 20's to appreciate my body and my boobs. 

I'm still modest...actually way too modest as far as my friends are concerned, but I'm ok with that. I see now the power I possess with my large rack, and I'm very careful with it because I know what they can do and what they bring out in people. Being big chested also means that just because some piece of clothing looks nice sensual and classic on a smaller boobed chick doesn't mean it's gonna look that way on me. Big boobs have a tendency to make most tops look oversexed and I avoid that look like the plague. I've also learned the trick of seeing everything around me but with certain blinders or filters so as to protect myself. 

There are a lot of fucked up people out there and even more people who look forward to judging you because of your Boobs, so though I'm not blind to it, and I'm still sensitive to it, especially in how I'm dressed, I'm not letting others opinions restrict me from wearing something flattering. 

Are men gonna stare if my girls are propped up and nicely enveloped?

Sure...that's just part of the course, and I don't get upset about it anymore (unless it's really bad like constant staring and drooling...then I get annoyed), in fact I kinda find it funny. Especially when they can't finish a sentence...lol

But when it comes to those hater bitches who want to put me down, my mantra has become , "Fuck Um!...There just Jealous", and I laugh at them. 

Laughing at people who want to put you down is a sure way to confuse and frustrate them. They don't know what to do with that...lol

And as for those fucked up perverts. 

I'm learning to replace that feeling of being victimized with a healthy dose of righteous anger and my camera phone.

"Smile for the Cops Ass Hole!"**click**....lol

(photo provided by Photobucket and directly linked)
(and here's the link to my friends blog The Bipolar Bible)

Holy Shit!!! Breaking Myself Seems to be Working!!!!!

This week was the first time I was able to do both exercise DVD's (Jillian Michaels for Beginners - Frontside / Backside) with only a day break in between.
Before when I did the DVD's I'd be incapable of doing much of anything except maybe walk, and that was if I was lucky. I'd normally need 2 to 3 days just to recover because I would be in so much pain even sitting on the damn toilet was an issue.
I mean really...have you ever worked out so hard that the muscles you use to just sit on the damn toilet don't work right anymore. I'd spend at least a day after exercising, falling onto the toilet every time I needed to pee. Not exactly fun...

These DVD's make me use muscles I didn't even know I had, that is until the next day when they're screaming, but what keeps me torturing myself is not a deep seeded masochistic tenancy, but that I'm beginning to see amazing results.
Besides the obvious stamina I've developed, I can see the changes in my body. My ass is melting away, my tummy (especially the lower portion) is disappearing, my arms are getting smaller as are my thighs (which have quite a ways to go), and my face has changed. But the biggest change is the increase in wardrobe.
Now I'm not talking about going out and buying shit (cause I hate shopping...most fat people do) but because stuff I couldn't fit into before, I can fit into again. I went from 1 pair of jeans, to 2, now I can fit (though tightly) into 4 pairs of my old jeans...That was a big hallelujah moment for me cause I don't have any money for clothes, or anything else for that matter.
Granted, these changes are not due to exercise alone. I have changed my diet and am eating healthy whenever I can, but I'm not on "a diet". I'm not eating just salad or organic non processed foods (though I am trying to incorporate more of those into my diet), but I'm using my common sense. I may want the cheeseburger, but the chicken sandwich is a better bet, or I can have a fried chicken wing or two if I make sure to have a heaping of steamed vegetable as my side. I also make sure to eat the healthy stuff first so when I get to the not so healthy stuff, my stomach is already mostly full. I guess you can say I've finally crossed over from wanting to change my life, to actually doing it (**knock on wood**)

Now the question becomes...
Will I loose enough by Auguest 20th to be happy with the way I look in the wedding photos?
Probably not...but I kinda don't care as much anymore.

I realized what I'm doing is more important for the long term then it is for any short term benefits I might get, which is why I'm trying to do this the right way. I've always wondered what my life would be like if I were skinny, but now I wonder what my life is going to be like when I'm finally (mostly) healthy. I know some of my health problems aren't just going to go away once I'm fit (like my Fibromyalgia, my Endometriosis, or being short), but being fit is going to help me get a handle on those issues and that's really all I want at this point.

Now I did the calculations and I will be PMSing for the wedding (OH JOY!!) so all this Zen shit about my weight and not really caring might go out the fucking window on that most anticipated day, but I can only worry about that when it happens, and possibly buy some strong muscle relaxers now...LOL

(Photo of Renée Zellweger as Bridget Jones by Bridget_Jones_photos courtesy of Photobucket and directly linked)