Saturday, November 13, 2010

Moment of Insanity aka Chub for Grub

Recently, I decided to embark on a little an effort to fill my karma bank, I made public my decision to collect pledges per pound of weight lost and money collected would go to a food bank.  This is a lovely idea.  This is a beautiful, well thought out plan. This scheme hatched when I was high on Kit Kat bars and Reeses peaut butter cups I had stolen from my kids Halloween candy bags.   Phone calls were made.  Facebook pages created and emails requesting sponsors were sent the way, if you're reading this and want to, ahem, add to my 'motivation' that would be great!  As it stands, when (not if, WHEN) I lose my 50 pounds, I will (provided no one flakes out of me) collect almost $1500 for a wonderful organization that feeds lots of hungry people throughout the year.  If you are ever tempted to do something like this, please follow my advise for an easier transition to your new way of eating.

My Guide to Navigating a Low Carb Lifestyle in the Name of Charity Once Sugar Buzz Wears Off

The first thing you should do when struck with an idea that involves the fun, fun task of weight loss is to TELL EVERY ONE YOU KNOW.  Convince yourself the more people paying attention to the junk in your trunk the more likely you will be to follow through!  You are a pioneer!  You will go where no one has gone before!  Put your idea on the internet and babble on and on about it to all of your pals.  Listen to them enthusiastically pledge their money.  Watch them smile and beam at what a great, thoughtful idea this is.  Try not to do that eyebrow raise - head swagger thing that will tell them that yeah,  you know this is a peach of an idea and yes, you are one hell of a gal.  Soak in accolades for a few days.  Walk a little taller.  Remember how you lost 40 pounds before and it was a piece of cake.  Think about cake.  Think about cupcakes.  Begin to realize if you are going to lose 50 pounds in six months, the love affair you've been having with cupcakes needs to end. 

Pull out low carb cookbooks.  Decide to start this thing off right with a sugar free chocolate cream pie.  Whisk, melt, stir.  Taste.  Wonder what the fuck you have just gotten yourself into because you a) have a major sugar addiction and b) fake sugar sucks.  It just does. Start to feel that panic you felt when your kids were babies and you couldn't find a pacifier when they were screaming.  Decide YOU are the boss of this situation.  Remember where you hid children's Halloween candy.  Go through it, pulling out  your favorites.  Hide in coffee cup in cupboard.  Tell yourself this just makes good carrying a pair of tweezers in your purse or a condom...well, the condom thing isn't really applicable to you because you have become celibate by default.  Start to wonder if nuns chose nun-dom because of those dresses because man, oh man, could you really do some cupcake eating if all you wore were black and white muu muus all day long.  Think about what a bad HABIT that would be.  Crack up at yourself.  Habit. Heh heh.  Habit.  Start to feel a little to Beavis and Butthead.  Refocus.

Run into a friend who works out like a fiend and probably has never had a french fry in her life.  Admire her figure.  Revel in her praise of your selfless decision.  Dismiss her comment about your age and how the last time you lost weight, you were in your twenties.  You've had kids since then and you are in your forties.  Blow this off.  For just a few minutes.  Look for paper bag to breath into because you are starting to hyperventilate.  Shit.  Go to book store...see a disproportionate number of books about fighting fat after 40 and wonder why 40 is the magic number for sucking at weight loss....who determined that?  Isn't 40 supposed to be the new 20?  Wonder if you've gotten in over your head.  Decide you have not.  You can do it! 

Stop at grocery store on the way home to pick up a few things for  your new way of eating...or WOE as some of the hipster (read: dorky) diet websites call it.  Walk into store and get greeted by perky lady sampling cake and egg nog.  Decide you don't want to hurt her feelings.  Take a sample.  Look outside...see two high school girls collecting food for local food bank.  Feel like a jackass. This is the universe telling you to stick with your plan.  But still finish your sample because it's only two bites and this is about MODERATION, not DEPRIVATION.  Decide it's a good thing you were never into drugs because you would have made a terrible are BRILLIANT at justifying the "just a little" way of thinking. Wonder if you will ever conquer the sugar monkey that has been on your back for years. 

Decide to make the best of CAN do it!  You WILL do it!  You have no idea how you will look, if 50 pounds will make a huge difference, if the only difference will be loose skin, in which case Oprah will need to be notified about this little plan so she can hook you up with Dr. Oz or whoever to cut it off and hopefully give you a new wardrobe and makeover, because she is so moved by your determination to show such self discipline in the name of benefiting others.  Wonder if you will look way older or way younger because it's a tough're are on the wrong side of forty to expect to look anything other than not terrible. What if you get jowls?  Right now you have a chubby face, which means the extra skin is still somewhat firm...think about other parts of your body that might look jowlish.  Again, think about your Oprah plan and hope she  is open to financing boob jobs.

Find that in spite of cake samples and sugar free pie disasters, you have dropped 4 pounds.  Only 46 more to go and you will march your skinny ass down to the food bank, give them a wad of checks, pat yourself on the back and drive to the nearest cupcake shop to celebrate with your monkey.  Because face it, he's not going anywhere.  He's just been sedated by steak.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

My Brilliant "Get Back Some Good Karma" Plan

A few weeks ago, I planned a class party for a bunch of first, second and third graders.  The theme was "friendship" autumn, no Halloween, nothing fallish, just "friendship"...not a whole lot to work with so in my effort to fill the two and a half hour party I suggested having a local children's art teacher come in and give a lesson using oil pastels. She agreed, we set it up and the party was planned. 

The day of the party, I rearranged the tables in the classroom to accommodate all of the children, spent lots of time dividing up oil pastels into little Dixie cups and cut the shit out of my hand, cutting paper to the appropriate size.  Then?  She didn't show up.  Now, trying to find something for 50 (yes, 50!) children to do when your entertainment has just flaked out on you is a bit of a mindfuck.  But somehow, we managed...of course, not without me complaining to the other teachers and fellow party volunteers about what an assbag this person was for flaking out.  Several people pondered the possibility of an emergency, an idea I smashed because I was pissed.  Remember this.  I bitched and moaned and totally disregarded the remote possibility something had happened and assumed she had just screwed me, the kids and left us hanging.  Ok....

Four days later, I get a phone call from this person...a sobbing phone call complete with apologies about why she didn't show up and it involved her then UNCONSCIOUS child.   Pause while you envision the ass of a donkey where my head would normally be.  In all of my years, there are a handful of times where I have truly, utterly felt like a total dick.  This was one of them. more story and I'll bring this all together.....last year, when I was going through one of the worst times of my life (we'll get to that in some other me...Lifetime movies have NOTHING on what I went through the past 18 months...but anyway.....)...whilst going through hell, I decided it would make total sense to feed the all seriousness, I thought it would be a nice thing to do, give my kids a chance to soak in the fact there are kids around here who don't have a home and are, we found a homeless shelter for women and children, found out that on Sundays the kitchen is closed and they needed 85 sack lunches delivered.  This was truly a moving experience for my children, as they delivered these meals to kids their age.  I decided this should be an annual holiday tradition for our family and recently started calling some shelters.  Turns out, with the economy in the hole, rather than a tuna wrap & chocolate chip cookie, the shelters really need cold, hard CASH. 

Like most, we have also been hit by the economy, so writing a check to a shelter that would make a real difference didn't seem doable.  Then, it hit me!  As I was sucking back my iced mocha, thinking about how great it would feel to dress up as a mermaid for next Halloween but then realizing you never see chubby mermaids, what with all the swimming they do and fish they eat...wait, would that make them cannibalish?  Maybe they are vegetarians...ANYWAY....I was just thinking how fun it would be to dress up as something that didn't require a million yards of fabric to cover my chubby body and feeling disappointed about the shelter situation, I heard the words "Chub for Grub" explode in my here's my thought: I would reach out to everyone, make a website ( - no I haven't made it yet, the website address is available so don't steal my cute idea, ok?)  where people could go on and SPONSOR ME....however much per pound...I'm giving myself six months and I'd like to lose 50 pounds.  The idea is once the six months are over, I collect the money from my sponsors via my website and donate every penny to the shelter!  You might be asking yourself why you'd want to sponsor a chubby little housewife lose weight?  Well, knowing it would go to help homeless women and children is your answer...I wouldn't keep any of it because a) I'm not a douche who would take money that is intended for homeless people and b) I NEED TO RE-FILL MY KARMA BANK AFTER THE DEBACLE WITH THE ART TEACHER.  UNDERSTAND??  OK. So that's my idea...of course, the fact that I have eaten approximately 4 pounds of Halloween candy and don't want any thing sweet ever again may possibly be giving me a sense of certain, undeniable future victory and in a week when the candy is gone I may be singing an entirely different tune, but I don't think so....I'm excited, I will be blogging about my 50 pound adventure and hope lots of people recognize the opportunity to help out not only the homeless, but also me.  That's right. Me.  Because if I have LOTS of people paying attention, I will be less likely to blow this off. 

I'd love some feedback, too....stupid, crazy idea? Good idea?  Do you want to do it with me?  Do you have some chub you'd like to exchange for grub?  This could be big if enough people hopped on board. No, not Bill and Melinda Gates buying a trillion malaria vaccinations, but it could make life a little more bearable for some people who would benefit from the kindness of strangers.

And?  I think I would make a REALLY cute mermaid.