I did it. I struggled with it. Bitched about it. Cheated a little on it. Pity partied myself about this diet I’m on. My sister is kickin butt (her own into hottie shape) on this diet and recommended I do it, cuz we are pretty much built the same, what with her being my sis and all. It is working!
But it is no salt. No sugar. No alcohol..I know. It’s summer… Helllloooooo!? No Mike’s?! No Apricot Ale? You have to drink tons of water and eat exactly 2 oz portions of protein 5 times a day with a healty carb. But… no bread and gasp…..dare I say it…..no CHEESE. That is the part that kills me. People, I don’t eat no stinkin’ American Cheese yellow crap. I’m into the good stuff. Bring me a room temp slab of Cambezola, or my latest to die for fav is a homemade che’vre that is made just up the street from me by a culinary GODDESS!
No cheese. Wha the wha? I say.
And I’ve been sticking with it for almost 2 weeks now and the dang scales keep telling me that I am getting nowhere with this. Not a pound. This of course adds to the bitching, pity party… blah blah blah.
But this morning, I pull on a pair of jeans with a whooosh! Normally we hear screaching noises. Whoosh. I look thinner. I go get on the scales…. it says:
No, you are still fat.
Screw that! I went to town to get sumtin an in the process… tried on a pair of pants one size smaller than my usual. THEY FIT!! I thought about my scale…. enraged, I was now on a mission to find a replacement scale. Got it.. this one’s digital.. with a lithium battery… not some dumbass little needle to rely on.
I go home.. with 3 pairs of shorts and one pair of pants… all in a size smaller than my usual. I get there, and set the old crappy scale out in the hall. Set up the new one, get on and she says:
Girl, you lookin’ good! You are down some 7 pounds! MMM…mmmm. I can’t tell you inches, but honey.. lookin’ nice from down here!
I’m so happy, I’m so happy, I’m so happy!
Hubby comes home to find old scale in the hallway..
Him: What’s up?
Me: It doesn’t work. It lies. It’s broke or something.
Him: Let me see…. (gets on old one) 144….ok…(gets on new one) hmmm… 144. Not broken Lisa.
Him: you try
Me:GRRRRRR (step on new scale) Angels sing….. (step on old scale) it says: OUCH, YOUR FAT!
Him: Strange, the accuracy must go down as the weight goes up.
Me: I dont’ say anything.. but I am just looking at him like you know… he’s gonna die.
Can you BELEIVE he said that? Whatever.. I’m looking good and gonna keep going!!