Love is: Holding in a poo, so that you don't have to walk across in front of your boyfriend and his mate, whilst they play some Rock Band game or other.
I've lost 21 lbs in about the last nine weeks and I'm very happy about that (although admittedly I *did* have an organ full of stones cut out of me during that time, which must have helped). I am still far from my goal weight but I am the kind of person who stays on track, once they have made a decision... So yeah, go me, the day will come. Of course, the problem is keeping it off but I will face that when I get to it.
HOWEVER, not everyone has my level of resolve, or ambition. For instance, a girl who belongs to the same weight-loss forum as me (you don't get to see ALL my online activities here you know) is complaining that she can't find the motivation to carry on dieting, because
SHE NOW FITS INTO CHAIRS THAT HAVE ARMS.
I shit you not.
Now, whilst I can perfectly understand somebody getting into the situation where weight creeps on and chairs become a problem... How in HELL can somebody recognise that they have expanded to a vast size, address that issue, prove to themselves that it is possible to lose weight, become small enough to squash into a human chair and then go "Fuck it, I can't be bothered to diet now! I can fit through doors and sit on furniture! Pass me the nachos and cheese! In fact, wrap 'em up in a pizza!"? Does she really think that she has DONE ENOUGH? Is that really the limit of this girl's physical aspirations?
I think fitting into a fucking chair should be a MARKER on the way to her goal, not the GOAL itself. Raise the bar, lady.
And NO, she isn't American.
I haven't been around much on LJ lately. One of the reasons for that is that last Monday I was stabbed five times and had my gallbladder sliced out, using a hot wire...I know there is a fancy name for the operation but I've forgotten what it is. I can tell you that it was "keyhole surgery" (hence all the tiny wounds) and that it healed up fast, with just a few sticking plasters and a bit of mild pain-relief (after the event...I mean, they knocked me out to do it).
So it is, as they say, "all good"... Apart from the way my belly-button looks.
Now, I don't want to complain about a successful operation, with a phenomenally easy recovery and a price tag of ZERO pounds (ah, British medical care) BUT - going in through a hole just below my belly-button left a scar that looks... Well, it looks like my belly-button is twice the size it used to be. I think maybe Unimag has made me feel worse about it than I should do...
Me: What do you think of my belly-button? I think it looks a bit odd.
Unimag (my loving boyfriend): Jesus Christ, it is FREAKISH!
Me: No, you're supposed to say it looks OK and that it will settle down...
Unimag: But it is HUGE. Ughhh! Fucking hell, don't keep showing it to me!
Me: How is that supportive?!
Unimag: I can't think of anything supportive to say. I mean, it looks like it was designed by David Cronenberg.
*Sigh*. Like I said, I'm recovering fast. I wonder how long it will be until I am fit enough to kick him up the arse?
WTF?! I have ALWAYS thought that Mr. Garrison's puppet was called "Mr. Head". NOW I find out, from Unimag (who is taking the piss out of me as we speak), that the puppet is called "Mr. HAT".
I repeat, WTF?!
I blame all you Americans for having such a stupid fucking accent. Say "hat" properly and stop making it sound like "head".