What to you get when you mix....

A baby, a Yale graduate and an ex-marine dog trainer together? My most recent dating history. Well not all of it but at least the ones I am willing to share for now.

If you are catching up from my previous blog about my dating endeavours you will notice that I have some updates and fresh nicknames. First, gobble gobble is history we only spoke briefly but as I mentioned to a friend, sometimes I get carried away and don't even know what I am saying anymore so when I asked if he caught any of his family members on fire while frying their Thanksgiving turkey, he passed on further conversation. I don't blame him.

Winter sports (formerly known as Lassie) is also gone. This one is more of a sad case. I actually liked winter sports, he was extremely handsome, seemed to have his life together and was nice to talk to. However, somewhere between not answering all my questions and when I tried to look up his facebook and found it photoless, I convinced myself he was married with children and didn't want to get chopped up into little pieces so I abruptly stopped talking. Yep just never answered again.... I know, this is probably how people get complexes.

Yale (formerly snowmaggedon) and I actually made it out for drinks. I was a little worried about this one as I know where my smarts start and finish, and they never finished at Yale University as his did. So after being convinced by several friends to just go with it, I did... and well, it went something like this. Yale shows up a little late in a 3 piece suit and a fabric tie. Its Friday did I mention? I tried to make light of the idea that casual Fridays were a regular practice in my office hence my attire, but then realized I wasn't the one out of place at The Big Hunt, so I let it go. When he got around to asking me what I did after he mentioned his extensive background in education, I spoke about the non profit I work for. And then he pulled out a chart that looked like this:









Kidding. But he might as well, because he started quizzing me on percentages in the red and blue states because it was "acceptable since we live in DC." Is it? It doesn't matter, I didn't have the answers to most, so I made up a lot of stuff. If they gave A's in bullshitting, I would have been on the Dean's list. Needless to say after a rousing conversation about teen pregnancy, I told him to just go to my home town of P.G. county to get real facts and then we could be done with this conversation.... ok kidding again but that is what I was thinking. Anyways, I think my eyes began to cross as he was talking because his fabric tie started to look like it was becoming 3-D and jumping out at me. Time to go.

So Yale is gone. I ended up going out with China as well- I hadn't mentioned him because he popped up out of no where and we actually went on a couple dates. Then after admitting that I had lost some weight on an earlier date, this jabroni actually tells me some story of his neighbors childhood as a fat kid and I nearly punched him in the eyeball. Are you dense? Never.... never make fun of a fat person to a former chub. There were many other things that went wrong after the second outing, but I think you get the point.

I felt a renewal of energy this week and began conversations with a few new people. But all of the sudden this baby used the IM function and totally caught me off guard. After asking me if I thought age mattered, I said sort of since he was 5 years my junior, but I suppose it was really about the maturity level. He asked if we could chat some and see where it went. I agreed but was immediately regretful once I looked at his profile.... I interrupted his typing..."Ahem, I'm really sorry, I know I said we could chat some but I just looked at your profile and not only am I 5 years older than you, but you live an hour away and you are 2 inches shorter than me. This doesn't have a shot in hell." And then I immediately logged off. Between you and me, as most women would say, it was the 2 inches that mattered the most.

So what have I learned so far? Nothing.

The United Nations

That's what my 'dating' life is looking like right about now. I am not sure if it is that I don't have a type, or that I am so indifferent that I talk to everyone. I can at least say that I may be getting closer to world peace. All I need now is a Native American and maybe a Jew.

It looks a little something like this:So part of this blog is supposed to be about being single. UGH... even the word leaves a bad taste in my mouth. To be fair, it isn't all bad- I quite often listen to some stories by my coupled friends, who for the sake of me keeping those friendships shall remain nameless, that make me happy that I don't have to go through some of the woes of being connected to a better... or worse... halve.

In any case, to be completely open minded and frankly to get my new body out on the market as quickly as possible before I decide to let myself go again, I am trying online dating. Hmm... I know what you are thinking.... online dating?? Aren't there a bunch of creepies on there??? Yes. There are. I have spoken with a few of them, blocked some others, and took out restraining orders on the rest. Kidding.... sort of. But for your information, there are creepies everywhere. Can I get an AMEN from my small population of still single friends out there???? Anybody? Yes? No?... ok anyhow, there are because I have also met them. So why not rip the band aid off quickly and meet them all at once?

So I have been on a few dates, they were less then stellar to say the least. I have a tendency to nickname my potential mates, and so far Craigslist, Bruce and Bear Grils have all been big fat let downs. Something about being able to club a rabbit really never appealed to me. I am currently speaking with a few people right now, which could backfire since I usually can't remember what I said to someone 5 minutes ago let alone to several people over a span of a couple days. Thank goodness this website provides some sort of history of communication to remind me what foolishness I have said to these poor strangers.

On deck Lassie, Gobble Gobble, The winker, and Snowpocalypse. I believe the word may have gotten out that I am trying to have a social life beyond my social circle and some coworkers of mine have eluded to possible dates for me. Just yesterday our HR manager asked me out of her side eye.... "so whats your type?" (as to say is quietly some how made it less desperate for me) I responded with, "men." She giggled even though I was serious and said that there was a man in her neighborhood that jogs by her w/ his dog all the time and she thought he was very handsome. I responded with a dead stare and she then said "I'll take care of it." I am not sure what that means but if this is the criteria for setting me up, I'm screwed. Does she know this man??? Nope. Just thought he looked handsome. Serial killer? Could be- but definitely handsome. At least he has that going for him.

Lord. Buckle up and stay tuned!

I always knew Pikachu looked a little heavy set....

For some of you, this name is synonymous with the little yellow pokemon cartoon character from the late 90's?? Maybe 2000's but I have no idea because I didn't watch it. However Pikachu for me, is actually the name a woman in my WW meeting continues to write on her name tag. Yes, I said woman.... probably in her 40's or 50's. Anyhow, I wouldn't have anything to say about Pikachu if she wouldn't stop interrupting the meeting to mention that she is a giant alcoholic. Now... some of you may be going "aww.... that's sad." Stop it. Pikachu wants you to know that no one poured liquor down her throat and it was a choice and so is eating bad food. (Tell that to the women who sleep eat in the middle of the night only to wake up find that downed a who cake out of their fridge and didn't even get to enjoy it!) I digress....

So at first I found Pikachu endearing, she mention her drinking problem once or twice but said she was in AA and it was under control. Good for you! Drinking.. check..... weight control... check.... you are on a roll sister! However, it wasn't until this last outburst that it has occurred to me that she may or may not be drunk during our meetings. Please for a moment try to imagine the wicked witch of the west. No, I am not insulting her looks, I want you to think of her voice, slightly crackly and the tone and volume sort of go up and down at weird times. Anyhow, this is Pikachu's voice, only much sllllooooowwweeerrrrr. She is always rather disheveled looking, and sometimes wanders around the meeting before it starts talking to herself.

Has she fallen off the wagon??? I mean I know weight gain is tricky and frankly sometimes food is addictive, but have we really gotten to the point where we are likening our food cravings to binge drinking??? I wasn't ready to go there, but I like your style Pikachu. If you could get your random outbursts in check we might be on the same page. And well lets be honest, if I didn't have you to come in a return food you have purchased simply because you didn't like the taste, or try to offer me some after you have already opened it, hell I'm not sure who I would look forward to seeing every meeting.

So thank you Pikachu, on or off the wagon, you are just the right amount of bat shit crazy I need on a Saturday morning.

A Winter Without Fat

So not that I am complaining because obviously I am feeling great these days, but it has occurred to me that I as we say goodbye to these blissful warm summer days and roll into fall that the weather is starting to get a bit chilly.

Now I should be clear and say that my favorite season is fall. At least.... it has been. The changing of the season is one I have always looked forward to. However, recently I have realized that this season will be different than several seasons past..... I don't have my fat.

Why is this a problem you ask??? Well for one, my fat kept me warm. While all you skinny minnie's were strutting around in your stylish coats and fashionable scarves, I was waltzing around in my big ass north face fleece, getting rather warm underneath because I was a human incubator.

So not only has my condo not turned on the water heaters yet so I am walking around in my own house with six sweaters on a four pairs of pants..... its not even technically winter yet!!! If this is what I have to look forward to in the upcoming months in my now completely ridiculous looking over sized north face fleece that lets all the cold air up the bottom because I have no fat to keep it out and I am to cheap to continue buying "transition" clothes, I am going to be miserable!!

Therefore I am going to say the thing you aren't suppose to say when you are loosing weight. I miss my fat. Its official. You can say "Sara quit your complaining!" and I will say "BRRRRRR I can't talk because I am a human popsicle!"

Is it time for Popeye's yet?

Taco Hell

Helllooooo everyone- It has been awhile because Audrey and I have been working our tushies off and haven't had a chance to blog. I mean it, literally... tushies = gone.

Well sort of. They are still there but look much smaller than their original size. I digress, anyhow Audrey and I had a great weigh in so we thought it would be a great idea to ruin it by eating whatever we felt like. Okay so maybe that wasn't our original motive, in fact we started off fine, but somewhere down the line things went awry.

After making some mistakes at Ruby Tuesday's for lunch we decided that we wanted Taco Bell for dinner. Now I haven't had Taco Bell in like a year or longer, the same goes for Audrey- so this pretty much had regret written all over it.

Reaching that counter was like reaching the finish line of a marathon. Now... to order. It was like riding a bicycle, I tossed out my selection like I had been ordering taco bell my whole life. Maybe because I had been, but whatever. To get the full picture of our experience, you must stop reading this blog and sit in silence for 15 minutes. This 15 minutes represents the silence that took place once we started eating.

I had nothing to say to Audrey, I was too busy shoving my face full of beefy glory. (I know what that sounded like, and I just don't care) I did pause once to look up at Audrey who then asked me how I was doing because I began to sweat and was breathing heavy. Upon realizing this I began to laugh uncontrollably and just repeat, "I am definitely going to vomit." To which Audrey replied, "Can I unbutton my pants?" Me: "Can people see your buttons?" Audrey: "No." Me: "Then go for it." It continued to go downhill from there. Audrey?

Audrey here. I'm in a blackout food coma right now and Sara is forcing me to blog. Seriously, I know we went to Taco Bell and I know I enjoyed it but seriously, right now the the beefy, beany, cheesy Taco Belly goodness has me all kinds of messed up.

To continue Sara's story. I look across the table and Sara looks like she might be ill but at the same time continues to soldier on and finish her meal. At this point I have demolished the smorgasbord of the food I ordered. I'm pretty sure I also blacked out and inhaled my food while we were there because I felt like there was a tray of food and then I came too and there I was dragging my finger across the Nacho Supreme tray licking off the last bit of nacho cheese with a trayful of used napkins and taco wrappers. All the while Sara is scraping the last bit of cheese out of her container with a spork. Don't judge us bitches.

Because this was a Chicken Bell, at some point Sara and I decided to take a second out of our low moment at Taco Bell to discuss the pros and cons of Popeyes and KFC and which was better. I believe the line from Sara was "I don't want to be friends with anyone who likes KFC." Me: "Really? Because I like KFC's sides better." Seriously, we will always be fat kids.

So at this point Sara is now looking a little green and using the rest of her napkins to wipe the sweat off her forehead and looks down at her tray and says "I need this to be gone." At which point Sara then promptly gets up, throws away her trash and walks out. By the time I reach the car, Sara is in the car with the door half open and with the air conditioning on full blast. I on other hand am seriously challenged getting to the car and nearly eat shit to which Sara yells at me "Stop making me laugh I am not out of the vomit zone yet!"

I'm seriously concerned that Sara is about to vom on her steering wheel to which I tell her: "If vomit comes spewing out of your mouth right now I am going to be soo disgusted." All I can think of is all of this is so ridiculous that it needs to be documented in photos. To which I ask Sara as she is now sitting half passed out with her pants unbuttoned in the car "Can I take a picture of you right now?" And thus I did. Check out below. You can see the aftermath of our Taco Bell Barf-Fest (and yes that is what I named this meal in my WW tracker.)



This is Sara looking particularly ready to hurl.


Let's face it this picture needs no caption.


And yes. My pants are unbuttoned.

The Accidental Jog

So I will make this one short and sweet. If you don't want to die, don't jog in really hot weather.

I don't ever follow my own rules, so here is how this one goes:

I was trying to figure out a way to make my puppy tired because she always looks at me like this:




And I wanted her
to look like this:








In any case, that lead me outside on Saturday at 2pm right around the time you would consider frying an egg on your own car. So we started walking through the trails (I had geared up in workout clothes only to avoid getting my regular clothes sweaty) and in no time I realized Olive was not anywhere close to tired.

And then something happened.... I started jogging. It wasn't on purpose but simply in an effort to tire my pup out quickly. And then I was jogging some more and before I knew it I was in a full blown work out. What was I thinking?!?! It was a gagillion degrees outside?!?! I wanted to punch myself but had zero energy to do so. By the time I started back home I was at the point of dehydration and considered licking a puddle.

When my tingly body finally got back to my house I was looking rough. I happened to notice my face was a separate shade of red then the rest of my body and I felt like I could spontaneously combust. As you can see here, I was at the very least trying to remain positive:









What ended up happening was delirium set in.... I cannot recall much after this last photo, but I am pretty sure it involved me running around my house with no clothes on and taking the longest straight cold shower I had ever had:












So! Lesson learned.... it would have been easier to sniff a Sharpie a few times to reach that type of bodily malfunction.

Hot as Balls Yoga

I mean hot bikram yoga. Ok so thanks to living social I let my friend Meghan convince me to join her for the deal of a lifetime! 5 classes of hot bikram yoga for $25 smackers.

Now for those of you that may not be familiar with this form of yoga, it is basically regular yoga in a room that is 105 degrees...... for 90 minutes. I'm not gonna lie, I failed to read that last part, so it was to my delight in an already hot room to find out I would be in there for over an hour. Yeesh.

So I went out with some friends the night before and like a good girl, I avoided drinking. The truth was I was so paranoid I would keel over and die, so I wanted to make sure I didn't reak of booze when it happened. Coincidentally I had an asthma attack that very evening for the first time in perhaps a decade after battling it out on the dance floor with 3 guys who were egging me on. Due to my state of sober, I participated to keep myself amused only to immediately regret all the showing off I did approximately 5 minutes after it ended (this was after I had to convince the main character to put me down in his attempt to out do me by picking me up off the ground.... if we have met, you know that is a huge no no for me).

In any case, I now had this lingering feeling that my asthma attack was Jesus's way of telling me to stay out of that hot room. I should listen to Him right? As I have done too many times before, I clearly did not take Jesus's sign to stay away and I participated anyhow. Ugh.

So Meghan and I get in the room, and at first, not so bad... very smelly, but not bad. I will say though after about 10 minutes I was left wondering why we went in so soon, clearly we had another 10 minutes before it got started. Then we begin. I can say that the very first thing I did which was put my arms over my head, I began to get dizzy and started seeing spots. WTF?!?! How the hell was I gonna make it through 90 minutes if I can't put my arms over my head after 10! Good gracious, fortunately I bounced back and Meghan and I trucked along slowly. We certainly weren't any yoga masters and had to take pauses here and there, but us out of shape ladies managed to NOT exit the room and stick it out for the entire session. Amazeballs. Truthfully, I would have felt just as bad had I done no yoga at all and just sat there in that crazy room.

I have never sweat that much in my life. My shins sweat, my toes and my forearms. Yeah.... all places you wouldn't think that would happen. I was one slippery beast after it was done. We took our red sweaty asses out to the lobby to chill and I pulled out a snack. Meghan promptly looked at me and asked if we could head to the car. Fine by me! I'm ready to get in the..... hooooaaahhhhh.....Meghan projectile vomits on the sidewalk. Oh shizzzz! Here it comes again... hoooaaahhhh.... in the grass.

She looks back at me and hands me her things as she begins to stumble to the car. "Well I hope... hooooaaaahhhhh..... this doesn't deter you from ..... hoooaaaahhhh.... doing this with me again."

No Meghan. It doesn't. :)