charge money

I look so dignified and sober
considering that I was neither.

Laura looks pretty, as usual.
I look like I have an extra face
growing out of my face.

Geralyn never seems to age.

Hey, don't get any ideas!
It's hookah!

I had a great time with the ladies last night.
Not just because I was stinkin' drunk.
Oh, yeah, that rule about post-ops not drinking?
You really do have to be careful.
Booze enters the system very quickly.
You whiz passed tipsy on the way to loudly drunk, then in a flash, you sober up (unless of course you continue to drink).

I whizzed then tipped and somewhere along the line I misplaced my leftover container of untouched grilled swordfish. Hmmm, maybe it's still in my car.

For some god unknown reason, I had no appetite last night.
Even with the bypass, I almost ALWAYS have an appetite.

I only nibbled at my grilled shrimp appetizer.
I did devour my boring, iceberg lettuce salad,
but I didn't even taste my swordfish.
Said no to the wonderful rosemary bread.

I wonder if my appetite is inversely proportionate to my level of joy?
Or would that be level of Pinot Grigio?

Beautiful Laura gave me some great advice about being self-employed.
She built her business up from nothing.
She took her talents and her passion for communicating with dogs (yes, actual dogs...that's not a euphemism for ne'er do wells or anything like that) and developed a reputation for being one of the best on the East Coast for training difficult animals.

She charges money for her services.
Now that may sound like a no-brainer, but for me, that's a big step.

I've been doing workshops, facilitating dialogs, lecturing and speaking as a volunteer for so long, I have devalued myself (in my own mind).
I need to get comfortable with accepting fees for my work.

The recent No-Thank-Yous on the job front are threatening to kill my confidence.
I cannot let them.

Hey, I've seen some real clunkers out in the lecture/speaker/conference world.
For as mediocre as they were and as bad as they stank up the joint, they still got paid.

Hell, I can do that, right?
Get paid, that is, not stink...lol.
Yes, self, you can.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
Here's some good, practical advice from Laura Stack.
But I'm not speaking for "free".
I'll have my book with me.
Back end money!
click here or click below

Sluggy the Sluggish Slug

Hurley Puff makes
squinty eyes
at the camera and looks like he has
sleepy face.

I'm tired.
And not just since the bypass, nor since I've developed sleep apnea.
I mean
I've been tired since I was 10.

I was thick but not fat at that age.
I wasn't even chubby.
I had no allergies or chronic illness.
There was no obvious reason for my sluggishness.

I remember playing with my nephew at that age. He was 5 when I was 10.
He would want to run around and play energetic kid stuff and I would convince him to play "doll" type games, specifically Squashies.

I made up the name "Squashies".
I don't know what they were really called back in the 1970's.
We had one made of bunny fur that was larger than the others we called The Squash-ington Monument who was in charge of Squashie Town.

Playing Squashies was something we did sitting down.
Sometimes I would even recline while we played.

I hated running around. Being outside did not interest me.
I was "moo-shod" as we say in Italian.

Well, 34 years later and I'm still moo-shod.
I'd still rather play Squashies than ride a bike or play sports.
I'm still tired, sluggish and disinterested in doing anything too physically demanding.

People ask me if I miss working out.
I'll answer you right here and now:
NOPE.

I forced myself to work out.
And if you go back and read my blogs from my 6-day-a-week working out phase, you'll see that I used a helluva lot of "energy" drinks to keep me going.
I'd go to the gym, work out, then I'd come home and nap.

That extra energy from exercising never came.
I worked out 6 days a week for 10 months.
Hey, I have no regrets, but I don't miss it either.

My future of working out is uncertain, but whatever it will be, it will NOT involve pushing myself to be overly athletic.
Will my movement be...
Expressive?
Yes.
Oxygenated?
Sure.
Out of breath?
No.

I don't want to be so sedentary that I turn into atrophied mush,
but I don't want to force myself to do cardio for 45 minutes a day.
That's a fitness level that needs to be built.
If I build it great.
If I only build it to 20 minutes a day, that's fine too.

Right now, I'm ready to take a deep nap.
Why?
Hmph.
Let me think.
Well, I did sleep for 6 hours last night, so it can't be lack of sleep.
I went out to lunch and grocery shopping with my mother at noon.
Yeah, I shopped with her, carried all her groceries in, took out the garbage for her (my dad is in Virginia visiting my cousin or else he's the one who does garbage duty) and then carried in my own groceries.

So, why am I so exhausted I can barely keep my head up to type this blog??
I didn't work THAT hard.

Is it just my metabolism?
Do I have a sluggish spirit??

Hey, I'm not looking to be able to jump hurdles over here, just give me enough energy to get me through a semi-active day.

And while I figure this all out, give me the patience to be ok with myself.
Half my problem with my sluggishness is the way I feel about it.
I feel like it's a moral failing, a character flaw, that I should be ashamed for being so lethargic.

"Left unchecked and not dealt with,

rage,

envy,

and fear

can be toxic time bombs.

These harmful emotional states

can be as a deadly as any physical disease...

The first step in dealing with these emotional states
is not to beat your self up about feeling bad.
Do that and have yourself feeling worse
for having felt bad to begin with..."
- Royce's Relationship Resource

Ok, so I'm not the only one to recognize
the destructive loop
of feeling badly about feeling bad
or is it feeling bad about feeling badly (yeah that's it).

So as not to reinvent the wheel, let's see what Royce's Relationshop Resource has to say
about feeling better.

Tips to the Rescue

• Accept that you feel bad and give yourself credit for wanting to change.
• Laugh.' it's both a physical and emotional release.
• Have a good chat or laugh with an intelligent, well-informed person
• Choose to see emotions as something that can work for you rather than something that has power over you.
• Aromatherapy the olfactory system has an extraordinary and direct effect on the emotional body
• Meditate in a quite spot. Find a deeply natural place and be at one with nature.
• Use guided imagery or hypnosis to take you wonderful imaginary places of love, peace, contentment and joy.

Ok.
let me see what I can do.
But first, a nap.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
That ex-girlfriend of his was from San Fransisco??
Hmph.
He really needs to be going out with me, I'm tellin' ya...or him...or someone...anyone who'll listen, really.
He has said that the girlfriend broke up with him because she caught him "lying".
Hell, I wouldn't give him up that easily.
Ya don't throw out a Rolls Royce cuz it has a dent in it.
Or an old Toyota.
Or a middle-aged pervert who patronizes prostitutes about as often as I blog.
Eh.
No matter.
I love Jimmy Norton exactly as he is.
I really should love myself that unconditionally.
He did this bit at The Stress Factory when Matt and I went to see him a few weeks ago.
Hilarious!
WARNING: ADULT CONTENT!
click here or click below

Live at Gotham

Jim Norton - Tiger Attack Victims

More Funny Videos
Comedians on Tour

Get Funny Ringtones
Stand-Up Comedy

Feminine Farts

"The thing women have yet to learn is
nobody gives you power.
You just take it."
- Roseanne

"I have flabby thighs,
but fortunately my stomach covers them."
- Joan Rivers

Woof.
The day after Thanksgiving is a great day to clean, shop and cut some amazing gastric bypass farts.

For those of you considering weight loss surgeries, put farts in your "con" column for the bypass vs. the gastric banding (or vs. no surgery at all).

I'm not talking about a little fluff or two. I'm talking about what George Carlin calls farts that could "end a marriage".

After the bypass you can expect to create smells you didn't think a human behind was capable of producing.
Real paint peelers. The equivalent of boiled broccoli soaked in mustard and left on top of an old steam-heat radiator.

Ain't I attractive?
There's nothing more alluring than a flabby middle aged post-op woman talking about her bad, post-op, Thanksgiving gas.

It's gross but it's my reality.

I wish I could be funnier about it.

Ever notice how male comics get to talk about all their bodily emissions but the women sorta don't?
I think Whoopi Goldberg was the only woman I ever heard talking about her post-menopausal farts and how they stunk so much worse than her dainty farts from when she was in her 20's and 30's.

Otherwise, not a lot of fart talk from women.
No farts and no sh*t talk either.
Male comics?
There's plenty of farts, poop and ejaculations.
And they get laughs.

Women talking about the same thing?
We'd probably get an "eeewwwwww" and groans.

Even in comedy women are supposed to be demure and emission-less, as if our bodies don't leak any foul substances.

Are we afraid men will be grossed out by us if we talk about that aspect of our physical lives?
I wonder why men aren't afraid of grossing us out with their bodily secretions. They talk about their effluence like they're putting the grossest parts of themselves out in the open so women can momentarily turn away in disgust but forgive them and end up loving them anyway. We'll give them the ol' "aww come here ya big farter you!" and they'll get to feel loved and accepted, farts and all.

But women?
We don't want to put anything out there that might wreck our chances of getting male love and approval.
We don't want them to know we bleed, fart, sh*t, burp, lactate or pee.
We're just little pink powder puffs of sweet smelling delight.
We live on salad and air.
How phony.

Yet, I think we impose those double standards on ourselves.
I mean really, do I need to imagine Rita Rudner cutting a cabbage fart?

And God forbid I imagine my beautiful Shelby Chong emitting even a quick poof of intestinal smoke.
I feel like I impose
unrealistic, lady-like standards on women right along with the rest of our female fart-phobic society.

But if my Jimmy Norton talks about farts?
OH!
You'd think God himself had passed holy wind the way I laugh at/with him.


Men crack up over their own farts.
Can women ever do the same?

I'm not sure the double standard will ever change.
But if women's farts ever become funny, I'll have plenty of material.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
Post-op farts might entail a public health emergency...lol.
Ever fire off a "test fart"?
while in a store shopping on Black Friday??
God bless the sainted George Carlin.
click here or click below

recipe for compulsives only

“Only work which is the product of
inner compulsion can have
spiritual meaning.”
- Walter Groupius

I understand compulsive behavior.
Wait, let me rephrase that.
I experience compulsive behavior.

Do you know how many games of Scrabble I had to play (against the computer) just now before I could start writing?
I dunno, 10 or 12.

Compulsive behavior seems to be hard wired into me.
That's the bad news.

The good news is that certain behaviors can be thwarted, blocked, redirected.
Take the gastric bypass for instance.
The weight loss surgery keeps me from over-binge-ing.

Yesterday, I spent the day preparing for a glorious, low-fat feast here at my lil' apartment.
In the middle of preparing an oven stuffer chicken surrounded by turnips, carrots, celery and 12 grain stuffing, I craved a piece of carrot cake. I had to have CARROT CAKE!!

Now, as you may know if you've been reading this blog for a while, the bypass makes it very, very uncomfortable for me to eat fats. A piece of carrot cake would definitely make me feel terribly nauseated. Even just a few bites would make me feel sick for an hour or more.

But I wanted carrot cake.

I ran out to the store, hair askew, no makeup, no earrings, just wearing my gross cooking clothes and picked up a few items. I bought Betty Crocker carrot cake mix, egg beaters (they have zero fat), baby food strained carrots, sugar free vanilla pudding mix and fat free sour cream (in hindsight I should have gotten the fat free cream cheese but I was not thinking clearly).

Came home and baked a cake.
A sorta delicious carrot cake with vanilla pudding icing.

I substituted the baby food carrots for oil.
Used the egg beaters instead of whole eggs.
Beat the vanilla pudding mix with part soy milk and part fat free sour cream to fac-similate cream cheese icing, licked the bowl and baked the hell out of that f*cker.

The pre-gastric bypass Lisa would have devoured the entire cake by now.
As of this typing, I've only eaten a fifth of it.

So, yeah.
I'm still compulsive.
But at least my compulsion won't kill me.

Happy Thanksgiving!
I am grateful to you, my readers, for paying attention to me as I put myself back together after a lifetime of self-destructive, addictive behavior.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
She needs to know she's not alone (click here to leave her a comment).
I KNOW what she's going through.
The suicidal ideation, the severe binging, the hopelessness, the weight gain and the loneliness.
She says she wants to go skate, to go out and live, but she keeps trying to destroy herself with food.
God have mercy.
Readers please send some love and light to...I think her name is Esther.
click here or click below

wus in a name

"It is great for these young comedians
to have the restrictions pulled off.
They can talk about anything
- politics, sex, disease -
that is the way
comedy should be."
- Jim Norton

Me with my signature gastric bypass thinning hair.
Meh, hair can grow back...
I hope.

It's been 11 years since I had a boyfriend.
11 f*cking years.
And the one I had 11 years ago was a cheating ne'er do well who denied our relationship publicly so as to maximize his chances of hooking up with other women.
My self esteem took such a beating, it's no wonder I've stayed single for so long.

But "single" doesn't mean "inactive".
11 years of short term disappointments have provided me with LOTS of stories to tell.

I go over them in my head sometimes, debating whether or not to include them in this blog.
I usually don't.
They're a little too adult to put here,
which pisses me off.

It pisses me off that the career that brings in money (teaching) is incongruous with my most authentic voice.
Well, maybe not.
Maybe there's a way to do both.

I was thinking about my last name, Sargese.
No one knows how to pronounce it unless I say it for them.
SAR - JAYS.

SAR sounds like CAR as in that thing you drive
and JAYS like blue-jays.

Not a great stage name.
Not a great speaker name.
People hate ambiguity.
An unpronounceable name is off-putting to prospective venues.

I need a stage name.
If I can come up with a stage name I can come up with a persona to go with it
and SHE can say anything she wants.

I can't wait cuz man oh man, I got stories!

Now all I need is the new name...hmmm.

While I'm thinking up a new name I have potatoes on the stove almost ready to be mashed with some skim milk and cream of celery condensed soup (I just cannot digest butter and cream).
I'm making a great stuffing with 12 grain bread, celery, onions and maybe spinach.
The stuffing will go into a nice big Oven Stuffer chicken (I'm not a huge fan of turkey and neither are my guests) that will be surrounded by turnips, carrots, and celery.
And of course there will be a Pot o' Lisa including tofu, tomato puree, pearled barley and mixed vegetables.

The smell of cooking food is comforting.
I am thankful for my stove and oven full of nutritious food.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
The comedienne I was trying to think of yesterday is Elvira Kurt (thanks to Tina for reminding me!)
I adore her style.
I couldn't find a clip where she says my favorite line, but I found
this cool interview instead.
Words I needed to hear!
Thanks, Elvira.
click here or click below

just stories

What kind of dressing is that guy in the cartoon using, lard?
Cuz you can't get fat on green leafy vegetables.

Bosie the Zeek catting-up
my one square foot of counter space.

Christ have mercy.
I feel like I'm doing really well and really crappy, both at the same time.

The crappy part includes my cavities. For the first time in 44 years of life, I have painful cavities in my teeth (I've never had any fillings before in my life...ever!) I can't let any food touch the left side of my mouth, that's how badly it hurts. My teeth on the left side are extremely temperature sensitive. I can't chew anything. I'm living on room temperature soft foods till my dad takes me to the dentist (I feel like such a child).

I miss my apples.
I miss my raw peppers.
God only knows what I'll be able to tolerate for Thanksgiving.

I just ate a whole grain roll for breakfast.
Yuk.
I hate starting my day with carbs.

Money is tight.
From the 40 or so resumes I sent out I heard from one, count 'em one, company so far.
If I want Christmas money I'll need to get disciplined and sell a bunch of stuff on eBay.

My body feels like a sack.
I hate moving.
I hate feeling the flesh jiggling. My thighs rumble when I move. I take a step and they continue to reverberate like an old car engine that continues to rattle even after you've turned off the ignition.

But things aren't so bad either.
In my effort to be thankful I'm noticing all the wonderful things in my life as well.
In February, my article will finally come out in PLAYBOY!
Yep.
I heard from one of the editors.
It's official.

So, that means my colleague and I will finish the book (Halfway to Skinny) in time to have it published for the third week in January. Will we self-publish or publish it through the National Guild of Hypnotists (our accrediting organization)?

Not sure, but it gives me something to work for.

Wouldn't it be lovely, and I mean LOVELY, if I got my act together, got my press kit together, and started my public speaking career?

It really hit me as I was listening to comedian Jim Jeffries on Opie and Anthony (click here for the audio clip on YouTube).

In the story, he was talking about how his neighbors might wonder if he's a drug dealer or something since he answers the door at 3:00 in the afternoon in his underwear eating a bowl of cereal, never seems to go to work, yet he drives a nice car and lives comfortably.
Who lives like that except drug dealers, stand-up comedians (and writers)??

I was jealous.
Yep, I was envious of Jim Jeffries' lifestyle.
He's using his story telling talent to work a whopping one hour a night a few nights a week and he's making a living. He's internationally known, he's on TV in Britain, he was on HBO, Comedy Central, etc.
All he does is tell stories.
He brings "the funny" of course, but he's just a story teller on a mic.

WHAT THE HELL IS STOPPING ME???

Granted, I don't pretend that I'm as funny as Jeffries (or my beloved Jim Norton)
although my students tell me I should go into stand-up. But I know I've gotten GREAT reviews for my public speaking and my teaching style. Really great reviews. And laughs. On a good day I'll get the laughs.

So, yeah.
What am I waiting for??

I'm in the classic position to start a risky, self-controlled career.
Isn't this the class story?
Too poor to get my cavities filled, getting rejection letters from companies, driving a really old car, uncertain about my future, yet willing to step out and take a chance on the mic?
And on the page??

I know what I have to do.

To say 'it's now or never' would be terribly cliche...but it's true.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
You know that line I like to use
"...both at the same time..."
It actually comes from a stand-up comedian whose name I don't recall.
She did a One Night Stand that aired on Comedy Central where she imitates her disappointed immigrant mother telling someone that her daughter is "comedian ent lesbian...both at the same time".
Hilarious.
I was searching for her on YouTube and came across Amy Boyd instead.
Notice how she's just telling a story.
Just telling a story.
Hell, I can do that!!
Don't I do it every Wednesday night ;-)
click here or click below

rock in my shoe

They're bigger than Canada geese!
I saw these two wild turkeys on my way to school.

Hiding, hiding, hiding my neck.

My Hurley the Puff has a silent talk with the Buddha.

What's more important?
Happiness or the pursuit of happiness?

I'm afraid to be too happy.
If I start to appreciate everything just as it is, I might become complacent.
I may lose interest in change.
I'm afraid I'll forget about goals.
Improvement might seem unnecessary.

Peace of mind is nice, but I think dissatisfaction may be nicer.

Sounds nutty, doesn't it?
Well, in my defense, I am bat sh#t nuts.

Nutty or not,
I would rather be kinda dissatisfied.
I would rather be uncomfortable with the NOW of things.
The minute I get too comfortable, I stop caring. I stop wanting things to be better. I lose sight of my goals. Nothing matters anymore.

Wanting makes me want to work.
Appreciation, satisfaction?
They put me right to sleep.
No, really.
Sound asleep.

There's nothing less motivating than too much happiness.

I feel more alive when I'm full of angst.

How awful.
How un-Buddha-like.

Yet, hopeful.
I gives me hope that I can induce a state of motivated concern.

Look, I don't want to be utterly miserable.
I'm happy that my loved ones are alive and well.
I am deeply appreciative of my blessings.
I don't want to be living in a state of profound grief or acute suffering.

I just need a rock in my shoe.
A thorn in my side.
A bee in my bonnet.
A bug up my butt!

Although I love and appreciate all that I have, I want to love the possibilities too.
I want to be dissatisfied enough to get me going.
There's something to be said about a life of striving.

I guess I'd rather strive than thrive.

Remind me of that the next time I'm in pain, physically, emotionally, or spiritually.
Remind me to appreciate my problems.
Remind me to appreciate the rock in my shoe.

For now, I'm going to work on getting excited about things as they could be rather than what is.
Cuz, that's what gets me going.

Hmmm, can we be appreciative AND want to make things happen for the better?
I wonder.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
Sometimes forgetting to care means
you're free to have fun.
When's the last time we let the music tell us what to do?
When's the last time we danced without care?
Enjoy the twist with my buddy Darren, his cousins Debbie and Gary and some nice
folks from St. Matthew's in Edison courtesy of D and D Entertainment.
click here or click below

beautiful Shelby Chong

"Getting on stage
and finding out what people are like
helped me to overcome that.
I've learned not to read
other people's thoughts.
That's their movie,
not yours."
- Shelby Chong

"Sleep on your back,
stay out of the sun,
think young,
and think beautiful.
You are whatever you want
yourself
to be."
- Shelby Chong

"When I stopped acting
and started stand-up comedy.
It was then that I started
speaking in my own voice.
And I found that
the more honest you are about yourself,
the more the audience
responds."
- Shelby Chong

I feel like raw material.

So much of my flesh will need to be
surgically sliced off me.
I'm truly a diamond in the rough
needing to be faceted.

Do you see that blond bombshell on top of today's blog?
That's Tommy Chong's wife, Shelby.
I never even knew she existed till a week ago when my friends and I watched the documentary
a.k.a. Tommy Chong.

For anyone who treasures American freedom, watch the film. The way those self-aggrandizing federal a**holes arbitrarily arrested Mr. Chong for a whole lotta not-much will piss off any sane, reasonable person, regardless of their views on marijuana.
But my indignation over Chong's arrest was overshadowed by my captivation with his wife, Shelby.

Dear Lord the woman is beautiful.
Shapely, fit, glowing, and lovely, Shelby looks better than I do and I'm 16 years younger than she is!
She dances every day and it shows.
She drinks lots of water and she glows.
She gets Botox and glycolic peels and everybody knows...
cuz she's open about it.

Grow old gracefully? Nnnnnnnn nah.
Not Shelby.
She's what my mother's generation would call a "well preserved" older woman.
I'm in awe and envy of beautiful Shelby.

She's married to a wonderful, down to earth, funny man (I've loved Tommy Chong since I was 16 years old listening to "Dave's not here" and "Sgt Stedenko" on vinyl).
She's fabulously beautiful, stylish and graceful.
She does stand up comedy!

Now, if you've been reading this blog for a while you know that my dream is to be paid to hold a mic. I envision being an author and speaker with an edge. I'm not sure I'd really be called a "stand up" but stand-up has definitely influenced my teaching/speaking style.

In short, I'm inspired by her.

Shelby gives me great hope for what's possible in life.
She started stand-up fairly recently.
That means at 44 it's not too late for me!!
If she can start late, so can I.

Shelby is not ashamed to discuss her cosmetic surgery. She's in the limelight. She's a performer. She' knows that it helps to look a certain way when you're on stage and in the media.
I feel less ashamed of my desire for plastic surgery because of her.

Shelby is outspoken, quirky and confident.
I like that about her.
I would like that about me if I could muster it.

With the right inspiration and determination, I think I will muster it.

In the meantime I'll just have to work with what I've got.
Tis the week to be mindfully thankful.
I am thankful for my potential.
I am thankful that I've got a halfway decent foundation on which to build myself.
I am thankful for inspiration no matter from whence it comes.

Thank you, Shelby.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
WARNING: Adult content and adult language!
I couldn't find any of Shelby's solo stand up on YouTube, but here's a routine with Shelby and Tommy Chong pretending to watch midget porn.
If you're easily offended DO NOT WATCH.
If you have a sense of humor like mine, you'll laugh.
More importantly, check out what a woman can look like at 60 years old!!
Yep, she's 60. Tommy is around 70.
click here or click below

Thank Full

These wild turkeys are HUGE!
These big birds
stopped traffic to cross the street
on the border of
Clifton and Montclair Heights.
I had to hop out of my car
and snap a few pics.

Someday I'll look back on these pics
and say,
"Remember when I had fat turkey-neck
and frighteningly
thin hair?"

I'm considering starting a companion Blog just for the daily discipline of listing things that I'm thankful for.

If I don't learn to be thankful now, I may never learn.

You know what?
In life, things can always be worse and things can always be better.
Maybe the key to happiness is to be supremely happy with the now, the present, all the good and the bad of what IS.
And remembering that "good" and "bad" are subjective labels we apply to things that are inherently neutral in value... from an objective point of view.

Tis the season to be Thank Full.
Dear God, I am sooooo thankful that I have no anxiety about the Thanksgiving meal.
I will not be stuffing myself sick on stuffing or potatoes or dessert.
I fought hard to get this gastric bypass that will forever prevent me from eating myself sick on Thanksgiving.

Sick is no exaggeration.
Back in my heavy eating days my blood sugar would ascend to brain-fry levels.
I was literally killing myself with every bite.

I am so so grateful that I have physically prevented myself from ever doing that again by suffering through this surgery (and if you're new to this blog and you'd like to see what I mean by suffering, click here).

Back in my heavy eating days I would obsess about food, dread the abundance of the Thanksgiving table, succumb to eating way too much then pass out from guilt and over eating.

I've traded up.
Now I obsess about my appearance, dread the abundance of my own flesh, succumb to bad body thoughts, then avoid too much social interaction where I might feel judged. Bleh.

Ah well.
Like I said, things can always get better.

At least I'm not endangering my physical health any longer.
I'm not in danger of having a stroke or going blind or losing limbs to diabetes.

My head is a bit easier to manage than my eating disorder.

And I will manage it.

Blogging helps.
The support group, Eating and Body Image, will help (I'm resurrecting it for the Spring semester).

Hearing from others who are struggling with similar issues helps.

Learning to be grateful gets me closer to being at peace with myself.

Finding a recipe for low fat, low carb stuffing?
I'll be very grateful for that!

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
I'll be using fresh rather than frozen or canned veggies, but otherwise, this
is an adorable, practical way to health-en up the Thanksgiving feast!
Love the Pom in the Pilgrim hat!
click here or click below

reside in gratitude

I changed my blog title back to
The Skinny Online
in anticipation of
the PLAYBOY article
that will probably refer to that title.

"The hardest arithmetic
to master
is that which enables us
to count
our
blessings."
- Eric Hoffer

Wanna know what an emotionally spoiled sh*t I am?
In my selfish, whiny rant yesterday about my students' behavior, I neglected to mention that I had 3, yes THREE, guests in my class this past Wednesday.

A current student brought a friend of his to class.
A former student also attended with his roommate, a burgeoning motivational speaker.

Three people who could have chosen to do ANYTHING with their time, chose to spend their evening in my classroom.

A high compliment??
You better believe it.

So, what did I focus on yesterday?
Negative stuff that disempowers me and overlooks my students' inherent goodness.

Yeah, I'm feeling like a total sh*t.

But, rather than beat myself up...any further...
I'm going to do the tough arithmetic and
COUNT MY BLESSINGS!!

It is a profound blessing to have options.
Christmas is coming.
I have no extra money.
But you know what I do have?
Tons of stuff I can sell on eBay.

My parents garage and attic are full of all my To-Be-Sold crap.
My bedroom door still has "fat clothes" hanging there waiting to be sold.

Grateful.
I am grateful to have options.

I have a test from Kaplan, kinda like a PSAT, that if I score in the top 5%, I will be invited in for an interview to become one of their well paid tutors.

Grateful.
I am grateful to have opportunities.

My mother is about to pull up outside my apartment to take me shopping and to lunch.

Grateful.
I am grateful to have living parents who love me and support me while I "find myself".

I suspect that gratitude is a habit that must be developed.
If my "default" setting is to find fault with myself and others, I will always be in a state of lack.
If I consciously focus on my blessings, perhaps I can create a state of grateful abundance.

What resides in a state of grateful abundance?
Citizens of gratitude and plenty.

I think it's time to change my residency.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
NITE is a way to address people so they will GET your communication.
E + E = E is an equation for success.
My buddy Coach Darren Ventre addresses students at Yogi Berra Museum at Montclair State University as part of The Institute for Coaching with Coach John McCarthy.
Darren reminded me NOT to take things so personally!!
We keep each other focused on what's "good".
Enjoy this video of my charismatic friend.
click here or click below

hecklers and talkers

“I'm tough,
ambitious,
and I know exactly what I want.
If that makes me a bitch,
okay.”
- Madonna

“A lot of people are afraid
to say what they want.
That's why they don't get
what they want.”
- Madonna

Bosie the Zeek gaily licking
his baby brother,
Xander,
with his giant spur-loop
tongue!

I have trouble asking for what I want.
I have difficulty asserting myself in the world.
Teaching, speaking and performing come pretty naturally to me.
But...
dealing with talkers or hecklers fills me with dread.
Having to go SSHHHH or discipline my students in the classroom is a nightmare for me.

I take their misbehavior very personally and I let it destroy me inside.
Kids will be kids, I know.
They bring their laptops to class, supposedly for the purpose of taking notes, but I catch them IMing. I try to make light of it, calling them out, hoping they'll never do it again, but they do.

Sometimes they'll bring books from their other classes and actually do work for another class while I''m lecturing. Again, I'm so hurt by that. It hurts when I have to call them on that. They should just know better. Do they really think I can't see them?

And every semester, I get the symbionts. Either two girls or two boys who sit head to head and have to giggle and comment on every other thing I say. No matter how many times I shush them, they persist.

I actually have nightmares about it. In my dream I'll be asking them to please be quiet and they just ignore me. The typical ineffectual teacher nightmare dream.

This is a symptom of my weak self-esteem. I feel like if I were good-enough they'd just naturally be quiet and attentive. If I were entertaining enough, they would pay more attention. If I were a better professor they would respect me by doing the right thing.

I put it all on myself rather than fault them for acting rudely.

One voice in my head is telling me that they do that to all their professors and I shouldn't take it personally.

The other voice in my head tells me I'm just awful and unlikable so they don't feel they have to respect me.

This head trip has been happening every since I started teaching 7 years ago.
I've always wished I could be a better disciplinarian.
I've always wished I could be quick witted and sharp with a comeback the way a smart comic might silence a heckler.

I get so angry over this perceived slight, so full of rage, so driven by ego, that I forget about the rest of the kids, the majority who are attentive, appreciative, interested and engaged.

But then again the talkers and misbehavers are like the classroom bullies. They not only disrespect me they disrespect their classmates. Maybe it's for the majority's sake that I have to do something about the distracting, rudely-behaving minority.

Yuk.

Yuk, because I wish I didn't have to be a disciplinarian.
Yuk, that it's a chronic problem that the universe keeps throwing at me.
Yuk, that I have to work out this karmic problem or else it will persist.

Yuk.
Yuk.
Yuk.

It's an obstacle I'll have to overcome or I'll never feel confident enough to pick up a mic and be a good speaker.
Yeah, I've already picked up a mic and spoken publicly, to tough rooms, too!
Still,
I want to learn to toughen up.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
I know better than to get angry, but what else works
when you get classroom talkers?
click here or click below

health at every phase

"Militancy in extremes
can flip upon itself,
thus turning feminism into sexism,
unconditional love to an expectation
of unconditional attraction,
and empowerment
into
victim
mentality."
-99ppp


"We see very few fat people
in film and television
because the implicit assumption
is that we are suffering from a willful,
self-imposed sickness,
as evidenced by our
very
appearance."
- Lynne Murray

I resist being too closely aligned with the Fat/Size Acceptance movement because I don't feel like being angry all the time. Not only is there plenty of fat-bashing in the media, whatever I focus on will show up even more. If I focus on media's injustice (or cruel humor) toward women of size it will start to show up everywhere for me and I'll be stuck in a state of perpetual pissed-off-ness.

My favorite forms of entertainment tend to be really hard on overweight women. If I boycotted everything that portrayed heavy women in a negative light, I'd have nothing left to enjoy.
No more Family Guy.
No more stand-up.
No more Comedy Central.
Hell, I'd have to turn off the tv altogether!

"Watching television
is like taking black spray paint
to your third eye."
- Bill Hicks

(They say Russel Crowe may play the Reverend Hicks in an upcoming film but I'd prefer to see Kevin Spacey).

Anyway, back to Fat Advocacy.
I'll need to water it down a bit to prevent chronic anger on my part.
I'll call it loving-where-you're-at.

Sure, Susan Powter can rant all she wants about how a "fat" person cannot possibly be healthy.
I understand what she's saying. When we are at our MOST healthy, optimally healthy, at an A+ level of health, we will be at a weight that best allows for that health to manifest. Chances are, we will not be terribly overweight.

BUT ...and everyone loves a big BUTT...
I am currently fat
and
I am MUCH healthier than I was a few years ago.

My blood sugar is under better control,
I can breathe more easily,
I eat healthy foods,
I'm more mobile,
blood pressure, oxygen levels, skin quality, energy levels
are all much improved.

Are they where I want them to be?
No.
Will weight loss be part of how I improve my health?
Yes.
Is it a priority right this second?
No.

Shrinking myself is not high on my priority list right now.
There are more pressing health issues.
I need to deal with my anemia.
I need to deal with my fatigue.
I need to deal with absorption of nutrients.
I need to banish stress and improve the quality of my sleep.
I need to get moving to get more oxygen.

Can I do all these things and still be fat?
Of course!
Can I do all these things and remain very fat?
Probably not.
My body will find it's healthy weight if I take care of my health in general.

I believe a person can be healthy and be fat.
I do not believe a person can be their HEALTHIEST and be very fat.
But the notion of "healthiest" is perfectionistic.
We don't have to be our healthiest in order to consider ourselves healthy.

You should not feel like crap because there happens to be room for improvement in your health or in any area of you life for that matter.

We are all becoming.
We are blossoming.
It would be a shame to say that there is only one day that a rose is pretty, only one day that it reaches the zenith of its bloom and finally reaches pretty-ness.

Roses go through many phases of beauty.
Rose buds are beautiful.
Rose blossoms are beautiful.
Dead rose petals?
Yep.
Check your potpourri.
Look at dried flower arrangements.
There is beauty every step of the way for the rose.

I refuse to postpone health because I'm not at my ultimate bloom.
Even if there's room to be more healthy, one can still regard themselves as healthy in the here and
now
now
now.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
"Being a BBW is not a death sentence..."
Hey, I don't know about changing societal attitudes,
but I would like to change my own.
Or do the two go hand in hand?
Thanks, ProjectLifeSize!
click here or click below

not alone

I must be getting better.
This is the pic from this batch where
I look the fattest.
And here it is for public view!

Here is a pic of other-Lisa,
author of the blog,
Gastric Bypass Truth:
The Skinny On Life After Weight Loss Surgery
(click here).

Lisa from Gastric Bypass Truth!

The other-Lisa blogged a really great list called,"What I Wish I Had Known" before gastric bypass surgery (click here for the full blog).

I picked a few of my favorites from her list.
I'll put them in italics and comment on them below.

• I wish I had realized that my life would still revolve around food - or at least, what I ingest. Instead of being able to forget all about eating, my day consists of counting fluid ounces, protein grams and supplements.

My lack of energy and wonky immune system will not magically get better just because I want them to. I'm going to have to intentionally, consciously nourish myself better.
I feel like crap.
I'm attributing my low-energy to my need for nutrients.
I do take supplements.
I know they're not enough. I need actual, living nutrition!

Until I get more income, I can't afford the fresh vegetables for my juicer. I can afford to EAT the vegetables. I have a nice big pot of brown rice, spinach, peppers and chicken on the stove right now. But, the amount of vegetables needed to make just one glass of good, fresh juice is more than I can afford.

Nourishing myself is something I am working on. I'm tired of being tired.

• I wish I had realized that gastric bypass surgery - and the ensuing weight loss - will not make all my problems go away. That I would still face issues even though I weighed less.

Tell me about it! I'm with ya, other-Lisa. Looking back, it seems like my compulsive overeating and preoccupation with complications to morbid obesity were distractions from the real life issues. As long as I had my face-stuffing habit and my sicknesses, I could postpone working on my life, my career, my karma, my relationships...you name it.
Now that I'm just plain fat,
as opposed to lethally morbidly obese,
I can get my life in order.
But getting my life in order has been hard.
No lie.

• I really wish I could have seen how the sagging skin and remaining fat would look, and how self-conscious it would make me continue to feel.

Yeah, instead of being self-conscious for being circus-fat, I'm now self conscious about my saggy front butt, my sloppy flesh and my need to yank this Halfway to Skinny body of mine into some kind of shape. I'm still suffering under the delusion that I need to do something about how I look before I can truly live.

• I wish I had known how easy it is to become obsessed with how I look, and how I would have to watch myself to make sure all my conversations didn’t revolve around me, my weight loss or my wrinkled skin.

That's why I blog. I get to purge my feelings about
my body image,
my relationship with food,
my appearance,
my wish for plastic surgery and whatever else I care to indulge in.
Luckily for us, we are not doing this alone! Other folks are working to get well too. We can help each other get free from our bad body thoughts so we can go out in the world and be ourselves! Or that's the hope anyway.

• I wish I had known that after 6-9 months the old demons of cravings and head hunger would rear their ugly heads and that eating right would not be easy or automatic.

Yeah, me too. Right after the surgery, eating made me sick. For about a year and a half after the surgery I did not experience actual hunger. It was nice to have to remember to eat rather than shovel food into my constantly angry furnace of a stomach. But my little furnace is getting angry again. There are a few ways I can deal with it. One of which is to have a surgical revision to the bypass to tighten up my pouch. That could buy me another year or so of no-hunger. What I'm more interested in doing is to nourish myself well so that I'm not in a constant state of hunger. I also wish to clean out my gut from the yeasts, parasites and toxins that cause cravings.

It ain't easy, but what is?
I don't expect my life to be easy.
No one's life is easy.
We all have our struggles.
We all have our karma to work out.

Other-Lisa, the other bloggers and I are working on ourselves.
Fortunately, the fabulous inter-web makes our blogs accessible to others who may be having similar struggles.

We find each other and hopefully we can help each other out.

It's always nice to know I'm not alone.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
She's right.
Maybe we should lose weight?
Why doesn't anyone suggest that we get busy preventing disease, curing hunger, working for justice??
Maybe we should take care of our health and then go out and make a difference in the world.
I love when teens make these great body-image videos!
Thanks, timelytelevision!
click here or click below

Devlish Dogs

"So, embrace your freakish eating,
join me in my quest
to maintain a normal body weight
- or better.
We're all disordered eaters.
We really are,
regardless of why/how,
because -
What Is Normal?"
- Melting Mama blogger

"It is essential to remember
that scolding and weight gain
go hand in hand.
If you let go of the rules
and
do not yell at yourself
about food,
you will eat less compulsively.
Giving up diets
is
liberating."
- Overcoming Overeating page 81

What's blocked me from embracing (or re-embracing) the Overcoming Overeating approach, specifically the legalization of all foods, is that I do not regard all foods as equal. Hirschmann and Munter recommend "removing all taboos, restrictions, and external controls with regard to eating." No foods should be forbidden.

I can't do it.
I know - or believe, if you want to regard belief as a way of knowing - that refined white flour and refined white sugar are bad.
They're just bad.
High fructose corn syrup?
Bad. Call them forbidden. Call them poor choices.
They make me feel like crap.
They compromise my immune system.
They wreak havoc on my blood sugar.

I can't put Dollar Store pretzels on par with Wasa crackers.
I can't put canned vegetables on the same level as fresh produce.
I'm unwilling to put Devil Dogs on the same value plane as Stonyfield Farm Chocolate Underground Yogurt.

Stupidly, I figured I'd have to throw away the Overcoming Overeating approach because I'm unwilling to legalize all foods.

But...and everyone LOVES a big BUTT...
maybe I've reached this point because I HAVE legalized all foods.

Hmmm.

Let me ask myself if I truly want a Devil Dog.
Well, yeah, the taste is unbeatable.
I f*cking LOVE Devil Dogs.

Now let me imagine that I had one in front of me right now.
Would I want it?
Yes.
Would I eat it?
No.

But NOT because I'm "not allowed" to eat it. I actually CHOOSE not to eat it.
It will make me sick. I choose not to feel nauseated.
So, maybe I am embracing the OO approach.

I COULD eat teh Devil Dog if I wanted it.
I'm not forbidding myself the Devil Dogs.
I just choose to eat something else.
I can get my chocolate another way. I prefer to eat chocolate without having to feel sick to my stomach for an hour after eating it.

Hirschmann and Munter point out that the question
"Do I want it?"
is dramatically different from
"May I have it?"

Resisting certain foods will ALWAYS make me want more of it.
(Conversely, if you tell me I MUST have something, I will probably resist eating it.)

I don't resist Devil Dogs.
I truly choose to avoid them.

Maybe I've legalized foods so well, I didn't even notice myself doing it.
It happened very naturally.

What do ya know?
I actually WANT foods that are physically better for me.

That's a pretty big change.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
Great video.
Great song (K. O.'s 'Crucial').
Great quotes.
Thanks, Amber Dawn!
click here or click below

Functional Rebellion

"Curing compulsive eating
requires much more than
pulling yourself up
by your bootstraps.
Compulsive eating is a serious,
very real problem
that cannot be resolved
through
willpower.
If willpower were the answer
to compulsive eating,
diets would work...

"...Compulsive eaters have
plenty of willpower.
What they lack is self-esteem
and the ability to calm themselves down.
In fact, self-loathing
that motivates
the game is
precisely what exacerbates
the problem of
compulsive eating."
- Overcoming Overeating page 41

"..we consider your eating in response
to the restraints of a diet a
fight-back response indicative
of your strength of character.
You resist even your own attempts
to deprive yourself
of what you
need."
- Overcoming Overeating page 43

Until we address our "rebellion" response to dieting and weight loss, folks who have had weight loss surgery will continue to regain their weight.

There, I've said it.

I've taken a stand on something, a hard stance.

Why do post-ops 'refuse' to follow the post-op rules?
Cuz we're not rule followers.
If we were rule followers, we would just go on a diet and lose weight.
We would not have had weight loss surgery in an attempt to shrink ourselves.

A good question to ask would be 'Why get weight loss surgery at all if you're not going to follow the program after the surgery?'

Very good question.

I can speak for myself.
I needed IMMEDIATE relief from the co-morbidities of morbid obesity.
My diabetes was going to kill me. Blood sugars in the 600s and 700s would have killed me by now had I not taken a drastic measure to help myself via surgery.

The gastric bypass was a quick, temporary fix to get me started on eating disorder recovery.
My situation was desperate. I took desperate measures to help myself.
The surgery is yet another example of how I IN FACT DO HAVE WILLPOWER!

If you're reading this blog, you probably have gobs and gobs of willpower. You have a hunch that the conventional approaches to losing weight have an inherent flaw. You maybe saw weight loss surgery as a last resort, but when even THAT didn't work (see how most post-ops regain their weight), you started looking again.

There is an answer.
Hirschmann and Munter have come the closest to giving me the answer I need.
Susan Powter, too.

Now if we can just COMBINE those two approaches...

Hmmm, maybe that's my job.
Combine the best of the Overcoming Overeating approach with Susan Powter's Food approach and voila!
A permanent cure!

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
"All behavior starts out functional..."
Yep.
Our attempts at self-care need to be honored if they are going
to be made more effective.
Using food to cope is functional.
When that habit no longer serves our purpose of self-caring, then we
can choose to change.
Thanks, Katie Evans!
click here or click below

an other Lisa

toothpastefordinner

I finally changed the name of my blog. The title of the upcoming book will most likely be 'Halfway to Skinny'. I figured the blog should reflect that. I also found a blog very similar to mine and I wanted to differentiate mine.

There's another Lisa with a The Skinny On Life After Weight Loss Surgery blog (click here). Remember the other day when I posted that video of a woman showing us how to give ourselves a scalp massage to encourage hair growth? That's her. That's other-Lisa.

Her blog is great.
I recommend it highly especially
her post about what she wishes she knew before the surgery (click here).

She's really being honest about her life and I admire her for that.
The other Lisa and I have lots in common.

But...and everyone loves a big BUTT...
I want to reply to a post of hers called:
"How Gastric Bypass Patients Can Lose 35% More Weight"
(click here).

I still love her blog. I still think she's awesome. I just need to disagree with her a bit.

Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to reprint some of what other-Lisa wrote and respond to it. I'll put what she wrote in italics...

You have gastric bypass surgery, for the most part, because you want to lose a whole lot of weight. Sure, there are benefits beyond weight loss. But let’s face it: the number one reason for rearranging your insides is to dump as much fat as possible.

Yes.
I would list 'losing weight' as my number one reason for having the bypass.
But...and I cannot stress this enough...the number two reason was because I wanted to stop my eating disordered behavior. Eating to the point of physical pain on a daily basis was killing me spiritually, putting a strain on my heart, destroying my self-esteem and damaging my overall health in MORE ways than just making me morbidly obese.

I constantly see people - both in my everyday life and online in various weight loss surgery chatrooms - who just simply refuse to do it. Then they whine and complain because they’re not losing weight as fast as others they see.
What is this simple, common-sense thing you can do that will bring such great rewards?
Listen to your doctor.

I love my surgeon.
He's so awesome.
He was the 6th doctor I saw when I was looking for a gastric bypass surgeon who could take down the old, adhesion ridden, gastric band.
He took my difficult case when no one else would (or could).
He is an expert surgeon.
However...
He is NOT a shrink,
nor is he a nutritionist,
nor is he an expert at eating disorder recovery.
Learning to listen TO MYSELF has been more important to my overall healing than listening to someone who is an expert at surgery.

I have never understood why anyone would put themselves through all the trouble of having gastric bypass surgery, then stubbornly refuse to do the simple things their doc says will make them successful.

Well, other-Lisa there are many reasons for this ranging from self-sabotage to eating disordered behavior to resistance to being controlled by someone who does not understand us. If you do any research on eating disorders, one of the prime motivators in binge eating or starvation is to maintain some control over ourselves.

We resist being controlled by others. We resist obeying 'rules' that we feel don't address our deepest emotional needs. We may not even be rebelling consciously, but we stubbornly refuse to be controlled out of a sense of self preservation...even if it kills us.

Drinking with meals.
When you drink liquids at the same time as you eat, the food washes out of your pouch sooner. You eat more. Which kinda defeats the purpose of the smaller stomach. Yet I constantly see people whining on message boards that it’s just too hard to not have some tea with your chicken. You know what? Get over it! This is one of the simplest things to do.

Maybe that's how my "pouch" (I hate the word 'pouch' and pefer to call it my stomach)
got so stretched out. I drink with meals. I don't salivate properly. My food gets stuck in my gullet. It needs to be washed down. Yes, this means I can eat more. No whining on my part, just taking responsibility for myself when it comes to drinking with meals.

But guess what. Non-gastric bypass folks and non-eating disordered folks drink with their meals. Why are they not morbidly obese?

I'll tell you why.
They're not binge-eating crappy foods while they drink, that's why.
If we're eating good, whole, high fiber, low fat, fresh foods, it won't matter if we drink with our meals. Eating too much won't really be a concern.

If we heal our eating disorders, it won't matter whether or not we drink with our food.

Drinking carbonated beverages.
My psychologist told me in my pre-op interview that every single person she’d ever seen gain their weight back had gone back to drinking carbonated beverages.The carbonation continues to bubble inside your pouch. It can stretch it. It can stretch the opening into your intestine. Which means you can eat more, you get hungry sooner. YOU GET FAT AGAIN. It doesn’t matter if your Coke is diet or not. It’s not the sugar or the calories - it’s the bubbles. Drink them and you fail. It’s that simple.

Oh, now, nothing is ever that simple.
I drink carbonated beverages.
I have not gained back any weight and I'm two years plus out from my surgery.
Hey, I'm not advocating for soda drinking. Soda is evil. It rots tooth enamel. It leaches calcium from our bones. It's full of chemicals. It's not great for digestion. It's bad for everyone, not just gastric bypass patients.

But once in a while, I enjoy it. So, I drink it. I'll let you know if I start gaining weight.

Eating crap.
Just because you’re more than a year out and your pouch will tolerate pasta, bread and other carbs, doesn’t make them OK. Personally, when my pouch feels pissy absolutely nothing calms it down better than cheese-its. But if I ate cheese-it’s all the time, I wouldn’t keep losing weight, now would I?Your new life has to be about moderation, restraint, and wise choices. Except for carbonated beverages, it’s unrealistic to say that any particular food will never cross your lips again. But any time bad stuff happens more often than “once in a blue moon” you’re headed for trouble.

Mmm, I'll have to disagree. I'm over 2 years out and I still dump (get horribly nauseated) if I try to eat certain things. This may not be true for everyone. A certain gastric bypass blogger talks about her penchant for bacon. I'll never eat bacon again. The nausea is just not worth it. That goes for KFC, fast food burgers, most bakery products....the list is too long to go into, but the point is, I will never be eating those things again.

Listen to your doctor. Do what he says. Go to your support group meetings so you always have those recommendations fresh in your mind.

I really hated the support group meetings. All the women did was talk about food. They did NOT want to discuss having an eating disorder. It seemed like just a meet up to complain and talk about protein shakes. Some groups may be better than others. I do not feel compelled to attend the one offered to me.

Of course I've ranted before about how protein shakes make me feel sick to my stomach. I simply will not drink them.
Force feeding myself vitamins all day is just more disordered eating behavior so I refuse to do it.
Pill taking happens twice a day for me. That's it.

And, just so we're clear,
I will be the first to admit that I am an arrogant asshole who thinks she knows better than the rest of the world about how to manage my own body.

So, what's my plan?

I want to solve the problem once and for all.
Fat is not the problem, though it's a symptom, a big bad dangerous symptom...for me.

Disordered eating is my problem.

I know in my heart, in my cells, in my blood
that there is a once and for all cure for my binge eating disorder.
The cure is multi-faceted. It involves recovery in many different areas.

My latest attack is on my gunked up gut.
Even before the bypass, I was not absorbing nutrients properly.
Now, post-op, my malabsorption of nutrients is nearly lethal.

One of the things our VERY SMART bodies tell us to do when we're malnourished is to eat.
How else would be get nutrients into our bodies?
When we don't absorb nutrients our bodies go into FEED ME mode.
We crave.
We devour.
We're always hungry.
Desperate for nutrition our bodies signal us to eat more and more. We absorb the calories but not the nutrients. We get really, really fat.

One of the ways to overcome overeating for good is to nourish ourselves.
I'm working on that right this second as I cook up a nice pot of tofu, brown rice and vegetables.

Like the asshole that I am, I'll probably be drinking some Coke Zero with my dinner.

Let's hope it doesn't cause me to fail.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
It's important to know why we do what we do.
It's important to express our emotions.
Journaling helps.
Blogging too.
All this blogging is part of my recovery.
Thanks for agreeing, Kristin!!
click here or click below

paste in the gut?

"About half of adults who have celiac disease
do not have diarrhea.
Instead, they become anemic,
the second most common symptom in adults,
followed by other deficiencies,
including that of folate,
calcium and other vital nutrients.
Sometimes the only symptom is recurrent mouth sores...
There are people for whom
even a tiny amount of gluten will cause extreme symptoms.
Yet some can go a lifetime with it
and not have any diagnosed problems
other than a little gastrointestinal distress
from overdoing it on the pasta."
- Glut in the Gut: Psoriasis.org forum

I feel so much better.
I cut waaayyyy back on the gluten yesterday.
For supper, I made a giant pot of cauliflower, chick peas and lentils with tomato.
For dessert I had Stonyfield Farm Chocolate Underground yogurt and some Cinnamon Life cereal (some gluten in the cereal).

My nose isn't as runny.
I have more energy.
Waking up super early for an 8:00am appointment was not that painful.
My joints don't ache.

Remember back in grammar school?
What did we use to make paper mache?
I think it was flour and water.

Use a simple mixture of flour and water. Mix one part flour with about 2 parts of water until you get a consistancy like thick glue. Add more water or flour as necessary. Mix well to get out all the bumps. Add a few tablespoons of salt to help prevent mold!
- Answers.com

Great.
Now we can make a sculpture!
We can construct something that we can actually paint!
It lasts for years.

So, why would we think anything different would happen in our intestines?
Our nation lives on pizza, fast food and deli sandwiches.
Bagels for breakfast.
Pretzels and salty snacks.

We're a nation of celiacs walking around with paper mache in our guts.
Our food choices are clogging up our guts, making absorption of nutrients impossible.
Our hair falls out.
Our guts pop out like beer bellies.
We're tired and depressed all the time.
We get sick.

Glue gut.
I'd say I'm onto something.
I'd write a book about it, but this is not news.
This information is all over natural, nutritional healing circuits.
The internet is flooded with information on leaky gut, celiac, whole foods vs processed foods and candida albicans.

Yet we're a sick, sad nation.

No wonder folks who clean out their guts and change their eating get so militant about it. They've discovered something powerful.

Avoiding white flour, white sugar, corn syrup, gluten and processed crap?
It takes discipline.
It takes planning.
You'll need to detox.

Society is not set up to support that.
This morning I'll be at a conference down in Madison, NJ.
For sure they'll have a continental breakfast.
Folks who rushed to get there will be hungry.
They may not have had time to eat something "good" before they left the house.
Free coffee and pastries? Muffins? Bagels?
Of course!

We'll probably get lunch today, too.
What's the easiest thing to serve?
Sandwiches.
And NO, whole wheat bread is not gluten free. You need to shop at Whole Foods, Kings or Trader Joe's to get REAL whole wheat OR gluten free bread.

It's socially acceptable, if not expected, that we eat certain things. Crappy things. Things that are killing us.

It's a conspiracy I tell ya!

Nah, it's just convenience dictating to us.
Convenience over health.

Dammit.

We need a change!!

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
"A healthy life without the use of medications..."
We have not evolved to be allergic to foods that grow from the earth.
We CREATE food allergies with our unhealthy guts.
Paper mache intestines!
click here or click below

atrophy in the gut

Looking at this pic of myself could have been traumatizing but my shawl is masking me in such a way as to make me look smaller.

sigh

I'm spacey and light headed.
Everything hurts.
I'm popping Ibuprofen like Pez.

Stress?
Maybe.

Anemia?
Probably.

Poor diet?
I'd bet my life on it.

I haven't been eating well for the past week.
Lots of cheap food, white flour, gluten.

Not only do I feel weak and like crap overall,
my joints hurt.

This armchair diagnosis (gluten allergy) will be confirmed after pay day (tomorrow)
when I grocery shop.

Could food really be that much of a determinant in how our bodies feel?

And if so, why does the medical community all but ignore it??

We may be a nation of folks with celiac disease.
Gluten is in EVERYTHING.

Gluten and corn syrup.
We're a nation of depressed, cramped up, achy, spacey, obese, malnourished celiac victims.

I'm convinced of it.

No wonder people who eat well - fresh, whole foods - look so bright eyed and have so much energy!
The rest of us are malnourished!

No wonder young people look so much better than older people in this country.
It's not that they're thin or more fashionable.
They're healthier.
They glow!
They haven't suffered malnourishment yet.
Their intestines still function.

But slowly, surely, the American crap diet extinguishes the light from our eyes.

F*ck!

I feel so weak and miserable, but I'm going to make myself something good to eat.
I know it will make me feel better.

Lentils and vegetables.
No pasta.
No flour.
No gluten
and no corn syrup!

I want my glow back.


*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
Guess what.
If you don't absorb nutrients, you will crave more food
and you will get fat.
Celiac causes cravings AND obesity as well as loss of appetite.
Symptoms manifest differently.
Dammit.
It's all about food.
Forget about calling it a disease.
I don't believe ANYONE should be eating too much gluten.
click here or click below

Picture therapy

Me with my beauties, Kelly and Ploy!
We rocked Cuban Pete's that night :-)

"Men know they are sexual exiles.
They wander the earth
seeking satisfaction,
craving and despising,
never content.
There is nothing
in that anguished motion
for women to envy."
- Camille Paglia

This is me in front
of my refrigerator
trying to create
the illusion of a waist
with my hand.

This is where I prepare my food
in my kitchen
that needs
to be
painted.

I'm getting better, slowly, but steadily.
There was a time when I would be traumatized by pictures of myself.
Even on this blog, you can see that I favor photos of myself from the neck up.
Looking at my body is difficult.

When I look at myself words like:
barrel,
whale,
yam,
car cover
and sofa
come to mind.

BUT...and everyone loves a big BUTT...
I'm getting better.

I am learning to look at myself and name what I see with less judgment.
I am round.
My shape is round.
I'm moving closer to a "So, what?" feeling about my roundness.

My brain is learning to say things like
'round, but not so bad',
'big, put kinda pretty',
'lots of flesh and it must feel great to hug me',
'I'll take care of you'.

All last night, I told myself not to worry.
I assured myself that I'd take care of me.
I asked God to help me do the right thing.
I made whole wheat pasta with tomato and basil, ate fresh yellow peppers and made a pan of tamari almonds for myself.

Yes, food is a BIG part of how I take care of myself.
Food,
thinking
and now for the big bad third in the trinity: movement.

Being able to feel OK in my big sofa-body helps me to want to move it.
If I feel like crap about how I look, then I don't want to feel myself moving and jiggling.
I avoid movement.
It hurts too much emotionally to acknowledge my own size.

But when I'm feeling more forgiving,
more kind,
I feel like moving around.
The jiggling and largeness don't feel so bad.
They're just what-is about my body.
No biggie...well, yes biggie, but not in a bad way.

Being OK with how I look
helps me to be OK about how I feel.
I call it, Picture Therapy.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
WARNING: Adult language.
I chose this one because, well, it's Jimmy, but mainly
because he's just like me.
He can't look at himself.
All kinds of negative adjectives and reptilian nouns pop into
his amphibious kitten head when he sees himself.
I understand.
click here or click below

part timer?

"What kind of arrogant idiot
tries to dictate
what the appropriate line
is for anyone
other than himself? ...
Being mean and edgy
normally implies
that you've stepped over
certain boundaries..."
- Jim Norton

I applied for a bunch of part time jobs.
It felt like the right thing to do.

Yeah, I could really use a big salary and benefits from full time work, but at what price?
That's not my dream.
Working some corporate job, being well-paid and secure
and INSURED is practical
but
it
is
not my
deep down
dream.

Is this sour grapes because I didn't get the job I thought I wanted?
Mmmm...yes and no.

Not getting that 'dream' job I thought I wanted helped me to put things into perspective.
It set me free to ask:
What do I really want to do?

Same thing I've said all along in this blog.
Worshoppy public speaky
author
self-help guru
performer
healer.

Rock star.

That's what I really want.
I want to write and speak for a living.

So, working a couple of part time jobs will give me the freedom to work on that.

That's what I'm going to try.

My wrist actually hurts from searching CareerBuilder, Monster, American Jobs and HigherEdJobs dot com. I've sent about 100 (or 50) resumes over the past few days.

I prayed on it.
I asked the universe to send me the best thing
and to give me the wisdom to choose the best thing.

I sent out bright golden light to the world and asked for my talents to be utilized, appreciated and received by those in need.

I took deep breaths and imagined an income that sustains me.

Now, I'm waiting for the phone to ring.

In the meantime, I need to write more, write better and be confident in what I have to say to the world.

My health could use some attention as well.
No one wants to listen to a sickly speaker.

If I'm going to speak about wellness inside and out,
I'll have to start with me.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
She reminds me of Charlize Theron.
Listen to Gini Maddocks, licensed medical massage therapist,
stress management consultant
and self-care author.
Ooo, that chin tuck really works!
click here or click below

will and power

Me and my Dad on his 79th birthday!

How awful is it that
all I can do is
look at myself
and think
"beefy"?

My Uncle Vinny paid me a wonderful compliment.
He paid me a few compliments.
First, he told me how proud he was of how great I looked.
He told me how wonderful it was to see me looking so healthy and getting around so well.

I deflected his compliments.
"No, I'm old, look at the creases in my face, bleh, I need a face lift!"
He ignored my protests.

Then he praised me for my willpower.
I asked him what he meant.
He said I was sitting at the table with temptation right in front of me.

Temptation?
He said he was referring to the large platter of cold cuts that was right under my nose.
Oh.
I didn't want to accept the praise.
I told him that the cold cuts were not a temptation. I had eaten my little dish of roast beef, tomato and cucumbers and I was fine. I didn't want seconds.

I meant it.
I was full.

He said he admired me because the tray of cold cuts WAS a temptation to him as he popped a nice piece of salami in his mouth.

I sat there feeling fat anyway.

Beefy.
Spacious.
Fluffy.

When I get up in front of a room to tell my story, it will include massive weight loss, but the real story is going to be about
how I changed my mind.

My thinking will change.
My transformation will be internal.

Sure I'll be thinner, but
'Halfway to Skinny'
is more about what goes on between my ears.

If I can change what happens inside my head,
and I expect that I will,
I can give YOU the step by step,
blow by blow,
how-to.

That will be a great story....I think.

Stay tuned.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
She doesn't say exactly how, but something tells
me this 15 minute yogic workout actually
DOES increase will and power.
Thanks to Stacy Lei Krauss!
click here or click below

Proud to be in Playboy

"I am proud to be in the current Playboy.
Yes, I am.
I am proud to be there, okay...
If Playboy is kidnapping women
to photograph them,
then I will help you lynch
the people from Playboy.
But as long as women want to pose,
I applaud it....
I'm proud to be there,
very proud...
I feel that the sexual ideology
of current feminism is
reactionary and repressive
and puritanical and phobic. ...
To talk about sex,
you have to know about
literature and art...
because that is where you feel
the flux,
the flux of our sexual desire,
the way our spirit
is not in these
rigid categories of
oppressor and victim.
Everything is flowing.
Fantasy
and imagination
and all these things,
they're always
flowing"
- Camille Paglia

Two of the worst pictures
of Jimmy Norton ever taken.
But I had to do SOMETHING
to prove that I was at the show last night.

For the record, I'm proud to be in the upcoming issue of Playboy.
Misgivings?
No.
Not even a little.

The only misgiving I have is that folks might react and I'll feel compelled to spend blog time defending myself when I'd rather be writing about giving chocolate
to Jimmy Norton.

I figured he'd get a kick out of a chocolate bar called 'Evening Dream'.
I took a chance that he likes dark chocolate.

After Jimmy's hilarious show at The Stress Factory last night, he lingered outside posing for pics and signing his new book. The line was long. I already have two beautiful pics with him. I didn't feel like waiting around and getting categorized as a fan
yet again.

So I cut in front of the line, handed him my chocolate gift and said,
"Honey, I can't stay but I brought you some chocolate because I love you."

He gave me an "Ooo, thanks! Nice!" when he looked at the fancy chocolate bar then called out another 'Thank you!' to me as I walked away and waved, leaving him to get hugs and kisses from his adoring fans.

But back to Playboy.
Yesterday, one of my nice readers expressed surprise that a woman of my education and intelligence wouldn't have more misgivings about appearing in a magazine that is exploitative and damaging to women.

Damaging?
Really??

How is it damaging?
Let's just say it is, for argument's sake.
Perhaps my reader was referring to the Playboy ideal that narrowly defines beauty as young, thin, bosomy, girl next door who coyly teases the boy next door while he's busy masturbating to pictures of her.

Here's my advice.
If you feel that way, don't read Playboy.
Read Bitch magazine (my favorite feminist magazine, by the way).

Notably because it's not afraid to reclaim the word BITCH as being woman-positive.
And for it's sharp, intelligent criticism of pop culture.
I don't agree with everything I read between it's covers but who cares?
BITCH is good stuff.
I recommend it highly.

Back to Playboy.
If you want to feel desirable in your not-Playboy-standards body, then find art, literature, media that makes you feel good.
Don't waste time on stuff that doesn't work for you.
But please, don't tell other folks what to like.
It's not your job to police other people's tastes. Nor is it your place to define what intelligent, educated people should and shouldn't find interesting.

Read this blog. Do I really strike you as THAT type of feminist? C'mon.

Playboy is
exploitative?
Let's look at the definition: The term "exploitation" may carry two distinct meanings:
# The act of utilizing something for any purpose. In this case, exploit is a synonym for use.
# The act of utilizing something in an unjust, cruel or selfish manner for one's own advantage.

We could argue all day about whether or not Playboy "uses" women to sell magazines.
We could say that Women's Day uses sugar addiction to sell theirs.
We could look at the celebrity gossip rags and say they exploit people's private lives to sell theirs...and we'd be right.

Selling involves exploitation.
We (we as a capitalist society) use people's insecurities to sell them things they don't really need. In return we may be made rich for our efforts or poor because we buy the products because we buy into the idea that we need to be better (as defined by the advertisers).

If you think that Playboy is "using" young women, then maybe you should speak to the women.
They compete to be in the pages of Playboy, not to feature their intellect, but to feature their bodies.
They know what they're doing.
They like the attention.
Eventually, they grow up. They don't value that type of attention any longer. They get attention for other aspects of their being.
Sorry, not seeing the harm.

Take a look at Bridget Marquardt.
In the latest episodes of The Girls Next Door she looks ...I dunno...like she's not having a good time any more.
She's outgrown her Playboy dream. She's onto other projects, her two masters in broadcasting and journalism maybe.
The myth is that Hef uses up the girls and tosses them out when it looks like just the opposite is true. The Girls Next Door have launched their careers and just don't need to be living with Hef any longer. They'll always be part of the mansion family, but it's time to grow up and branch out.

Feminists like to use the expression "slabs of meat" to describe the way women are displayed in Playboy's pages.
Airbrushed and packaged for consumption? Yes.
The same way every magazine on the newsstand airbrushes and packages whatever they're selling for consumption. That's what we do in a capitalist system.
We sell stuff. We buy stuff.
It's all 'exploitation' if that's what you want to call it.

Unfair to women of other body types?
Hey, it's not called Diversity-Boy it's called PLAY-boy for a reason.
They sell liquor, cigars, sports cars, fragrance, gambling and whatever else they advertise.

I'm not looking for diversity in Playboy.
I'm expecting a particular lifestyle.
If you think it's a lifestyle just for men, then I think that's very sexist of you.
I know some bawdy women who LOVE the Playboy lifestyle.
Maybe they're party girls, maybe they're bisexual or lesbian, maybe they just have some extra testosterone, maybe they like liquor, gambling, fast cars, cigars and skinny airbrushed young women with perfect boobs.

Playboy represents one of an infinite array of lifestyles available to you in this universe.
Take it or leave it.

If women think that they need to live up to the Playboy body type, then they need to stop reading f*cking Playboy and get some other body images into their psyche.

Watch more Oprah or something.
Or turn off the TV all together. Never pick up another (commercial) magazine ever again because they are selling you something. Selling relies on making us feel 'less-than' so we buy products to improve ourselves.
Vogue and Playboy are equally "damaging".

Protest Playboy?
Sure.
But be consistent.
Protest all commercial enterprises because they're all guilty.

And as my boy Jimmy Norton said last night,
"We've become a nation of whiney snitches...like hall monitors...pointing at each other accusing each other of being offensive while we walk around being emotionally spoiled and overly sensitive."
I'm paraphrasing, but you get the picture.

I don't find Playboy to be offensive.
The airbrushed, fantasy bodies are interesting for a few minutes.
Then I turn the pages and read the great cartoons and articles.

Do I read it often?
No.
I may have purchased my last Playboy when The Girls Next Door were on the cover.
And that's my right as a consumer in a free society.

My subscription to Bitch magazine?
I didn't know that precluded me from ever looking at soft core nudes ever again.

But what do I know?
I tend to agree with 90% of what Camille Paglia says.

Maybe I'm an anti-feminist feminist too.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
Provocative, intellectual feminist, Camille Paglia...
click here or click below

Lisa in Playboy and Ruby on the Style Network!

I had half a tablespoon of macaroni salad today.
It felt so decadent.
Not only was it full of mayonnaise but it had grated cheese on it too.
If I had eaten even half a forkful more it would have made me sick.

Thank God for the gastric bypass.

With the stress I have right now, I'm too tempted to surround myself with a garden of Twinkies and buckets of icing to soothe myself into a sugar coma.
The bypass makes that impossible.

This is a rough time for me right now.
Career-wise things are uncertain.

But on a hopeful note, I DID get a call from the fact checker over at Playboy magazine.
Gosh, was it a year and a half ago?
Last I blogged about being interviewed by Hal Niedzviecki was in May 2007.
Anyway, yeah, I'm going to be mentioned in an upcoming Playboy.
Since the fact checker said he needed a fast response from me, I'm hoping I'll be in Dec or January's issue (I'm hoping for the holiday issue)!

Hal, a pop-culture anaylyst, wrote an article on blogging, YouTube and reality shows and the possible side effects of unexpected fame. My blog was recommended to him because it was "well written" and I revealed lots of personal stuff in it. Plus blogging every day was something of a phenomenon.

So, he interviewed me.
It took less than an hour.
I was thrilled.
Playboy is a national treasure.
Many of the world's most respected public figures, authors, artists, and intellects have been interviewed for Playboy.

It's an honor to be mentioned, in print, within its pages.

Will his portrayal of me and my blog be flattering?
I don't expect it to be.
Read some of Hal's stuff (click here)
and you'll see that he thinks there is inherent danger in being so public about such personal issues.
He fears I'm setting an example for my students, a bad one, that could get them into trouble by drawing unwanted attention to themselves.

We'll see what he says.
I have this blog, after all.
I can rebut from here!

Funny how the timing of the Playboy thing is happening at this employment crossroads in my life.

I've been looking for full time work but with a heavy heart.
I really don't want anyone to own me.
I don't want to feel locked into a full time responsibility when I'm really looking forward to my body lift surgery that will probably take 6 weeks of downtime for recovery.

Maybe I should be looking for some part time gigs, work that's more flexible, less demanding.
Maybe I should be finishing my book!!

Halfway to Skinny is halfway to written.
Maybe it should get all the way written.
Maybe a speaker/author is who I truly am.
Maybe I need to make room in my life to be that truly me.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
Whoa!
Ruby??
Heard of her?
New Non-scripted reality series follows 500 pound Ruby Gettingers unforgettable
journey to lose weight and inspire others.
Ruby Offers Intimate Look at One Womans Life and Death Battle Against Obesity
Premieres Sunday, November 9 on The Style Network
click here or click below

Is my higher self thin??

nataliedee.com

Yesterday was a dear friend's birthday.
I wanted a piece of cake.
I did not have a piece of cake.
I also did not eat any candy.

"I remember,
before I had weight loss surgery,
making that universal proclamation,
'Weight loss surgery is not going to change who I am.
I will still be the same person.'
That is possibly the greatest
fib
I have ever told!
Did you make the same statement
before your surgery?
Most of us do.
And most of us are curiously surprised
to learn the change, inside and out,
is a grand part of the
transformation massive weight loss brings.
Today's___ Newsletter looks at change after surgery,
considers how our change
affects others
and embraces the entropy of 'becoming'
as we move from our
lower level of potentiality
to the higher level of actuality."
- source omitted by Lisa

I don't like the way this blogger implies that being thin equals a higher level of actuality.
That's eating-disorder talk.
That's perfectionistic, I'm-not-good-till-I'm-thin talk.

One can be thin,
one can lose weight
and still be vibrating at a frequency of guilty self-loathing.
That's NOT actualized.

The idea that my weight loss surgery is ONLY about weight loss reduces my eating disorder recovery to a side note.
Eating disorder recovery is the body of the note.

Eating disorder recovery is the main course.
My body size is the plate on which the main course is served.
(like my food metaphors?)

I still use food as a way to cope with my emotions.
I'm not all the way well, yet.

I still eat past full.
I still seek the numbing effect of an overfull stomach.

BUT....and everyone loves a big BUT...
I didn't eat the birthday cake.

Yesterday, I was at a birthday celebration. they had an enormous sheet cake, a good one, from one of those Italian bakeries that makes delicious cakes rather than crappy margarine icing disasters.

I watched the healthy, young students enjoying their yummy dessert.
Next to me was a giant basket full of chocolate, fun sized candies.
Good ones. M&M Mars brand candies.

I DID want to eat the sweets!
But I didn't.

Was it because of the gastric bypass?
Partially.

I knew I would feel queasy if I ate the cake or candies.
Still, I could have eaten a little bit, but I didn't.

Why?
I just knew better.
I knew that a little bit of cake or a little bit of candy was not enough.
It was not the cake or candy that I wanted. It was TOO MUCH cake and candy. Unless I could have eaten a giant wedge of cake or a dozen pieces of candy, I would not enjoy it.
So I didn't bother eating any, though I looked with longing for a bit.

Instead of sugary junk I came home and ate a homemade bowl of spinach and barley.

Afterward, I did not crave dessert.

What does this all mean?

I am actualizing my healthy self.
Not getting thinner right this second, not getting smaller,
I'm getting well-er.

The inner work is as, if not more, important than the getting-thin.

I resent the idea that someone who has reached their goal weight is somehow more actualized than those of us who have not.

The author of that quote does some helpful work for post-op gastric bypass patients.
I don't want to bash her.
I just needed to vent on that one idea.

My getting well, my self-actualization, is about inner, outer and all around healing.

The weight loss may go on break while the soul heals.
The mental health may hit a wellness plateau while the body heals.
Sometimes the inner, outer and all around healing doesn't happen simultaneously.

So, poo poo to any definition of self-actualization that lauds thinness without acknowledging accomplishments that are less visible.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
I look at her and think 'If I looked like her,
I'd have more confidence!'
But her advice is to think more about how to be of service rather than how we look.
I DO feel the instant shift in energy!
Thanks, Dr. Jeanine!
click here or click below

Where's my hair??

"McCain also called for 'rewarding'
people who joined
wellness programs
and
health clubs.
Wellness,
as regular readers know,
is just the new codeword for "not fat."
This is a horrible,
horrible idea."
- Big Fat Blog

Yeah, I'm a food snob.
When I see beer bellied fat men eating their pastries and coffee for breakfast, I want to scream at them
EAT REAL FOOD, STUPID!!!

When I see obese women, I tend to be more forgiving.
I still want to see them eat better foods, but I understand how they may be finding (false) comfort in junk foods and sweets.

Nevertheless, I see food, the consumption of food - consumption meaning buying it AND eating it - as directly related to one's body condition.

If I were a health practitioner, I would want to know what my patients were eating.
If they told me they were paying more attention to labels, I would want to know why so much of what they eat even HAD a label.

Last I looked, fresh fruits and vegetables had no nutrition label on them
and they're the most nutritious foods in the whole supermarket.

Aw, crap.
What I really want to talk about is my hair.
It's incredibly thin.
It started thinning in the mid 1980s a few years BEFORE my first weight loss surgery (the gastric band...not the lap band. The adjustable gastric band was put in me using a full, open incision, not laproscopy).

Stress?
Yes.

Heredity?
Maybe.

Nutrition?
I'm betting on it.

I need better nutrients in my system.
Vitamins are not cutting it.
May bypassed intestines are not breaking down the vitamins so I can absorb them.
I need them to pass more directly and quickly into my system from a food source.

I'm thinking juicing will save me...and my hair.

Have I juiced yet?
No.

I don't have the money to buy the bulk vegetables needed to make the juice.
Grains are cheaper.
I get more food volume from them.
Money is tight this week.
I'm living on barley.

Meanwhile my hair is falling out and swirling down the drain.

Money money money
must I manifest some money?

Or should I be focusing on fruits and vegetables?

Or should I just visualize a head of thick, healthy hair?

Nutrition for the belly.
Nutrition for the brain.

It's cheaper to feed my brain.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
Massage brings "nutrients" to the scalp??
Self massage is free.
I'm gonna give it a shot!
click here or click below

smell my book

JesterJournal.com: What are you most obsessed with now or today?

Jim Norton: Good question –
It’s still
political correctness.
It is still people’s need to make known
whether or not
they’re offended by humor.
It is still people’s
reaction to humor
and how
phony
and
despicable
their reaction is.

Last night at Jim Norton's book signing for
"I Hate Your Guts"
at Bookends in Ridgwood, NJ.
Like a creep,
I brought Jimmy a bag of candy
and handed it to him
with the same dignity
as Donna Pescow
showing
John Travolta
the condom
she bought for him
in Saturday Night Fever.

I really wanted to see Jim Norton but I also really wanted to stay at home, play it safe and watch the election night coverage.

There was some sort of electricity in the air last night.
I had to go out.
I put on makeup, did my hair and ventured out into the election night air.

There were over 100 people downstairs at Bookends in snooty, but quaint, Ridgewood, NJ to get our copies of

signed by the author.

I figured it would be the usual book signing where you stand in line and wait for 2 hours to eventually get 15 seconds face time with the author, then get politely escorted out of shouting range of anyone remotely associated with the celebrity while sniffing the fresh Sharpie ink on the inside cover of the book.

The ground floor of Bookends was set up with chairs, audience style, with a signing table, a mic for Jimmy and at least a dozen K-Rock staff (including two K Rock girls) bustling around taking care of details.

I sat in the third row hoping to kinda blend. I figured I'd have my few seconds of darsan, sniff my book and go home to watch Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert cover the Obama win.

Jimmy was introduced by Opie and Anthony's favorite stutterer, Big A, who was wearing one of the largest tuxedos ever sewn by a legion of tailors. He stuttered.
We laughed and as mean-spirited as that sounds, it wasn't.


Jimmy descended the stairs escorted by his handlers.

He looked like a 20 year old.
Whatever lifestyle he's living, it's keeping him looking incredibly young.

He looked (and felt) like my teenage boyfriend from high school- that familiar, freshly laundered, teenaged look (and feel) of a thick cotton fleece hoodie and jeans
and that boyishly uncertain way he embraced me (for the photo).

Jimmy entered the room to our delighted applause. He "winked" at us several times with his right eye which I suppose is the adult version of the way he used to spontaneously spin to his right several times, tourette's style, when he was a child.

Jimmy is funny
and I do mean funny-ha-ha.
His improv was sharp.
He joked about his audience being a bunch of pedarests feeling right at home in the children's book section of the store.
I daintily covered my mouth with my silk scarf and laughed like a proper Southern lady who might say, "Oh, Mista Nawton, how you DO go on!"

I was nervous.
The few girls in the audience were younger and thinner than I am.
I really wanted to hide.
I suddenly regretted wearing such a bright shade of blue.

He talked into the microphone.
"Are there any ladies in the room here tonight who are unescorted??"
he asked, getting no immediate response.
He repeated,
"Any unescorted ladies here tonight??"

Not sure why my brain took a few clicks before it started to work, but I think I raised my hand and squeaked, "me".

Jimmy addressed me as 'the woman over there in blue'.

He looked me right in the eyes with the seriousness of an STD diagnosis and said something on the order of, "oh good cuz I need a ___ ___." (insert expression meaning 'trouser friendly kiss')

Laughter.

Part of my brain started screaming,
"That's my cue!! Get his number!! Make a date!! He likes me, he likes me!"
The sane part of my brain laughed and squeezed my eyes shut appreciatively.

He kept eye contact with me and asked why I was without male companionship.

The stupid, self-denigrating part of my brain answered that one.
"Oh, I'm a college professor.
No one wants to f**k me."

He raised both eyebrows and said,
"Well maybe it's your subtle approach,"
which got a big laugh,
thank god.

He asked what subject I taught.
"Religion and Philosophy," I said.
"Oh that's really fascinating zzzzzzzzzzz," he feigned snoring.
More laughs.
"Maybe that's the problem. You have students sitting in class with a Cialis hard-on and you're saying, 'well blah blah the Buddhist philosophy...' and they're like zzzzzzzzzzz."

I was laughing and giggling like a typical fat person overcompensating for her size,
yet my laughter was sincere, too.


I took it like a joke because it was. Jimmy was working the crowd, doing his art. I loved it.

He asked if I had even read his book or if I just come to every book signing there (more good laughs).
I replied that yes I had read it and that I was a big fan.
Mercifully he didn't riff on the "big" in "big fan" and moved on to the next unescorted female (there were only three of us. The other two were young, blond and pretty).

Then the miracle happened.

As you know, I'm only working part time as an adjunct professor as I look for full time work.
I'm low on play-money.
Jimmy is doing gigs in the area. He has a whole new hour of material which I'm very anxious to see.
I've been too broke to buy tickets for any of his shows.
My friends can't afford the $43 it costs to get into The Stress Factory in New Brunswick this weekend. Hope was lost.

One of the main reasons I schlepped up to Ridgewood was because I knew I was not going to be able to see Jimmy perform this time around. The book signing was going to be my consolation prize.

That morning I actually shed a few tears when I realized that the shows in Brunswick are a few days away, just in time for me to have NO extra cash.

I actually contemplated asking Jimmy to hook me up with a ticket.
I would trade him something - a blog post, a story written just for him - a Little Drummer Boy type gift, something!
Of course I wasn't going to actually do anything about getting a ticket, but I contemplated.

Ok, so back to the miracle.
Downstairs at Bookends...
Jimmy announced that he had tickets to give away for his Stress Factory shows.

What???

My eyes popped open so wide I must have looked like a fat, bright blue version of the Geico Gecko.

He looked me in the eyes.
He may have been contemplating calling the stalker police or something cuz I'm sure I looked crazy.
There may have been some drooling involved (on my part).

He threw out a few ideas for how to give the tickets away.
Trivia contest?
A faked sexual act with a Teddy Ruxpin? (an idea that he verbally cleared with the Ridgewood police officer in attendance who was good naturedly amused).

We started kinda calling out suggestions all at once.
I got brave.

"I think you should give the tickets to the unescorted females in the room!"
I said in reach-the-last-row professor voice.

"I think so too," he professed back to me as he began signing books.

They were calling us up by rows. I suddenly regretted sitting so close. If I had sat farther back in the room I could have lingered longer. Being one of the first rows up there,
I figured once he signed my book I would have to leave
lest I look like a stalker.

Leaving early was good though, since I wanted to avoid the inevitable comparison between me and the younger, cuter, blonder girls.

I stood on line feeling like I stood out too much.

After our dialog, I couldn't blend.
He had audience-bantered with me.
And I had just shouted out and got a response about the tickets.
Dammit.
No gecko blending for me.

By the time I got near the signing table he had given away two sets of tickets.
I panicked.
At this point I was willing to cry if I had to (I was nervous enough to burst into tears on cue) or god forbid, do something tawdry with a Dora The Explora boxed set.

We inched up toward him.

The couple ahead of me had 3 or 4 books between them.
The female's name was "Jess" (I'll never forget that!)
He had her book in front of him, asked about the book belonging to "the professor".
We started clucking like yard hens.
NO, that's not my book!
Jess was panicking, wait, that is MY book!

F*ck my stupid karma.
WHY did this chaos have to happen when it was MY turn?

Confusion ensued as he played the shell game with our books.
Jimmy was annoyed with himself (or me or Jess).
"I screwed up. Get me another book for Jess," he said.

Jim's handler, the one who was taking pics of us fans with Jimmy using the fans' cameras, disappeared upstairs to the stock room to fetch fresh books.

Meantime, Jimmy, Jess and I are playing
MY book
MY book
and several times I heard him say "the professor's book" which meant he may have had something special in mind to write to me.
Something in reference to my being a professor
perhaps.

And then I said the stupidest,
most selfish,
awful thing as Jimmy slid my book in front of him.
I sniped, "That's mine! Don't f%ck it up!!"

Stupid me and my stupid mouth.
He should have just asked one of his handlers to snap my head off in a bear trap.

So, now, instead of something cool and professor-referenced, he wrote,


He should have just shoved the book in my ear and said, "Go home and watch tv alone you ungrateful horrible shrew".

He slid the book back to me.
I knew my time was about to be over.
I needed someone to hold my camera.
Just then, the handler showed up with a stack of books so I could get my picture taken.

The camera hand-off went ok, I think.
It was all a blur but the tension of the confused books and my shrewish mouth still hung in the air.

By the grace of a-second-chance-loving god,
I had thought to bring Jimmy a little gift.

Before our history-making-election night pose, I handed Jimmy the tiny gold gift bag.
"I brought you some candy. I know you like chocolate."

"Thank you, Lisa."
he said.

Hoping my chocolate offering
(insert sh*t joke for Jimmy here)
had softened my haggy, bossy, snipe about the autograph,
I sat next to him.

I felt too big, but there was no time for body-panic.
I had to pose just right or I'd end up looking like my face should be surrounded by gelatinous ham fat inside a triangular metal tin like the last pic I got with him.

Blech. I look like a walrus.
I should have a penguin flipper
sticking out the side of my mouth or something.
Yeesh!

The handler held up the camera.
I stuck out my chin a bit to hopefully eliminate the ham-in-tin effect.
I put my arm around him and got as close as I could hoping he wouldn't feel like an avalanche victim.
My other hand?
I wanted it to look like I was touching him affectionately.

Flash.
Snap.
I asked the picture-taking guy if I looked like I had too many chins.
"No, but you look like your hand is about to go south on Jimmy" he joked.

I thought my time was over, but the miracle unfolded.
Jimmy said something to his team about giving me tickets to The Stress Factory.

!!!

Good thing I have a strong heart.
I was already buoyant from all the interaction.
Now a deep wish was coming true.

They say that even if you don't pray it, God knows your heart.
My heart prayer was answered as big, clumsy, sweet-as-can-be, Club Soda Kenny
called me over behind Jimmy's chair.

He wrote down my name and let me choose which show to attend THIS WEEKEND (I'm still in shock over that...this weekend!!) I chose Saturday at 8:00pm. I gratefully touched big Kenny's upper arm.

Now, my time was over.

In my daze, I totally passed up the K-Rock table. Didn't get any of the O&A shwag they were giving away. Didn't snap a pic with a K-Rock girl. I just kinda bug-eyed my way back to my seat to gather my things.

Behind me I heard Jimmy spill the candy all over the table. I caught bits and pieces of what he said through his mouthful of Premium Triple Chocolate M & Ms.
"...I got chocolate on your book..."
"...take some of these...I can't ....I'll eat them all..."

Back at my seat I put on my coat and scarf.
I looked back at the third unescorted female, told her she was cute, and like a total creep, handed her a lollipop that had fallen out of the little gold gift bag (you can see the golden corner of the gift bag in the larger pic of me and Jimmy above).

Here she is.
The third unescorted female,
makeup artist Amyzon,
creator of "Faces by Amy",
local beauty
and
raiser of exotic reptiles.

She said I wasn't creepy,
just funny :-)

I slouched my way up the stairs, tried to look back at Jimmy while doing so, almost lost my stupid balance, and then just left the bookstore
like the lollipop-giving weirdo that I am.

As I drove home, I tried to calm down.
Didn't work.

I got home with my happy little, freshly inked treasure.
Every time I started to settle down, I'd remember that
I'M GOING TO SEE
Jim Norton
DO HIS NEW HOUR OF MATERIAL THIS SATURDAY AT THE STRESS FACTORY!!!

Renewed heart palpitations.

Whew!
What a night.

Had I given in to bad-body-thoughts and stayed home I would have missed an exhilarating experience, a miracle and Jimmy's weekend show.

I'm glad I went out and participated in this exciting night.

Thank you, Jimmy.
And thank-you to your wonderful staff.

Oh yeah, and Obama is our new President.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
Here's Jimmy in the "coping with one's sexuality section" of the D.C.
Barnes & Noble
for the signing of his last book, "Happy Endings: Tales of a Meaty Breasted Zilch".
God bless 'im he's funny on the spot, that silly goose.
Jimmy is a good egg and a hoot...to boot...you betcha!
click here or click below

speak freely, please

Xander wants to rock the vote!

"Above all else,
the First Amendment means
that government has
no power
to restrict expression because of its message,
its ideas,
its subject matter,
or its content.
To permit the continued building
of our politics
and culture,
and to assure self-fulfillment
for each individual,
our people are guaranteed
the right to express any thought,
free from
government
censorship."
- late U.S. Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall

"Freedom of speech
is
the right to tell people
what they
don't
want
to
hear."
- George Orwell

I don't like sexism.

I don't like fat-bashing.

Sexist comments and anti-fat remarks hurt my feelings.

I remember how I felt while watching the film Ray.
The Ray Charles character, played by Jamie Foxx, said he could tell if a woman was attractive or not by feeling her wrist. If it was slender, he knew she was pretty. If her wrist was fat he knew otherwise.

Geez. Even the blind guy finds a way to discriminate against fat women?
And since he couldn't see, I wondered what it was about a fat woman that he found so unattractive. Did she FEEL unpleasant?

But...
and here's why I may never be asked to represent NAAFA or any other fat activist group,
I would not try to censor
or eliminate
that kind of talk
even if it hurts my feelings.

RATHER
I will fight back with WORDS!

"...the First Amendment
has always been
held to mean
that you can say anything,
that the only antidote for bad speech
is good speech."
- Spectacle.org

I'm happy to raise awareness about issues of fat discrimination.
I'm happy to criticize people for speaking in a biased way against fat people.

I would NOT move to censor
ANYTHING!!

and I don't expect,
nor will I tolerate,
anyone attempting to censor me.

Amen.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
Dear God, I love smart, reasonable, pluralistic people who
aren't afraid to speak their minds.
A healthy balance?
Right on!
Hooray for Louis C.K.!!
click here or click below

I did not gain

I didn't crop this or glow-effect this pic (above) at all!
Notice my
Michelin tire monster arms.
Notice how far down you can scroll
before my boobs even begin!
This body acceptance
stuff
is
tough.

My side curls look like pais.

"We cannot change anything
until we accept it.
Condemnation
does not liberate,
it oppresses."
- C. G. Jung

The last time I had a job interview was back in April.
I wore my brand new, for-interviews-only, suit.

Today I had an interview.
A full 6 months since I last wore my interviews-only suit.
I approached the closet with dread.

Had I gained?
Had I lost (not likely).

All my life I've been on the gaining side.
Clothes always became tighter.
They were always a source of shame for me.

I'd go on a diet, lose weight, then reward myself with new clothes.
I'd inevitably gain back the weight plus some.
I'd hang on to clothes that I had out 'grown' on the off chance that I'd lose weight again after I'd dieted and gained.
They'd go out of style before they'd ever fit again...or never fit again.

For the first year following the gastric bypass it was nice to always find clothes becoming looser and looser.
But you saw how long it took me to sell my 'fat' clothes on Ebay. I hung onto them for over a year out of fear.
What if I gained it all back?
What if all this weight loss was just another temporary situation waiting to be undone?

That's what I thought as I approached my closet today.
I was sure my interview suit would be snug.

I dressed myself.
It fit the same as it did the first time I wore it.

No change in fit.
No change in body size.
No change whatsoever.

It was kinda like Goldilocks and Baby Bear's stuff..
It was just right.

I could claim to be disappointed.
I could chastise myself for remaining the same for the better part of a year.

But you know what?
I'm going to be happy instead.

At 240 pounds, I'm happy that I didn't gain.
I'm happy to have leveled off.

When I'm ready to work off the rest of the weight, I know I can do it.

In the meantime, HOORAY for maintaining!!

Oh, and the interview went very well.
I should be called for the second interview later this week.

I have faith.

*Lisa's Video Clip of the Day*
Maybe later.
I can't seem to get videos to load right now.

Unpopular Speech

"Unpopular speech
is absolutely vital
to the health
of our
nation."
- Alan Isaacman

"I am not trying to suggest
that you should like what Larry Flynt does.

I don't like what Larry Flynt does,
but what I do like is the fact
that I live in a country where
you and I can make
that decision
for ourselves.

I like the fact that I live in a country
here I can pick up Hustler magazine
and read it,
or throw it in the garbage can
if that's where I think it belongs. "
- from The People Vs. Larry Flynt

It's good to have my internet service back.
It's good to be connected to the info-web.

This upper respiratory infection?
Hot damn.
The symptoms weren't really that bad but
I
am
sooo
tired.

And I have an interview tomorrow.

Dammit.

I'm going to go to sleep really, really early tonight so I don't look like
who-did-it-and-regretted-it
tomorrow morning.

But I worry.
Not just about my fatigue, but about my mouth,
or rather my fingers.

My blog.
My public persona.
My online life.
Not that I'm terribly controversial, but I may be unpleasantly verbose
from the perspective of a prospective employer.

I've thought about this deeply.
I've reached a conclusion.

I would rather take a crap paying, low level job
than a high paying, high profile position
if the
high paying position had with it some sort of restriction on what I could say and do publicly.

Even if that restriction was merely implied, which it would be because it is illegal to censor free speech in this country.
If an HR recruiter tried to use phrases like
"we prefer"
or
"it's discouraged"
or some other weasel phrase
that translates into
"keep blogging and we'll fire you"
I
would
turn tail
and run.

I'm too old to compromise my values.
I've come too far in developing my identity and my self-esteem to let anyone tell me what I can and can't say.

It may cost me financially, but that will only be short term.

I'd rather sell books in the future than drive a Lexus now.

Hear that self??

Yeah, I heard ya.

Big mouth.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
Never tell me what I can't say.
Never tell me what I can't do.
It just makes me want to do it more!!
Hottie Edward Norton as Alan Isaacman in The People Vs. Larry Flynt.
click here or click below

I'll never stop

"Most of the time
we just want it to be easy.
We are tired of the
suffering,
tired of trying so hard,
tired of this weight problem
that has been plaguing us
for what seems like
forever.
We just want it go away..
It takes a long time to realize
that
quick fixes
have
quick
endings."
- Geneen Roth

I'm sitting in the computer lab on the fifth floor of University Hall.
The 6 foot tall windows look out over an expanse of fall-colored,
hills surrounding our beautiful campus.

Thank God for this place, this lab, this building, this campus.

I just gave a talk in a graduate class in Nutrition Science.
It was good to relive and remember how I got Halfway to Skinny.

It was two years ago that I made the discovery that fresh, whole foods were the only foods I could eat (post-op) that wouldn't make me feel nauseated.

It's been a long time since I was kicked off a Post-Op Gastric Bypass Yahoo Group for writing about alternatives to the prescribed post-op diet.
I remember the members of that community shouted me down for talking about Geneen Roth. They said she did not understand the needs of gastric bypass patients and was therefore not recommended reading for post-ops.

How dare I suggest that we had become morbidly obese in the first place because we had eating disorders.
How dare I suggest that addiction recovery, physical, biochemical, psychological, spiritual AND emotional should be encouraged for people who want or have had weight loss surgery.

How dare I continue to write about eating, body image, weight loss, and healing when I've reached a plateau in my weight loss.

HOW?

dare I??

This is how I dare.

Sitting here on my beloved campus... blogging.

Thanks for reading and sticking with me all this time.

As long as you're reading, I'll keep writing.

And even if no one reads...
I'll never stop.

*Lisa's Video Pick of the Day*
There is no sound here in the computer lab...well, there is but I don't have headphones with me.
So, I had to choose today's video without being able to hear it.
I selected a great scene from the underrated HBO Comedy Series Lucky Louie
starring Louis C.K. because I remember it being funny.
Enjoy!!
click here or click below