tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45432162178493073882024-03-13T03:30:04.889-07:00Diary of a Mad, Fat WomanDiary of my quest to get a life, get less stress, get happy, and get a man.A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-34172117736407790092012-01-15T21:56:00.001-08:002012-01-15T21:56:40.047-08:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G_hq4YEDRe8/TxO8GOdY_RI/AAAAAAAAAJk/Oc8MUEyta20/s1600/IMG-20120115-00001-700047.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G_hq4YEDRe8/TxO8GOdY_RI/AAAAAAAAAJk/Oc8MUEyta20/s320/IMG-20120115-00001-700047.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698104768700415250" /></a></p>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-38771476961231792072010-11-25T07:43:00.001-08:002010-11-25T07:43:32.814-08:00Up Early on a Holiday?I am up early to hit the gym. The things I do to gain a preemptive strike against Thanksgiving weight gain.<p>Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerryA Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-1020743417623043462010-11-15T15:44:00.001-08:002010-11-15T15:44:28.502-08:00Climbing the StairsI just climbed 2 flights of stairs, huffing and puffing like a locomotive. It's a sad fact that I've gotten so fat that I have the stamina of a corpse. it will be interesting to see whether it will get easier by the end of the week if I do this everyday.<p>Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerryA Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-48132139581521205202010-05-06T13:18:00.001-07:002010-05-06T13:18:01.772-07:00These rules apply to everyone but me!One of my coworkers is a really hard-nosed conservative. She hates people that take more than their share, and is a hard-ass against people that do not follow the rules.<p>So why is it, when invited to a screening and told she could only have one guest, she brought her husband, her daughters, and a friend? It was a real struggle for me to keep from saying anything.<p>That's generally been my experience with hard-lined conservatives. They have one set of rules that they want others to follow, but are not above breaking the rules or wanting an exception for themselves.<p>Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerryA Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-58071269718638531812010-03-05T15:29:00.001-08:002010-03-05T15:29:54.184-08:00Give AwayMy father gave my new cell number to his crazy, user friend. I really wish he would refrain from giving that fool access to me.<p><br>Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerryA Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-52959640826135013142010-02-18T13:47:00.001-08:002010-02-18T13:47:58.644-08:00Absence of CommunicationPeter just sent me a text to see how I was doing. It was deleted without a response. It's not that I am some vengeful wench. It's just that I have nothing to say to someone who's response to a request for a relationship is a pity fuck.<br>Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerryA Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-37871133142884679772010-02-16T17:11:00.001-08:002010-02-16T17:11:20.177-08:00HungryToday is Day Two of my 3-Day, Nine-Pound Diet. Since it's a starvation diet - half a piece of toast and 1 egg for breakfast - I am hungry.<p>Still, I am rather "desperate" to loose the weight. I have been disastified for a while, and this is one of the changes I want to make.<p>At a minimum, I anticipate that it should expose me to a better class of male. It's clear from my experience with Peter and "G" that this is what I need.<p>I had forgotten I had this meal plan in my files. I am sorry I did not do it while I was off work.<p>Stil, I just weighed in at the doctor's office. There has been a definite improvement so I would say it's been worth it.<p>My goal this month was to be down to 280, and I was only going higher. I am hoping that this diet once a month, plus switching to Whole Foods, will keep me on track.<br>Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerryA Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-64235577673775255332010-02-10T11:41:00.000-08:002010-02-10T11:42:18.254-08:00Mixed Messages<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I heard from Peter after I sent him a message expressing my confusion. I invited him for my birthday. He came out for about 40 hours and then left. I have not heard from him since.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I told him that I was attracted to him and wanted a relationship. He flew out as a one-time visit because I have been so stressed and he felt sorry for me. While I am impressed that he spent $500 to fly across country and cheer me up, I'd rather not be an object of pity.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I hate it when I misjudge someone's character. One of the reasons I liked Peter was because I felt he was thoughtful and genuine. Clearly, this was not true.</span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-41041897898811588632010-02-10T09:14:00.001-08:002010-02-10T09:14:28.685-08:00What is the point?George keeps poking me on Facebook, and yet he does not return phone calls. I wish he would stop trying to waste my time.<br>Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerryA Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-77984634101216499182010-02-10T08:34:00.000-08:002010-02-10T08:56:35.773-08:00TranportedThe bus that I take to work in the morning rarely has more than 9 people on it. Today was no exception, even with the homeless passenger that the driver let on.<p>Why was it, with a nearly-empty bus, the crazy and stinky homeless man came to sit right behind me?<p>To his credit, the bus driver - eventually - yelled at the guy to move up front (where there was no one sitting) or get off the bus.<br>Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerryA Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-43863759914890526602010-02-08T15:29:00.000-08:002010-02-08T15:30:00.264-08:00On the Down Low<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I take the train work. At the stop just before my station, there is a message that flashes by. It's an automated screen with a blue background and dark text.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">We go by much too fast for me to read it; the only way it would be visible was if the train were not in motion. Since, it's between stops, I am pretty sure it's supposed to be subliminal advertising.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Since I discovered the existence of the ad, I make sure to keep my nose buried in a book so that I miss the message.</span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-2739484541069386632010-02-08T15:28:00.000-08:002010-02-08T15:29:23.866-08:00Making Updates<p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I seem to have acquired the ancient Chinese curse of having an interesting life so it's galling that there are not more updates.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I think the primary problem is that this is an anonymous blog. I change names, but too many details would still mean that - if anyone I knew stumbled across this - it could be traced back to me.</span></p>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-30134738872854508802010-01-31T21:38:00.001-08:002010-01-31T21:38:38.720-08:00Weight Check - January 30, 2010<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Current Weight: 293.5 pounds</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">This Week’s Weight Gain or Loss: 1.5 pounds down</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Goal Weight: 140 pounds</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Goal for Next Week: 5.5 pounds </span><br /></span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-72038040380386676442010-01-10T11:40:00.000-08:002010-01-10T11:48:08.111-08:00Weight Check - January 9, 2010<div></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Current Weight: 294 pounds</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">This Week’s Weight Gain or Loss: 3 pounds down</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Goal Weight: 140 pounds</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Goal for Next Week: 3 pounds</span></span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-25382002142934243212010-01-08T14:55:00.001-08:002010-01-08T14:55:22.832-08:00Get Your Own Task!<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">The one thing that amazes me the most about working to take care of a parent is the number of people that have no clue how to truly be helpful. If there are 15 tasks to do, and I am working on one of them, then helping me means picking an unattended task – not picking my current project and mucking with it.<br /><br />My father has finally agreed to the disposal of items in his storage unit. Prior to this, he was holding on to everything that was not stolen by the crack head because he wanted something to leave my brother and I when he dies. My brother and I are not interested.<br /><br />Anyway, I was finally able to convince him to sell everything in the storage unit. I found the name of a company that specializes in this sort of thing. They sell everything that can be sold and donate what cannot.<br /><br />Before I could set up an appointment, my father called to let me know that one of his friends would be handling this. It’s irritating because his friends never follow-through and always muck things up and cause more problems then they solve.<br /><br />Really, I thought I had finally convinced him to stop helping me. I guess not.</span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-16580273525362397712010-01-08T14:26:00.001-08:002010-01-08T14:26:25.262-08:00Strangeness in the Elevator<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I am fortunate enough to work at a company with great benefits, which includes an on site car wash. This may not seem like a big deal, but it gives me back at least one hour on my weekend to be able to do this at work.<br /><br />I typically drop my car off in the morning and pick it back up at lunch. There were two gentlemen in business suits in the elevator when I got on to go down to the garage. Ours is a strictly casual company so I’ll assume they were either sales representatives or interviewing for a job.<br /><br />Man in Suit #1: Hello there.<br />Me: Hi<br />Man in Suit #1: Would you like a hug?<br />Me: (taken aback) No thank you<br />Man in Suit #1: Aw, come on (grabs me and gives me a hug). We’re from Texas; we’re friendly.<br /><br />I’ve been to Texas. I have friends from Texas. I seriously doubt that, in state where carrying guns is as normal as carrying around a pen to write with, people go around grabbing strangers for a hug.</span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-79943458581563179052010-01-08T14:18:00.001-08:002010-01-08T14:18:51.368-08:00Love Lines<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">George never returned any of my phone calls.<br /><br />Peter ended up flying out at the last minute for my birthday. Things seemed promising while he was here, but I’ve not heard from him since.<br /><br />I reconnected with Bren, whom I went out with once three years ago. It’s interesting how people remember things. Bren accused me of standing him up twice. As I remember it, he and I had a date. He called to say he would be late. 45 minutes later – and long after the original start time of our date – he called to say he was not coming.</span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-27434442870050771842009-12-19T07:18:00.000-08:002009-12-19T07:19:40.721-08:00Where in the world is...?<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">My mother left a message for me the other evening. Apparently, my father has been relocated back to his board and care. My stepfather found out when he went to drop off a box for my dad. I have no idea how or why this happened, but hooray!</span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-72189911242140204922009-12-10T12:06:00.001-08:002009-12-10T12:06:28.877-08:00Poignant Memories<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Thanks to an injury, I spent several weeks at the beginning of the year lying on my sofa with my feet elevated above my heart. To alleviate the sheer boredom that came from lying around doing nothing, I decided to invite my mother over so we could finally tackle the task of sorting through the photos in the 70+ albums my grandparents left behind when they died.<br /><br />I saw some old photos I don’t think I’ve seen before like the maternal grandmother of my maternal grandmother and a picture of my mother with her long-time bestfriend that was taken when they were both in junior high.<br /><br />There were also, perhaps, a couple of hundred photos of me with my family at the pool at my grandparents old home. That house was sold when I was in college, and I had forgotten how many memories were associated with the pool.<br /><br />My maternal grandparents had an old home with a huge backyard that included a large pool and an “old school” pool house. It had a large play area along with a tiny, tiny bathroom. There was a storage shed in the back with our toys and flotation devices.<br /><br />My mother, father, brother and I would pile into the car practically every weekend to spend the day outside by the pool. When I was younger, I was no fan of the water. I would have to be carried to the water where I would cling to my mother like a barnacle to a ship.<br /><br />As I became older and less timid, I swam on my own. My brother and I would run around and scream and laugh.<br /><br />Every once in a while, godparents and aunts and uncles and cousins would join us. There would be barbeque and games and swimming contests and lots of laughter.<br /><br />I learned to skate in the backyard, using the concrete around the pool as the smooth, flat surface that was best for learning on those old metal skates.<br /><br />My childhood bestfriend and I exchanged friendship bracelets after she came over one afternoon early into our friendship.<br /><br />It’s interesting because today many parents would throw up their hands in horror at the thought of young children wearing floaties or skating on the concrete around a pool while wearing heavy metal skates.<br /><br />However, these memories are among some of my post poignant memories from my childhood and I would not change them for anything in the world.</span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-30639918949350736542009-12-10T11:45:00.000-08:002009-12-10T11:46:15.696-08:00Love Lines<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I’ve not heard from Peter since our conversation at the end of November. This feels like a chapter from He’s Just Not That Into You.<br /><br />I have, on the other hand, reconnected with George on Facebook. He responds promptly to my messages and, in our one phone conversation, seems like a genuinely nice guy who is interested in what I have to say.<br /><br />I wish there was some way to issue Peter an un-vitation so that I could have George come down for my birthday bash instead.</span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-5495708146402519372009-12-05T10:06:00.000-08:002009-12-05T10:07:06.784-08:00Weight Check - December 5, 2009<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Current Weight: 297 pounds</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">This Week’s Weight Gain or Loss: 0 pounds</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Goal Weight: 140 pounds</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Goal for Next Week: 5 pounds </span><br /></span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-77206515388211125022009-12-03T16:51:00.000-08:002009-12-03T16:52:15.655-08:00My Favorite Holiday<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">My favorite holiday is New Year’s Day. For me, the New Year is not just a chance to start over anew but also a time to celebrate my life since my birthday falls around this time.</span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-8657933384225633572009-12-03T16:47:00.000-08:002009-12-03T16:48:15.080-08:00Love Lines<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I spoke with Peter this morning. He is flying in for my birthday.</span>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-30576313595315003712009-12-03T16:41:00.000-08:002009-12-03T16:42:33.006-08:00Daddy Drama<p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">If there is one thing I have become tired of in the few years since I have taken over as power of attorney for my father, it is the daily drama factor. Like many people on his side of the family, my father does not embrace the notion that, ‘the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.’ Anytime my father can take the most circuitous and time-consuming route, he will.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">The opinion of anyone with a penis always overrides what I think. It takes forever to finish the simplest of tasks, and I literally have some errand/task to perform for him everyday in addition to managing my own life.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Right now, his home is in escrow. One mortgage company has agreed to the short sale. The other mortgage company is trying to put him in foreclosure.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">In addition to that, I recently found out my father was diagnosed with cancer. His radiation treatments have already started. Since multiple breaks from work to deal with my own health problems and his issues has depleted my savings, I really cannot take anymore time off. He attends the treatments on his own. He has a shuttle service that takes him to the hospital.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">It is a shuttle service he already uses, and they are highly unreliable. Fortunately, the American Cancer Society has a low-cost shuttle that is available to senior citizens. They will pick my dad up from his board and care and take him to the hospital. Unsurprisingly, my father has decided on another option.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">He plans to relocate for 5 weeks to a furnished apartment near the hospital. This might work for someone that is independent. I cannot figure out how my dad plans to bath and feed himself. He cannot do this task on his own, and I am not moving with him.<br />I found out about this yesterday. The move happens this weekend. I think I am just going to turn my phone off.</span></p>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4543216217849307388.post-7321937564407336432009-12-01T10:36:00.000-08:002009-12-01T10:37:15.234-08:00Tales from the Bus<p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Someone once posted on one of my message boards that it's considered rude in the UK to hold conversations on pulbic transportation above a whisper. I wish the same were true here.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I generally spend the bus ride with my head buried in a book. It helps me avoid the crazies and provides the added bonus of allowing me to more quickly working through the 90+ unread books on my shelves. Last night, a loud noise gradually intruded on my peace. It was the sound of someone singing Christmas songs out loud. I am all for a little holiday cheer, but I am not interesting in hearing Joy to the World in off-key.</span></p>A Mad, Fat Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11977817972683031036noreply@blogger.com0