I can sort of taste the sweet satisfaction of victory. 

I weighed in this morning at 175.5; this means I am only eight pounds away from hitting my lowest weight since I was in elementary school playing four square like a champ. 

If you knew me well, you would know that I am obsessed with numbers. I got down to 170 last year, but for the longest time could not lose any more weight. It was puzzling, frustrating, and downright pathetic. I eventually fucked myself over and gained back 40 pounds cuz I just stop giving a shit.

So yeah, the final rounds of holiday cheer are quickly approaching. I have already decided on the following:

1) I will not eat too much of my grandma’s roasted duck 

2) I will not get too shitfaced on New Year’s Eve and will only have ONE slice of Mesa pizza after bar closing (No — waiting in line for 25 minutes for macaroni and cheese pizza does not justify getting two or three slices).

3) I will not let “just wait till after the holidays/new year’s resolution bullshit” influence me.

So there ya go…

I have four interviews in the next week and a possible freelance blogging gig. Wouldn’t being employed be the best holiday gift next to Jake Gyllenhaal surprising you with some chicken and waffles wearing only a Santa hat? 

I hate food nazis.

People who get off on painfully describing how much “healthier” they are than you because they eat “clean” and overpriced shit labeled organic from Whole Foods drive me insane.

Why am I eating a pop-tart? Because I fucking want to — that’s why. 

It may come to a surprise to many woeful dieters, but you can in fact lose weight while enjoying some freshly microwaved butter cookies from Mrs.Fields every now and then. As long as you aren’t eating the entire cookie jar in one sitting, you will be fine.

The funny thing about food nazis is that many of these turds are still fatasses themselves. They go on and on about how they enjoy eating fresh vegetables and fruits all day long and how they no longer enjoy ice cream because their tastes have changed or some bullshit. What ends up happening is they deprive themselves of all these treats and FUCKING SURPRISE, they give in to some of those delicious pop-tarts while watching Glee and bitch about how they can’t lose weight.

Honestly? You are gonna tell me that you would rather eat carrot sticks than a cinnabon. Get the fuck out of here! 

Being indecisive has been a recurring theme in the past 24 years of my life. I can’t seem to make up my mind about anything except for wanting to look good nekkid. 

Even the smallest of decisions like ordering off the menu at a restaurant takes me about five times longer than the average human being. I always end up pissing off the wait staff and the poor souls who have to dine with me because of my inability to commit.

How do you really know what is right for you? You can only do so much soul searching in a lifetime. Perhaps I am meant to be a wandering samurai for the rest of my days. 

Well, there is more videogaming to be done and American Horror Story to watch. Seriously, Dylan WhatsHisName is like the hottest 50 year old everz. 

When you are unemployed you have a lot of time to think about life and shit. Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my previous weight loss blog — precisely, the moment I decided to stop working on it. 

It has come to my attention that my life really started to fall apart after I gave up blogging. Naturally, my weight crept back up and I stopped giving a shit. Since I no longer had an audience to stay accountable to and a reputation to uphold, it made it far easier for me to give in to the natural tendencies of a former fattie: eat junk, and a lot of it. 

I suppose blogging was a form of self-therapy as well. It allowed me to capture my rapid thoughts into a concise and understandable form, which in retrospect gave me some peace in life. Without a place to vent about crap that only I and my fellow dieters would understand, I became more anxious and less sure of myself.

Most importantly, blogging gave me an identity. I coined the ridiculous nickname “The Pink Panda” and people went along with it. I was a moderately well known blogger within the “dieting blogosphere” through a string of good luck, which in turn made me feel like I had a strong sense of purpose.

After I stopped blogging, my purpose and identity both suffered incredibly. This would eventually lead me to impulsively quitting my day job and committing to a year of volunteer service. I wanted to fill the voids in my life and thought that volunteering would be the answer.

Boy, was I wrong. Long story short, my placement was a mess and I ended up quitting two months in. I am now paying dearly for my bad decisions and have a feeling I will be unemployed for much longer than I originally thought seeing that my resume is royally fucked. Don’t believe me? I am 0 for 8 in interviews.

So now I am back home living the life in my parent’s basement. I’ve made a mess out of things and I’m working overtime to fix them. 

This blog symbolizes my second chance. I will not give up on the job hunt and I will most certainly not give up on my diet.

The will of the dragon is in full force, baby!

With my lack of posts, you would think that I had fallen completely off the bandwagon and was celebrating life with daily trips to DQ and Mrs. Field’s. Au contraire; completely the opposite, in fact. 

You see, I had an epiphany of epiphanies a few weeks back, right after a week long bingathon in Chicago. I realized that I have the rest of my life to eat. 

Let me explain. Usually my binges start with a moment of weakness: a friend offers me a cookie or, perhaps, asks me to go out to eat. I try with all my willpower to resist, but I end up succumbing and “cheating” on my diet. I then think to myself that well, I fucked up, so I might as well just eat shit the rest of the day and start again tomorrow. 

Well that tomorrow usually ends up being a few days or weeks later — and now it’s like I’ve ruined all the progress I’ve made and have to start over. 

Has this happened to you? It probably has. And if you say it hasn’t: you are probably lying.

But ya know, a light bulb went off a day or two before Thanksgiving. I was like — holy FUCK, I don’t have to eat everything I want right now. There are many days left in my life to enjoy some pop-tarts or a freshly baked donut from the local bakery. I don’t have to eat everything right now. 

I mean, this seems like fucking common sense, but it just didn’t register in my head till recently…and I’ve been doing this dieting thing for almost four years now. 

I am like a steel wall now; you can put a pint of Cinnamon Buns in front of me and I will not crack. I just tell myself, hey self, you can have this on your off day in about 48 hours. It works; it truly does. 

I dunno, thought I would shared this with you guys. It might help you as well. 

I’m almost back down to my pre-Thanksgiving Chicago binge week weight, which is fabulous. I have no doubt in my mind that I will reach my 150 pound loss goal by the end of January. 

Peace!

I’ve been pretty quiet because I don’t like having to report that I gained 6 pounds in one week, but that is exactly what happened. I’m in the process of doing some damage control — it’s gonna take a while. Sigh, when will I ever learn? Looks like I won’t be hitting the 150 pound mark till after 99% of the population has given up on their New Year’s resolutions. 

I’m not gonna sit around and act like everything is peachy - it isn’t. Seeing a gain of ten pounds in a week is a mind fuck. I’m an experienced enough dieter to know that I didn’t actually gain ten pounds, but watching my progress disintegrate into a puddle of mush because I had a few more slices of pumpkin pie goodness and a couple more scoops of half-baked decadence than usual is particularly disturbing no matter the circumstances. 

Today I got my ass out of bed, gulped down a cup full of greek yogurt, and went straight to the gym. This is me pissed and ready to take revenge on my malicious sweet tooth. 

You better believe I’m chugging water like a madman. 

Ah, I’m happy to be back in Minnesota for turkey day. I gained like nine pounds back in the past week due to a number of idiotic decisions in Chicago, but I am not gonna bitch about that right now. I’ll save it for after Thanksgiving =).

Today, I’m gonna enjoy the hell out of some pumpkin pie and gossip with the family. 

Happy Thanksgiving everyone =)

So naturally after having a magnificent weigh-in, I binged on chips and chocolate chips during poker night. The scale says I’m up two pounds, but I’m guessing/hoping that this is water weight. 

Best case scenario is that I maintain through Black Friday. If I can just do that, I’ll be more than satisfied. Gonna be in Chicago till Tuesday job hunting the heck out of LinkedIn, Craigslist, and Career Builder, and then back home to Minneapolis for the feast of the century.