Day One (a few days delayed)

So I've been tossing around the idea of keeping a weight-loss blog for awhile now.  I'm really not much of a writer and... well... who the hell is going to read this? Also, I'm trying something NEW this time around: I'm not talking about it.  I mean, my closest friends and my mother all know that I've gone back to Weight Watchers, but I'm not doing the whole 'circle of support' thing this time.  It's just me, and, well... you.

So, since I've really no one to talk to about this whole thing, I suppose the blog is a good idea.  Even if no one reads it but me.

I weighed in on Tuesday, January 3rd, 2012 at 271.4 pounds.  I've set my target weight at 150 pounds, so if you round up... that means... I have 122 pounds to lose.

Oy vey is right!

So, why do I think that this time will be any different? How about some back story...

I've been overweight all my life.  I don't remember ever feeling anything but fat.  The closest I came was in 9th grade when I fit into a size 7 dress for homecoming.  Even then I was convinced that the dress had been mislabeled or something, because I was regularly wearing a size 11 at least.  That was 18 years ago.

That means that if I'd gotten knocked up at my freshman year homecoming dance then I could have a 17 year old right now.  If if THAT child followed in my footsteps I could have a 3 and half year old GRANDKID.  But I didn't get knocked up at the dance.  I didn't even get laid.  At all.  In high school.  Or college.  Or most of my 20s.  I snuck that sonofab***h in under the wire at age 29, mostly just so I wasn't a 30-year old virgin.  And I haven't been laid since.

Now, this would be the saddest story if it wasn't for the fact that I'm actually pretty cool.  There are things that I like about myself, especially my blue eyes and long eyelashes.  I'm pretty sure that I've got a great sense of humor, and I usually keep everyone around me smiling and comfortable.  I'm compassionate and kind, and generous to a fault.  I followed my dream of becoming a photographer straight to New York City, where I currently live.  I'm doing well in my industry, and have managed to survive big city rent and expenses for over two years now.  Yet, despite all of that, I have absolutely zero confidence when it comes to matters of the heart.

I have always had really close guy friends.  My closest friend at any point in time over that last decade or so has always been a straight dude, and I've always harbored a secret, dying, burning, never-ceasing, standing-up-falling-down crush on this guy.

First it was "K" - he wanted to learn how to make prints in a darkroom and, surprise, I had a darkroom at my house.  Hours and days and weeks went by with us maneuvering around each other in the dark, and my crush just grew and grew... K played the guitar, and wrote songs, and sang them whilst playing the guitar... (One time he did an acoustic cover of Usher's "Nice and Slow" and dedicated it to me.) Of course I had a crush on him.  So finally (after consuming at least a full bottle of liquid courage, AKA whiskey) I told him... on New Years Eve.  He apparently had also consumed a good amount of liquid courage that night, enough so that he was brave enough to call me a "fat f***ing b***h" and blame me for the fact that my best girl friend ("M") didn't want to date him.  The night ended with him running over my foot with his car while I tried to stop him from driving home drunk.

(Fast forward to today: K still lives in a trailer in the same town we grew up in, has a nice long record of DUIs, and works for a landscaping company... that is owned by M's husband!)

Then, there was "D" - he was a line cook at the chain restaurant where we both worked and was attending the local trade school.  Also, he was missing a tooth... in front.  Today, D is still living in the same town and putting his trade school degree certificate to good use in his job at the Apple Store.  I never thought I'd get over D - my crush on him was ACUTE.  That crush crushed me.

Then, "J" - he was a good guy and still is.  After years of trying to figure out whether or not to be a fire fighter or a police officer, he joined the Air Force and now lives on base in Oklahoma.  He's married to a beautiful woman and I couldn't be happier for them.  I'm glad that we're still close friends - but that was only possible because I was able to "transfer" my crush on J onto...

"K2." Oh, K2.  We were the kind of friends that you only have a few times in your life.  The kind that were so different, yet we able to connect and empathize on such a deep level that I was actually starting to believe in the idea of 'past lives.'  Ladies loved him, and he loved the ladies, but it never really bothered me because our connection was so much... MORE.  I should also mention that he sang and played the guitar as well... (One time he did an acoustic cover of Damien Rice's "The Professor/La Fille Danse" complete with singing in French at the end and dedicated it to me.)  One day K2 announced that he'd fallen in love with his sister's best friend and was moving to Minnesota to live with her and her son.  I thought I was going to die.  I couldn't stand being in that city without him, so, naturally, I moved to New Mexico...

Where I prompted met and fell in love with "N."  N has been my best friend for 4.5 years now.  He moved to NYC from New Mexico about a year before me.  I'd always wanted to live in NYC and having him here, well... that was enough for me.  I spent the next year in New Mexico working my a$$ off.  I saved every dollar I made, gave the guy that got my V-card a big fat kiss and hit the road without looking back.  I lived with N for a week (on an air mattress on the floor of his tiny basement-level Brooklyn apartment) while I looked for my own place.  I ended up moving pretty close to his apartment (intentionally) and most of the work I got for my first year here was through him and connections he'd made.  Although I have 'peripheral' friends, he's really been the center of my universe.  We do everything together.

Well, we did... until eight days ago.  Eight days ago I had a come-apart... a come-to-jesus moment.  We had both just gotten back from spending the holidays visiting family, and I hadn't seen him in over two weeks.  So we went out to run some errands and grab dinner - and it hit me.  He bums me out. Like, seriously, being around him was BUMMING ME OUT HARDCORE.  I didn't know why, but I was pretty sure that it was ME, not him, that was the problem.  So I went home and thought about it.  And I woke up the next day (New Year's Eve - we have a bad history) and decided I had to tell him how I felt.  And not because I wanted him to share the feelings and say we'd live happily ever after, but because it wasn't fair for me to hate him so much for not being what I wanted him to be.  So I told him, and he's a champ, and we're still friends.  And now I'm back to square one.

So basically, I've had it.  I'm over it.  I want to fall in love.  Well, eventually.  First, I want to fall in like.  And get laid.  And get my heart broken.  I really want to experience all of these things, because I am dangerously close to full-heartedly believing that they're not in the cards for me, that there is something WRONG with me, that I don't deserve to be loved, or liked, or laid... If things don't start happening for me soon, I might loose all hope.

So, it's 2012.  My little brother and my best friend from college are both getting married at the end of the year, and I refuse to be the fat, pathetic bridesmaid.  I want to be the hot, single bridesmaid!  I want to get hit on!  I want to get drunk and dance my a$$ off without being self-conscious.  I want to think a guy is cute and feel a twinge of hope, not immediate dejection.  I want to be able to put full-length photos on my online dating profile.  I want to enjoy shopping like girls are supposed to.  I want to be able to buy shoes because they're CUTE not because my feet might not hurt as much in them.  I want to be able to fall asleep without a CPAP machine.  I want to fly on an airplane and not worry if I'm bothering the person next to me.  I want to love, and shop, and travel...

Basically, I want to live my life.  And for ME, I can't do that as a fat person.  So that's that.  I'm on day four of my new lifestyle and on Tuesday the 10th I'll weigh in again.  If all goes as planned, that number should be lower than 271.4.  Then I'll do it again next week.

How I'm doing it:

• I quit drinking soda. 100%. No more soda, period.
• I'm drinking as much water as I can. Every time I think about food or soda, I just gulp a ton of water.
• I've replaced my caffeine needs with unsweetened Green Tea (both iced and hot.)
• I'm on Weight Watchers, doing the new PointsPlus 2012 plan.
• I'm writing down EVERYTHING I eat.
• I'm eating three meals a day like a normal person.
• I'm going to make a serious effort to get to the gym 2-3 times a week for some light cardio, and I'm doing light weights and floor exercises every evening at home.

Nothing groundbreaking, no fad diets, no cleanses, no pills (outside of a multivitamin and fish oil once a day), and no surgery (it was a serious contender at one point) - just a new, healthier lifestyle that I think I can keep up forever.

So, if you'd like to follow along on my journey, stay tuned.  I promise to hold nothing back.  All of my successes, and all of my failures, will be laid bare here for all to see.

-K