The Special K Challenge

Has anyone else ever noticed how happy the bitches on the back of Special K boxes are? Probably because they just lost a whole jeans size in two weeks. I don't know if I believe it but I'm pretty broke and a giant box of cereal and a gallon of milk is infinitely cheaper than all that other shit I typically put in my cart. So here goes nothing.

The premise for those of you who mute your tv during the annoyingly red commercials:

Meal 1: Special K with fruit and 2/3 cup of skim milk

Meal 2: Special K with fruit and 2/3 cup of skim milk OR Special K protein bar or shake

Meal 3: Whatever you would normally eat (and I fail at this portion!)

Snacks: 2 a day- fruit, veggies or Special K treats (snack bars, protein water, cereal bars, crackers or fruit chips)

Bam. Seems easy enough right? If I seem extra bitchy during this ordeal just remember how damn happy I'll be at the end- just like the girl on the Special K box right?

Starting Weight: 164

Starting Jeans Size: 10

Looking for a Gift for the Virgin in your life?

Look no further than here. And be sure to read the commentary that accompanies this gem of a gift. You're welcome.

Morning After Messages

"It may have been my decision last night to do the Irish Whiskey shots, but I think it was your decision originally that started the Irish Whiskey history. I was somewhat coherent until that shot happened. After that shot happened things get quite hazy. You are blamed for me being drunk last night and not Athens and an all day tailgate fest. I hope your night turned out well!"

~Hot guy I had a glass with in college who bumped into me downtown Saturday.

* And like a true life in shambles, I have a picture of how this tradition started and I cannot fucking locate it. Anywhere.

What is Missing?

It has occured to me that this website is missing something. A couple of somethings:

1. Drunk blogging

2. Recaps

3. Pictures

Not sure I can remedy any of those but since I'm fucking sitting here stone-cold sober BY MYSELF on Thanksgiving after ingesting the Ruby Tuesday's fucking salad bar, I guess I could at least muster some damn pictures. So....here goes:

Nothing says I can't cook but fuck it, I like to booze like a fridge filled with a gallon of milk, two dozen eggs, some dips for chips, a sprite and over 3 dozen jello shots. Welcome to day 2 of my 22nd birthday.

If you want to bang a girl and make her feel like she drank you under a table when really you led her along like the pied piper into a naked blackout, I'm a whore state then head to Buddha Bar in Athens, GA and give her some sake bombs. When she stops trying to even get the shot glasses on the chopsticks, it's time to take her home. Not that this ever happened to me. I did, however, do this to a guy. Or two. Okay, three. That's my final answer.

Apparently, these guys are in a frat. What tipped you off? Maybe the fact that one brother is about to drink from another brother's crotch? Maybe? Tehehe, dick jokes are funny.

Welcome to a typical Shambles night. This was back in 2006. That is my collection of shot glasses and my chaser "fat bud". And no I do not pull that Coyote Ugly bullshit spit it in the beer bottle crap. I take my shots and I like them. Also, I am slightly artistic when I want to be.

Okay, bitches, I'm bored of this currently. I think 4 pictures into my past is enough. However, this is something I will start doing on the reg. Send me your funny shots and I'll post those too. Anonymously or otherwise.

Thankful Thursday

In honor of Turkey Day here are all the things I am thankful for.

• Clothing. Something has to cover the cellulite and stretch marks.
• Uggs. They may be ugly but damn if they aren't comfy.
• Wine. And wine glasses. And bottle openers for said wine.
• Beer. Kegs. Pint glasses. Power Hour. Pitchers.
• Football. Boys in tight pants playing with balls.
• Coolers. Keeping my booze cold. Great for bets. Also decent seating when in a crunch.
• People uglier than me. I know it's bitchy but don't even pretend like when someone less attractive than you is in the same room you don't secretly thank god for small favors.
• Liquor. Shot glasses.
• Bars. Somewhere everyone knows your name. Because you puked everywhere, took half your clothes off and went home with a rando.
• Hot boys. A girl can dream.
• Piedmont Park. I like to play with balls there.
• My blackberry. How the hell else would I get through the day? Who would entertain you with inappropriate or blatantly obvious tweets?
• Friends and Family. Because it's what everyone says. And someone out there probably listed me so this is really just to cover my bases.
• Mexican food. Feels so good going down...the next morning I may weigh 5 more lbs and feel like shit but damn last night was good.
• Other drunk people. This doesn't bear explaining.
• Sober people. For rides home, duh.
• Sweatpants. Ohhhh god I love sweatpants. There are even some guys who look sexy in them. Probably not any of my readers but don't fret, I don't look sexy in them either.
• Blogs like Barstool Sports, masshole sports, bulldog in exile, fired n fabulous,imboycrazy.com, Livit, Luvit and 8 billion other blogs I read every day (perhaps I should highlight one a week....hmmmm).
• The library. Every once in a while I need to get my dork on.
• The internet. dear Al Gore, thanks for helping me stalk people. Love Berryfine.
• My apartment. It's just me and my nudity whenever I hit the doorway. So delicious.

God, that's a lot of stupid, material shit to be thankful for. Your turn, what ridiculous shit are you thankful for that you're too embarrassed to say at the dinner table today? Don't worry, I won't judge.

And We're Back in Shambles!

So Shambles took a job at a small company, assuring them (after speaking with Todd Noble at Mccart Insurance) that I could get insurance coverage. Apparently, a month after I start my job I find out this is not the case.

Interesting. Glad Obamacare is going so well. So well that someone like me who goes to the doctor once a year cannot get health insurance.

Dear Berryfine,

This letter is in response to your inquiry regarding the recent declination of your application for individual coverage with CoventryOne.

Unfortunately, we were unable to offer coverage on you due to history of borderline hypertension with no follow up or blood pressure readings since starting medication in May 2009. The source of this information was medical records from Dr. William Bostock.

The decision is based strictly on insurance risk, not a clinical viewpoint.

Sincerely,

CoventryOne

Individual Medical Underwriting/lss

Background:

In May of 2009, my gynecologist said she was not going to continue prescribing birth control because she thought my blood pressure was too high. She insisted I see a doctor. So I called Dr. Bostock and ended up seeing one of his NPs. She laughed at my gynecologist but prescribed me with the LOWEST dose of medication and sent me home. She asked me to fax her some blood pressure readings before and after I began the medication. I did so and she told me there was no need for me to come back in. So I took the meds for 3 months

, monitored my blood pressure. Once I went off, I monitored it for a few weeks and there was no change. I figured this was the end of it. I'm not on birth control and I haven't been to a doctor since May 2009. I've lost almost 20 lbs, I run every day, I eat healthy (for the most part) and I drink. Never had a problem with health insurance until now.

My thoughts:

1. CoventryOne doesn't allow me to appeal. Which is bullshit. There is absolutely no reason not to allow me to provide my own notes and lab results that show when I spoke with my doctor and what she told me.

2. It pisses me the fuck off that something that my doctor didn't think was even an issue but just a cautionary reaction to another doctor is preventing me from getting healthcare coverage. My medical history includes this incident and one hospitalization back in 2003. Other than that, I am RARELY sick, haven't had the flu in over 10 years and go to the doctor only for yearly visits.

3. There are some fat fucks out there who gorge themselves on eve

rything, have a history of health problems and a ridiculous amount of pre-existing conditions and those assholes get coverage. On the other hand, someone who monitors her health and lost weight because of a warning from her doctor cannot get health insurance.

4. Oh wait, if I was hispanic I would be able to get FREE coverage when I went into the hospital.

5. I really love that I have spent a ridiculous amount on healthcare coverage and NOT USED it for anything other than check ups and I can't get health insurance. This makes a lot of sense to me.

6. Back to Coventry, they also don't provide a phone number, took over a month to get me a response and have basically made it so that when I do secure some sort of health insurance I will have a pre-existing clause (cause God knows, they'll find a

way around Obamacare's thoughts on that).

7. Mccart Insurance- thanks for your stellar follow up and customer service. The fact that I have had to call you and email you multiple times before getting a response is fucking ridiculous. No one answers your phone calls and your emails just

get pushed around. Thanks for your shitty service buddy.

And in case you were wondering, I'm fairly certain my blood pressure is off the fucking charts right now. Nice work.

Twitter Tuesday

So Barbie made me feel bad about letting this slide. To be honest, I didn't think anyone actually took my advice on who to follow so I just said Peace bitches. But I'm bringing it back. I would love it if some of you let me know who you like, what your favorite tweets are and if you actually want me to keep sharing.

Anyway, in keeping with my theme of WOW I'M GROWING UP! I've found someone else who loves their job. So much so they use Twitter to share their hatred for life between the hours of 9-5. Check out @cubicletweets for a few good laughs and to commiserate about how shitty work really is.

• I sure am happy my college degree allows me to do things like put labels on dividers and fax things.
• assualt isn't a crime if they had it coming right?
• thanks to your face, I no longer have an appetite.
• I actually prefer that no one asks me what my weekend plans are. If they did, I would have to inquire about there's and I don't care.
• If I set myself on fire, would anyone notice?
• I'm all for donating clothes to poor families, but you all have terrible fashion sense and I don't trust your judgement.
• I think you should get out of my personal space. I have a full cup of very hot coffee that could "accidentally" get thrown in your face.
• Let me tell you how much I love my job, oh wait, I fucking don't so I can't.
• I'm so happy that I can do all your work for you so you can eat M&Ms.
• The woman in the cubicle next to me just said, "it was too big to fit in my box." It's gems like that that make me happy.
• Things I hate: work. Things I love: not working.
• I'm sorry I can't understand you when your heads all the way up our bosses ass.
• I was a damn fool for thinking today could be different.
• Warning: final 30 minutes of the workday may cause suicide.
• To everyone that enjoys their job, fuck you.

Yeah, we're pretty much on the same page here buddy. Please don't commit suicide or I'll have nothing left to live for.

Monday Musings

• Apparently, even after parsing through my clothes 8 billion times I still have too many clothes. So here I am again, on a Monday night, cleaning out my clothes again. Seriously, bitch, you're never gonna be that skinny again so chuck the fucking skank clothes already. One of these days that will work. Today is not that day.
• Why don't I wear sweat pants more often? Seriously, it's the most comfortable shit out there and yet I never wear them. I miss living in Jersey where it was perfectly acceptable to go to the bar in sweats at least once a week.
• Why is it no matter how hard I try, my fucking room is a disaster. My apartment is a metaphor for my life. A MESS. And the more I try to get my act together, the messier the apartment gets. It's like all the effort I put into growing up sucks the energy right out of me. By the time the work day ends, it's over.
• This visualize success thing is crap. If it did ANYTHING, I would be famous, successful, married and HAPPY. As it is, no one knows me, I'm not successful, I'm single and I'm only seemingly happy until the booze wears off. But it is definitely not for lack of trying as I spend a majority of my life envisioning something completely different than my reality. Starting with being skinny. And toned. And not sitting at a desk filing paperwork all damn day.
• For those of you unaware, I have two tattoos. One is in my pants and the other in my shoe. One my mom knows about, the other she does not. One I love and the other I regret whenever I want to wear my suit skirt or have to try to figure out how I'm hiding it from my mom when I go over the her house. What a stupid idea. And a drunken one at that.
• I need to make another change. But I'm not sure what. My hair? My weight (fat chance)? My job (a month in and I'm already contemplating)? My friends? My charity work? My locale? All things I have been thinking about recently. Things that need adjusting. Whew I'm exhausted just listing them.
• I think I need to make a 2011 bucket list. Not sure what will go in said bucket but I need some things to aspire to.
• Scrooge Moment: I know it's the holidays and it's all about giving but JESUS CHRIST YOU ASSHOLES I AM BROKE. Not to mention, not one of you donated to my race in the summer so I'm a little confused as to why you think I NEED TO DONATE TO YOUR CAUSE. Giving is a year round thing and not just a oh look booze with a cause! thing. That being said, I will attend some charity events this Christmas but don't be offended if yours is not one of them. Be happy that other people are attending and content yourself with the fact that I donate to causes all year and am tapped out by December.
• Statistics are the stupidest thing in sports. For instance, today I saw on someone's facebook status, "The top 5 SEC West teams are 34-1 against everyone but themselves." Ummmmmmm....what the fuck does that even mean? You basically took out ONE FUCKING team that probably dragged that stat down. Stats don't mean shit if you're randomly leaving things out. There are 12 teams in the SEC, 6 in the SEC West. You took the shitty team out so that you could inflate your ego. Fucking retarded. Anyone can manipulate stats to reflect what they are looking for. Also, like Verizon and AT&T both being number one. Number one in what? One of them is in coverage and the other in speed. But just to let you know how great AT&T's coverage is, they tell you in a commercial that they cover 97% of Americans. You might think this means 97% of America is on AT&T and think to yourself, holy shit! But no, friends. It means they can offer coverage in 97% of the United States.
• Why do people gush about their significant others on facebook? I don't give a fuck how blissfully happy you are. In fact, you're just asking for me to root for you to fail. And my guess is, you aren't happy. You just want everyone else to think you are.
• I'm still obsessed with the Randy Moss One Clap video. Mo this Mo that Mo this Mo that.
• Dear everyone, I'm broke. Stop asking me to do things that cost money. Dear self, stop fucking spending it on pointless shit.
• I love Victoria's Secret. Even fat people feel sexier in it.
• I need a coat rack.
• I need to go to more sporting events. Even when I don't like the teams, I like the games. Maybe I need to pick a city and like all the teams in the city. That might be helpful. Apparently, living in Atlanta and being a Pats and Yankees fan is not helping. Though I am close to hoping on the Falcons wagon- so much energy and excitement. Not to mention Samuel L Jackson.
• I could clothe a small village and yet I have nothing to wear. Ever. Even I don't understand how that works.
• I'm a really big bitch. Especially right now. I don't know what it is but I have no patience for stupidity. Or comparisons. I am not like anyone you know. I'm not like you. Stop pretending I am. Where is that coming from!?!?!?! Even I hate myself when I'm bitchy.
• Sometimes I wonder what kind of person I would be if I had gone to church on Sundays. Boring. But maybe married. And happy with the lot life gave me because it's in God's plans or some shit. Sigh.
• I'm going to drink a glass of wine and pretend a very attractive guy is on his way over. This seems to temporarily cure what ales me.

Worst Maid of Honor Ever.

Barbie: WATCH THE FUCK OUT.

There, you've been warned. Now, if I (or God) somehow fuck this up, it is not my fault. You went into this with your eyes WIDE open.

Anyway, Saturday my best friend in the whole world got married. And decided she wanted, no needed, me to be a part of her special day. I had a great intentions, I swear. But life, God, her friends....they had other ideas. But let's fast forward to the wedding weekend, itself.

The wedding day dawned nice and sunny. I went for a run (see, less shambles), showered and headed to the store to pick up a gift for Barbie's wedding. Then I headed to the Aveda Institute.

Where I lost 5 fucking hours of my life. No big... I didn't want to enjoy any part of my Saturday. Especially, the part where the DAWGS were playing a fucking football game.

Afterward, I swung by my apt to pick up my overnight bag (shack bag if you will. Never know where you'll end up on wedding night) and my bridesmaid dress and then

began the 30 minute trek to the bride's house. The rest of the bridesmaid's were there getting ready already since they rode with the bride from the Aveda Institute.

So I'm cruising down Buford Highway (also known as illegal road. If you don't get this then you're denser than me). And I'm thinking to myself how much weddings suck. And how much it sucks to be sober at 4 pm on game day. And suddenly... like a mirage in the desert (oasis maybe) there it is...

TOWER LIQUORS.

What's a girl to do?

Well, I have no idea what the answer to that is, but this bitch swung a right into the parking lot and beat a hasty path to the nearest pint of Jack Daniels. Side note: that is a serious fucking website. I may never go to another liquor store. EVER. So after paying $13 bucks for a pint of JD I haul ass back out to my car, sling my bag into my car and shove the key into the ignition. Turn it.

Nothing. No lights. No noise. NOT A GODDAMN THING.

Pop the hood (what the fuck is that going to do? I don't know but it was helping to keep me from panicking).

A Polish couple walking by stops and takes a look. Tells me to go inside and get a coke. Corrosion or some shit?

This leads to me having a fucking meltdown in Tower liquors over fucking chips and coke. Apparently, me crying will not get me JUST a can of coke unless I have 78 cents. Fuck you check out lady and your idiotic inability to tell me what I could buy to take me up to $3.50 which is your minimum. Here's a thought you dumbfuck: LIQUOR. In a bottle. Someone should fire you.

Anyway the Polish guy pours the coke on the battery. I try to start the car. Still NOTHING. Well, shit. Now I am crying (wearing my shades to semi-hide this fact of course). Now a hispanic guy pulls his hoss of a truck next to me and tries to jump my car.

STILL NOTHING.

And the manager tries his hand at helping me. Only to find a very pissed off, crying bridesmaid who does not want to run through coke and jumping all over again. Finally, he realizes he can walk over to Firestone and "want I should arrange a battery for you?" Why, yes, yes I would like this. Why did no one fucking mention the Firestone 45 minutes ago?!?!?!

The Firestone guy comes over, charges my battery and has me pull my car into Firestone. "Ten minutes, tops," he tells me.

Then, suddenly, he sighs. Loudly.

HE DOESN'T HAVE MY DAMN BATTERY. He sends me two miles down the road to Autozone. Now, on the way there I start to wonder, what will I do while I go in and get my battery? Leave the car running? Because every time the car stops, it dies. And it sputters on left turns so now I'm nervous. I start scrolling through my phone.

Mom is at the lake. Step Dad is in rehab. Dad is in New Jersey. Brother is at work. Oh look...I'm single. My guy friends are drunk watching the UGA game. The Bride didn't bother to tell her father (a 40 year employee of fucking GM) that my car was dead. And then a light goes on over my head.

"Hi, Matt? What are you doing?"

Did I mention I'm a user? Matt is a friend of mine from high school. He is married. He went to Tech (I know, it bothers me too). He happens to know a couple of things about cars. He is not busy. So I cry my story out to him.

Matt says he will meet me at home after the wedding and get me a new battery. Just get to the wedding. So I pull a UTurn in front of a cop too lazy to care and head to the venue. Two miles from the damn venue my car lights up to tell me I have no fucking gas. So I call Matt and tell him the latest....

My life truly is in shambles.

How did this turn out?

Well, I pulled up to the venue and started getting my shit out. The Best Man and Groom pull up and we pass around my bottle of JD (Did I mention I'm late?). I head into the venue, take 5 minutes to slap makeup on, shove pins in my shit show of a hair style and another 15 to get into the damn dress. Which wouldn't zip.

Matt came to the venue and during the wedding fixed my car and put gas into it. All's well that ends well.

I really am a user.

Saturday Scramble

And not just because I'm having scrambled egg whites for breakfast!

• Today my very best friend in the whole world is getting married. She and her Marine fiancee have been together for almost 7 years now. She is sweet as can be and he is kind of a sarcastic ass so they balance each other really well. Of course, I'm the Maid of Honor. Have I done anything toward my speech. Nope. I asked the best man if he had written his and he told me he was just winging it. The bride is VERY nervous about what the two of us will say....and with good reason. According to her, we are basically the same wild, crazy, drunken person. It definitely does not bode well that I arrived late to the rehearsal (I've been in 9 weddings. I think I can handle it) and he told me he was counting on me to keep him in line during the wedding. To which I responded, "That's what your wife is for buddy." Also bothersome to the bride and groom was the groomsman and brother of the bride asking me to come out with them last night for the bachelor party. So I stayed in. Sigh.
• Got up this morning and went on an awesome 3.5 mile run. It was probably pretty slow since it involved some hills but it was a chilly 37 degrees with the sun out and the roads were quiet. Decked out in my Nike gear (sidenote, theyought to sponsor me. Not just hardcore athletes wear their shit you know. They need an everyperson. I am that person), I felt perfect. That Nike jacket I obsessed over last year is definitely the best investment I've ever made. In fact, I saw new colors and I want them now as well.
  

• Me in my Nike Gloves and Jacket before my run!
• Tomorrow is Barbie's engagement party. An monogram party. What the fuck is with Southern people and themed wedding gigs? Why do you need 8 million showers and opportunities for gifts? In her defense, Barbie isn't that kind of bride (she actually kind of doesn't even want this party!). But if you're going to throw a monogram party, give your guests more than 2 weeks to scramble to find gifts. I have this thing called a life and I can't just go find monogrammed shit. You have to get it made. Thanks to Swoozie's for putting a rush on her gift for me! Whew.
• This week has truly been a good week. I'm feeling very adult and in control of myself. Aside from the apartment being a wreck, I feel like I've got a handle on life. As in I'm treading water now instead of drowning.
• Wish me luck- weekends are typically when I fall off the healthy living train and have to wait for the next train to come around! I've lost about 5 lbs this week just from adjusting my eating (actually eating MORE but healthier foods) and squeezing in a quick 2 mile run each day.

159.6

Back under 160?!?!?! In a week! Shows what a 2 mile run a day and six small meals of good food will do for you!

Morning Run Whoo!

Yesterday was a great success. I woke up and made myself egg whites with feta cheese, at 10 am I had a protein shake, for lunch I hit the gym for a weight workout (which I am FEELING today), then I followed it up with a turkey and cheese sandwich, at 4 pm I had some yogurt. After work I hit up Kroger and picked up eggs, milk, orange juice, cucumber, tomato, romaine lettuce, bread, strawberries, celery and turkey. Came home, did a 2 mile fun run. I decided this week, I will not time a single run. I will just get out there and do 2 miles and enjoy it. No pressure to run a good time. Just a week of solid short runs to get myself back into the grind. I had chicken and pasta for dinner with 2 pieces of chocolate and a glass of milk. Bedtime. Boom.

I felt great this morning. I woke up before the alarm clock! N

ormally, I would have lazed around in bed but I couldn't even doze so I hopped out of bed and threw on running clothes... INCLUDING....

MY BRAND NEW NIKE GLOVES!

Aren't they fantastic? And twelve bucks at the Nike Store in the mall near me (which I would like to LIVE in if possible). I'm sure the people passing me thought I was crazy as I ran down Peachtree in my long sleeved shirt, shorts and gloves but I felt fantastic! My hands were a little warm after a mile but much better than FREEZING like they have been in the past. I am glad I finally bit the bullet since 40 degrees is a little too cold to not have gloves.

I followed up my run with 20 pushups. Okay they weren't the best but they were done. I did them on my feet instead of knees and got them done. I'm hoping to build up to GREAT pushups.

Tell me, what are you excited about this week? I'm excited about my renewed motivation and to be blogging again. I am loving the comments back to me and am enjoying logging everything on dailymile.

Crazy, insane Sex Dream

So I am not someone who EVER remembers their dreams. In fact, I've only remembered three dreams total and two of them actually happened a day later. You can imagine how I felt when the third dream involved me giving birth. So far...it has not happened. I don't think my apartment has enough wood for me to knock on but I'm trying.

Anyway, the other night...ahem, morning, I woke up DRENCHED in sweat and tangled up in my sheets. I was panting like I had just run a half marathon. I felt loose. And relaxed but my heart was racing.

Like I had just had an orgasm.

A really fucking fantastic orgasm at that.

What I had was a damn sleepgasm. I have no idea if that is an actual word or not but I'm using it to describe the orgasm my body apparently had while it dreamt about sex I'm not having.

Strangely enough, it wasn't a dream about anybody I normally fantasize about. It wasn't about anyone I've featured on the blog. It wasn't about anyone REAL. Or if he is real, I haven't met him yet. Also strange, was that he wasn't like any guy I've dated or fantasized about or slept with. Remember when I discussed dating United Colors of Benetton style? Well, this guy definitely fit this profile.

He was tall. Dark skin, hair and eyes. Chiseled. I MEAN CHISELED. I'm an arms girl, myself but in my dream I spent an inordinate amount of time admiring his abs with my eyes, my hands and my mouth. WOW, maybe it's because I've never been with a washboard abs kind of guy but it was HOT in my dream.

The dream was vivid. I could taste the salt on his skin. I could feel the push and pull of his muscles under my fingers and his mouth as it feathered over my skin. And the smell. You know sex has a scent. I could feel the softness of the bed and the sheets. And I remember vividly how hot the sex was. The guy was insatiable which is great since I tend to be the same. There were positions I have never even imagined trying out.

So am I alone here? I keep hoping it will happen again but so far, no dice. I have no idea how it came about but I imagine I'll keep trying to find it again.

You Have To Do Things You Don't Like

My little sister is a competitive swimmer. She specializes in backstroke and travels around the southeast competing against other phenomenal swimmers. One of her teammates is now at UGA swimming for the olympic coach. He has swam against Michael Phelps and traveled to Ireland to compete. My sister would like to do the same.

Unfortunately, my sister is the opposite of me. She is too tiny and struggles to gain weight.

This past weekend she had a meet at the University of Tennessee and she didn't do as well as she hoped. She still made a state cut for an event that she doesn't specialize in and she stayed on top of her best times (side note: they don't know what a pr is. I have to explain it to them every time I go to a meet. It's best times in their world). My mom and I were talking about what she will have to do to get to the next level.

Basically, a lot of things she doesn't like. Eating six meals a day of foods she doesn't like. Stocking up on protein. Drinking shakes throughout the day. Doing extra workouts to strengthen up.

Talk turned to my little brother. He is 24 and finishing up school while working at a sporting goods store. Like me, he is overweight. His blood pressure might as well say, YOU'RE GOING TO DIE ANY DAY NOW. On top of that, Friday, he was diagnosed with Colitis. They've given him a ridiculously high-priced medication and he'll have to adjust his diet. Eat more veggies and fruits. Steer clear of dairy products. No more junk food. In essence, a lot of things he doesn't like.

And a light bulb went on. I may not like what I'm eating. I will not enjoy seeing other people eat junk while I eat fruits, veggies, proteins....while I only eat fist-sized servings and they eat everything in sight. I have to stop comparing my results to others. I am not the same as the skinny bitch eating a large pizza by herself. I am me and it will take something different to get healthy and get to a healthy weight.

The Weekend of Gluttony

Friday Night was happy hour at Gordon Biersch where I had two delicious, frothy red cocktails that tasted like Raspberries and two beers. I followed that up with Crab Rangoon from my favorite chinese restaurant as well as General Tso's chicken and washed it down with another beer. Then I passed the fuck out like I was in a coma.

I got up Saturday and hit the old gym. I was later than I intended but still had a chance to see my boyfriend the gym crush. Which immediately made me regret my choice of shorts and a t and also all the food from last night because my face looked pretty damn round. I followed this up with a shower and some crackers and cheese. My friend Ashley picked me up and we headed to watch the game where I attacked cheese dip and chips like it was my last meal. I washed it down with 5 beers. Home again, nap and The League while I harrassed my brother and then filched to cheese rolls off the dinner he was making his girlfriend. Washed it down with another beer. Got dressed with clothes out of my mom's closet and headed out for mexican. I devoured more cheese dip and chips, two margaritas (texas please!) and Sal's special which is like eleventy billion calories. Then out to the bar for two more beers and home to bed.

Sunday was planned. I slept in so no work out but Falcons game, what what!?!?!?! Sideline passes which were AHMAZING. Split nachos with my friend Shannon, downed 2 beers. Then switched it up to some liquor drinks. After the game, headed out for drinks with one of the staff members of Falcons team and had pizza and beers with him. Got home, starving and ate McDonald's. I am out of control.

Clearly I was not hungry this morning because my stomach wanted to explode. I cannot imagine why.

WHERE THE FUCK HAVE I BEEN?

Busy.

But that will change next week, I swear. I'm getting organized. I'm planning and plotting and scheduling. And getting back on the healthy living train so I can start this whole thing over.

What the hell do you mean, start this whole thing over, Berryfine?

Well, bloggy pals, I got on the scale this morning.

The results made me sad. Sadder yet was looking into the mirror and realizing the scale was definitely not broken. I have the belly of a Botecelli painting to prove it. Sorry art world peeps, its not as attractive in real time as it is on canvas. And let's not even mention how unattractive it gets with clothing.

Okay, actually, yes, let's discuss how unattractive it is to have fucking muffin top creeping out over the sides. It's like your pelvis is vomiting fat rolls. Wow, that is an image for you. But seriously, if you have the muffin top, it is in no way as attractive as that muffin you eye in starbucks. In fact, cover that muffin in your ill-fitting clothing in your head. Bet you walk away from said muffin (you're welcome if I saved that pastry from going right to your thighs). Anyway, also, it's unattractive after a day of sitting in the wrapping- in this case your (my) clothing. There are indentations where your jeans dug in to stay up over your ass and into your stomach. And oh look! A button mark! Hurray, you're wearing Anne Taylor Loft pants and now we all know it! The stitching lines down the side are also especially attractive. Nothing like looking like the bride of frankenstein when you shed your clothing.

Trust me, guys love it.

So to take one from my mom's playbook: Starting Monday (only in her world there is always a starting Monday- mind you she weighs like maybe 120 lbs) I will get back on the healthy living train. This weekend, I will enjoy a shit ton of crap (but still work out) and on Monday...well, getting back on track starts.

I bet you thought I would leave you without the magical number on the scale? Well, I'm an open-book so here you go...when I was may heaviest (January 2010). I weighed in at 175. The lightest this year (June 2010) I weighed in at 152.Today I weigh in at....

164

Still under my heaviest but I want to nip this in the bud. So, here goes. Leave me some encouragement. Also, since I said I was an open book, ask me anything you want to know about how I got to this weight, the journey, my habits, whatever. I'll answer them in the ensuing posts.

Fleeting Thought Friday

• My blackberry is going apeshit today. If it is internet related, my backberry refuses to do it. No facebook, no twitter, no email. NO BBM. How the hell can I get through my day without these things? Oh...right...work. Damnit.
• Speaking of work...life in shambles life is a little less in shambles as she got a new J-O-B. Which is why I have been M-I-A. Still the same old dork you know and love though. Clearly.
• Not to worry in the past two weeks I have thrown a bachelorette party and had an epic halloween. So, never fear my dears, I'm still getting hammered at every opportunity.
• This is going to sound racist but you know what? I don't care. Okay, I kind of care. But I have to tell someone. You know how you go into a Mexican restaurant and you hear the crazy-ass music playing? And on top of that, sometimes the mariachi band swings by? And you know how you think to yourself, "This cannot be what they listen to. It has to be over exaggerated for us." I'm here to tell you otherwise. It is in fact what they listen to as loudly as possible. The best is when they work on their monster diesel trucks with the music blaring over the sound of the engine. They get confused when you ask them to turn it down. Apparently, they are just sharing with me and I should be appreciative. Guess what? I'm NOT. End racist rant.
• I have a hole in my sock. The big toe is poking out. It is really annoying. How did I even get a hole in the toe in the first place?
• It took me all damn week to come up with these. Is this what they mean by getting old? They mean you are slow as fuck and lacking wit. Cause I don't want it.
• On accident this morning I blasted FUCK THA POLICE. Hope my bitch-ass neighbor enjoyed that. Especially since I am fairly certain she has a rocking chair above my bed. It's the only explanation I can come up with. Can't turn it off.
• The Randy Moss Remix video is my favorite video this week.
• Also, I went into facebook overdrive this morning after deciding 40 degrees is way to cold to run in. So I blasted the world with terrific videos. Sucks for you if we aren't facebook friends. You know you're jealous.
• I think I am going to take this weekend off from being me. Not quite sure how one does that but I'm giving it a shot.
• I will never NOT be an alcoholic (you are welcome). You see, everyone has these expectations of me. And when I don't perform then I feel guilty. So then I go into overdrive. I know for a fact several people have invited me to be in their weddings or come to their bachelorette parties because I'm the fun one. It's a lot of pressure. I have to be on point. Raunchy jokes have to roll off the tongue and the throat has to be open at all times for shots (of cum...zing. Christ I'm even performing here). Every time I start to sober up or say I'm the driver, I feel the collective internal sigh and then I have to take a drink. And tweet. And text. And call. And dance. God, I just have to dance.
• I love making tags for this shit and coming across the shit I picked last time. Or didn't think of and should have. Sometimes I really am an idiot.
• I also strongly believe if I got married I would break a lot of hearts. Not because I'm a slut. Or because guys want to bang me and I'd be off the market. But because could I be as funny talking about my hubs and how he wears his socks to bed, consistently misses the toilet, is balding and calls me MAMA in bed? Wait...that is kind of funny.
• Do you ever think things ONLY happen to you? Well, you're wrong. If it's shitty, it has happen to me. I can almost guarantee you that there are things that have only happened to me, though. So stop feeling sorry for yourself.
• I might be an asshole but I really think this bullying thing is getting out of hand. And before you assume berryfine was never made fun of me...well, I wore glasses and headgear to school in fifth grade. Trust me, bitches, I was made fun of. That's where the funny comes from. A dark place in my soul. This goes back to the everyone is a winner thing. Why is everyone on that bandwagon? These kids get out into reality and their worlds collapse inward at an alarming rate they aren't prepared for because Mommy and Daddy told them they were WINNERS and no one ever called them porker when they downed too much food at lunch. Which is why porker is now fat and lazy and only a winner at video games. I'm semi proof of this. I'm the fat and lazy part. I don't win video games. Or much else for that matter. And I'm doing stellar, just stellar, y'all.
• I think the thing that pisses me off is the bandwagon ohmygodsomeonegotbullied?metoo!iwassoprettyeveryonehatedme. Shut the fuck up you skinny, multi-millionaire bitch. And this it gets better campaign? you know what? I bet there are people out there that could contradict that in a fucking heartbeat. So you, on your high horse, doing your awesome things can stop telling us it does.
• Whew, I'm exhausted now.

Twitter Tuesday.

I am bringing back an oldie that the real owner of this blog has not done recently {in her defense I don't think she has done much of anything unrelated to work lately}. I found this individual as I was laying in bed last night and I am a HUGE fan.  Allow me to introduce you to @cubicletweets and here are a few of my favorites....

• I would transfer you to her voicemail but then I have to press like two buttons and then talk to someone and I just don't want to do that.
• Since the water cooler is broken, I just might die of dehydration and lack of office gossip.
• I am only 2 hours into the 46 hour work week and I already want to shoot myself
• i think i just had a cubicle induced panic attack. that's grounds for going home right?
• my phone is about to die. they're are annoying people in costumes everywhere. i need a cigarette. i'm sick. i can't drink. i hate my life
• I'm using @foursquare for the first time and it says my office isn't showing up as a location. My search term is Hell. Can anyone help me?
• You know that urban legend about the dog in the microwave? Yeah that's what the microwave in our fucking office looks like.
•    My fucking desk is fucking stressing me out.
•    This office is a cesspool of disease and bad fashion.
• You have been talking about apple pie for 34 minutes. I've been timing you. Its been 34 fucking minutes. Now 35. 35 minutes
•    i don't want to hear about your vacation. actually, i don't even want to hear you talk.
• a bird just landed on a tree outside my window, looked at me and then took off and i thought to myself, "you lucky son of a bitch."
•    i really didn't think it was possible for me to hate something more than Monday, but Tuesday, you're really making progress
• The last 5 minutes of the work week has got to be similar to water boarding at Guantanamo Bay.

I really could go on for awhile, but I will stop.  And no, this in no way reflects how I feel about my job... I just found him/her to be entertaining