Friday, November 18, 2005


Alright, seeing as how it’s Friday and all, today is really my last valid day to complain about the week’s happenings. So here comes an overly-whiny, incredibly marathon post. Prepare or move on. Take breaks, I say.

First of all, I fell down the stairs at my apartment complex this week. I guess the heel of my shoe caught on one of the stair’s edges, which sent me rolling down the last few for that flight. See, I intelligently chose to live on the 3rd floor. My reasons were twofold. 1.) I don’t want to deal with noise from anyone upstairs (I walk heavy on my heels; I feel sorry for the poor bastards below me) and 2.) I doubt a robber is going to want to carry my TV down three flights of stairs when he could just run out the door on a first floor apartment. Yeah?

So, being on the 3rd floor, I have (let’s count them) three flights of stairs to walk up and down several times a day. Lucky for me, the official first spill I took was at the top flight, which had me landing on the platform between the third and second flights. It could have been worse, trust me. But for what it was, it was bad.

I thought I broke my knee for a minute. I have really weak knees to begin with; being a cheerleader for 6 years will wreak havoc on your body. So, a fall like this could have easily snapped my knee…but it didn’t. I ended up with one very skinned, cut, and bruised knee, the other knee severely bruised, and an injured toe (I will elaborate more on in further paragraphs). I breathed a huge sigh of relief that no one was around to see me tumble—it was quite a lumbering fall! In the aftermath (after I realized I was mostly okay), I was stupefied to find I was shoeless on one foot. My sandal had fallen through the opening between stairs and lay at the ground level. Dammit. Carefully, I hobbled down the cursed things, retrieved my shoe, and called work to tell them I would be late back from lunch. My boss insisted I stay home and recover, and who am I to argue with the boss! I was sore, and my toe was turning a right shade of purple!

Now, about this TOE! I swear, my body is trying to reject my left big toe, it HATES it. Here’s some back story: Way back in May of 2003, I had been dumped by a boy that I naively believed I would end up marrying. He terminated our relationship for no apparent reason, with no prior notice. However, when two of my older lady friends who attended church with me and this boy invited me to a seemingly innocent lunch, they revealed to me that he had recently started dating his best friend (whom, in a few weeks time, he married!). I was understandably crushed, so one of the women took me for a pedicure. I’d never had a pedicure before, sounded like fun. Now, they are the bane of my existence.

Apparently, I contracted a rather nasty toenail fungus. But, it went undetected as I figured the discoloration of my toenail was a result of my mom stepping on my toe two times in the same day pre-pedicure. Now I realize that the injury probably made my poor wittle toe more susceptible to the fungus. Anyway, sometime in January (yes, 8 months after I acquired the fungus) I went to the doctor and said, “Hey doc, while I’m here, can you tell me what’s wrong with my big toe.” A lab test later, and he was delivering the bad news:

“Lanette, I’m afraid it’s…it’s…”
“Give it to me straight, Doc, I can handle it.”
“It’s…a FUNGUS!”
“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” wailed I.

A year and a half later, I am still battling the TF. Sure, I tried the topical nail solution, but WHO can keep up with painting the solution on every night for 6 days, then rubbing it off with alcohol on the 7th day, just to repeat the cycle the next day? Hello…I have a life!

Eventually, the toe fungus grew itself out (or so I think…). I was ecstatic, because if I may boast for a second, I think I have very pretty feet—dainty and narrow. This fungus was an eyesore that I could do NOTHING about…and who wants to tell anyone that they have a fungus! I was so stigmatized by my family, friends, co-workers…traumatized, I tell you. But before Tuesday’s fateful fall, it was on the road to recovery.

And then I was clumsy.

Now, this poor toe is experiencing more pain, bruised and sore, the toenail along with the whole toe is just purple and swollen. I’m praying the bits of dirt and rock that was surely jammed up under the nail won’t perpetuate the fungal disaster. Wait and See is the name of the game, folks.

Aside from my Fungus Toe Pity Party, I am also having a Flabulous Sulking Session. Intrigued? I thought so.

See, I was always the smallest girl in my class…in 6th grade I weighed 69 pounds and was 4’10” tall. High school didn’t see much of a weight development, and by the end of Senior year, I was about 5’2” (still the same height now) and about 96-97 pounds. I was a cheerleader for 4 years, I was the flyer (the girl at the top of the pyramids), I was the one who was thrown up in the air and (most of the time, at least) caught.

In college, I pursued the cheerleading activities. Since I was so small fresh out of high school, the rigorous (ha!) work out schedule and game schedule only made me lose weight. We were conditioning 3 times a week, so I was toned, then we would practice 3 times a week for at least 3 hours (loads of running around, hitting marks, playing with different stunts, etc.). Not to mention we would have games to cheer at, sometimes double-headers, so that’s at least 2 more hours of jumping, running, tumbling, exercising. Until now, I never realized JUST how small I was. I got down to about 95 pounds and had very little body fat. It. Was. Beautiful.

After two years and when I felt like I wasn’t furthering my cheerleading career, I decided to quit as I would need more time to dedicate to my studies and to myself. (No, that's not me in the picture, just what I would do). I had never worked out any more than what the cheerleading life regulated, so I didn’t know that to STAY that small, I would have to keep working at it. So, I kept my same eating habits but failed to exercise, and eventually (within about two years) I saw a bit of a weight gain. This being such a foreign downfall for me, I had my bouts of bulimia, but nothing that would even require a diagnosis. I would do some sporadic workouts, but nothing that yielded the results I desired.

As the years went by, I found myself not fitting into the Size 0 pants I had worn all my life. I had to BUY A SIZE BIGGER! Devastating.

Now, the same thing is continuing. I don’t believe in any way that I’m fat, but there are certain areas of my body that have more…insulation…than they did before. I’m uncomfortable in my clothes, in my skin, in my body. I can’t look at myself naked in a mirror because I will stare for too long, pulling at the areas that have expanded, grabbing the excess fat on my inner thigh and pulling it to the back thinking to myself, “If only my legs looked like THAT…”

A few months ago, I got so fed up that I decided to stop whining about my plight and become proactive. So, I started keeping a log of my calories I ate and power walked (because I’m 80 years old and broken) at night. I even took “Before” and “After” pictures. In the passing of 2 months time and adhering strictly to this regimen, the “After” picture revealed promising results. Encouraged, I vowed to myself to keep up with this routine.

Then life happened. I moved out, I started working full-time, I got tired, I made excuses. Soon, all the weight and toning I had lost and gained was unnoticeable again. Back to square one…or maybe I was worse off now! I thought that living on a limited budget by myself would cause a decrease in my eating, but something was just off.

Seeing as how my apartment has the largest work-out facilities I’ve ever seen for an apartment complex, I figured I would again become proactive and utilize the facilities I had at my fingertips. So, lately, I’ve worked out at least 2-3 times per week (cardio, stretching, weight lifting) and have been attempting to regulate what I eat…and I’m still not seeing any results.

Why, MOH, would you want to be so small again, you ask? Well, aside from the obvious reasons, two are most outstanding. First, when you come from a very small body shape, able to fit into whatever you want and look fit and trim in the outfits, to a slightly larger and less toned body, you get really uncomfortable. I started evaluating every girl I walked by on campus thinking, “I wish I looked like that”, “She’s so skinny!” and “At least I’m not that big” (horrible, I know). I hate the way I look, and it’s something that’s on my mind every single day, from dawn until dusk. Of course, friends and family tell me I’m lucky to still be “so small”, and they don’t understand what it’s like to KNOW you could be so thin again. They’re just trying to help, I tell myself. But I know what I COULD look like, and NOT looking that way makes me feel very uneasy about my appearance. Sure, with clothes on I look fine, but undressed or scantily clad, I’m literally disgusted with myself.

Secondly, I have a very special boyfriend coming to visit me in 37 days. Although this statement would drive feminists world-wide bonkers: I want to look my best for him. I want him to look at me and think I’m beautiful (which, I know he already does, but you know what I mean). I want to feel beautiful in front of him, I want to be comfortable in his presence, and I won’t unless I become firmer and lose some weight.

It’s just extremely discouraging when you work out so hard, sweat literally dripping off your forehead as your heart-rate skyrockets, and you find that your pants are fitting you TIGHTER than before. And I know what you’re going to say, and save your breath: It’s NOT muscle.

I haven’t yet come to terms with the reality that “I’m not 18 anymore” and “my body’s changing to adapt to child-bearing years”. I look at other girls my age and think, “Well, where the hell are HER widened child-bearing hips?” I’m a small girl; my frame is not built for flab. And yet, there it is. And it gnaws at me every day.

I’ve had people tell me the *best* diet to be on if I want to tone this and lose that. I’ve had exercise programs and menus laid out for me by my exercise fanatic friends. I know I should eat more fish. I know I shouldn’t eat out so much. I know microwave popcorn is not a healthy dinner. But LIFE happens! I just want to lose a bit of weight and look better, FEEL better about myself and how I look.

I was always known as the girl you could “pick up, twirl around and hug”. I don’t want to now be whispered about as “that girl you USED to be able to pick up, twirl, and hug, but now she just causes back problems for those that lift her.”

Moan, moan, gripe, gripe. Go to the gym, MOH!

Sorry this was so long and detailed, but like I said, it’s Friday, and I have to rant and rave about the things of this week before the opportunity passes me by! Have a great weekend everyone. I’ll be in the Weight Watchers aisle of WalMart if you want to hang out!

Insignificance Conveyed @ 8:08 AM   10 GabbyGabbers

10 "Sure was sweet of you to drop in":

At 10:55 AM, Blogger Huw "told me"

I imagine if I were to see you naked in a mirror I too would find myself staring too long, and grabbing and pulling at things. That though, is an entirely different matter. Ahem.

Swiftly moving elsewhere, did they manage to get that poor girl dislodged from that spire? I never imagined cheerleading had the potential to be so... uncomfortable.

At 11:05 AM, Blogger Me Over Here "told me"

Huw! Good grief. Besides making me blush at my desk (thank you for the comment!), I had to annoyingly laugh at your second ALWAYS find something wrong with my pictures! (Although going back and looking at it, you're completely right...hilarious. I wonder if the people who were actually IN the picture noticed that!)

At 1:44 PM, Blogger Chris "told me"

I feel as if I need to catch my breath after all of that. Whew.

Okay, now to comment!

I totally understand about the weight thing - and trust me, as a guy, I should probably never use the word "diet" to avoid certain name-callings and midnight ambushes with lipstick and lingirie. Ahem. Usually when a guy goes on a diet, he'll say, "Well, ya know, to keep my top performance with da ladies, I gots ta eat healthier. Ya know, more protein ta putta lil' more oomph in mah bang, ya know?" Try saying that with your best Sylvester Stallone impression. But yeah, being 6'4'', I'm already a big guy and so it's very noticeable when I carry a few extra pounds. Like my friend Kat said, though, "I wouldn't call you fat. Just big." Thanks Kat, you always know how to make someone feel better about their size.

At 1:54 PM, Blogger Jona "told me"

I’m sorry to hear about your fall, I’m one of life’s fallers, walls, pavements, stairs, mushrooms – you name it, I can slip or fall down/up/over it. You have my sympathies, and I’m hoping it’s an unusual occurrence for you, cause I’ve never learnt do to get up gracefully and the fear of the humiliation haunts me!

And as for the weight… yikes, that all sounds a little familiar too! And it gets worse. Just wait till you’ve had you first child (though the trick with having kids, is to have so many you never stop running around and don’t have the time or money to eat!) All things considered, I’m downright skinny now – which comes with some irony after the years of dieting – but I’m totally untoned, and it ain’t pretty ;o) And now that I’m heading towards forty I’ve finally realised it’s not about weight anyway, it’s shape. It’s the curvy girls who are sexy, though this in itself requires effort, and my advice would be eat what you like in moderation, and keep up the workouts (says she who never does!!).

And don’t worry too much about your beloved – men talk, they know what’s coming to them – love handles, and believe me, their a bitch to get rid of ;o) But you'll love him anyway, right?

Oh and I've got to tell you the word verification, because it amuses me: ukspnut

At 10:15 PM, Blogger Müzikdüde "told me"

That was a long trip...I had to pull over a couple times and take a nap.

I thought my posts were lengthy.

From your profile pic, I would say everything turned out pretty good.

I can't remember if I've blogrolled you so I'm going to do may show up twice.

At 12:19 PM, Blogger Curly "told me"

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

At 12:21 PM, Blogger Curly "told me"

I personally would not like to see anything hanging out in the weight watchers aisle, it brings back nasty memories.

At 12:28 PM, Blogger Simon Swinbank "told me"

Hi again. Just a quick point of encouragement about the girl people used to be about to hug thing. I had a girlfriend who used to think she'd be less hugable if she put on weight but it made her even MORE hugable.

At 9:30 AM, Blogger Rob West "told me"



Have I ever mentioned my "Don't be that guy" philosophy?

The philosophy is as follows: Don't be that guy. (You know... That Guy). Such as, you read a girl's blog and immediately start in with "Hi, just read your blog and couldn't help but notice you're hot." Very "that guy".

But since you brought it up, and we're friends and all, I'll go ahead and say it: I think you are a stunningly gorgeous girl. No two ways about it, I just happen to think, Well there's a beautiful girl. Can I say that? We still cool, Huwey?

Now, the point I wanted to make is, so quit worrying. But I know Mo, and she is like myself, in that telling her "quit worrying!" is like saying "Hey sun! Quit shining! Jeez!"

So, instead I will say that, in my opinion (some call it "humble" but don't fool yourself, my opinion has an awful high opinion of itself), "a little bit too skinny" is a LOT worse than "a little bit not too skinny enough".

So knock it off. There is no bigger waste of time then sitting around trying to convince a clearly beautiful girl that she's beautiul.


Just more of you to love, baby!

At 10:19 AM, Blogger Me Over Here "told me"

Swankertons, wow...thank you so much! That just made me feel a million times better. Sometimes I really hate making it abundantly clear to people that I'm just flat-out not happy with my body because it makes me sound like I'm fishing for compliments...which I'm not. Sometimes it's just too much to hold in. So of course, I'm going to keep on worrying about it, but it's nice to know that some people find me attractive. I really appreicate it!

Now to go pack on the pounds with our company Thanksgiving luncheon! NEVER try to lose weight over the holidays, MOH, NEVER!


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