I am in crunch time! 18 days to go. I have been a good girl, mostly. Sometimes behaving all day means that I should be allowed one, just one, French truffle. And maybe a bite or 2 of ice cream… Well, mostly anyway.
Sunday, I go to the green market and found some delicious veggies and a gentleman who made smoothies from fresh veggies and fruits. So I trot up and say, “Make me whatever you like but I am on a diet and this is lunch.” He starts with a handful of spinach and then throws in some romaine and that’s where I get a little concerned. Liquid salad?… In goes some carrots and a golf ball sized chunk of ginger…. This is exactly what I get when I say make what you like…. “Umm maybe not soooo many vegetables and some fruits would be nice.” There goes my vision of healthy liquid lunch with everything but the umbrella. Naked Me pops up in my head and offers me a Chicken Philly Sub from the next tent as she reclines in my favorite chair with a Sexy Peach martini. Is it so much to ask for a little support from her? I shush her up and focus on the 6’5 250lb beast of a man whipping up my lunch. He replies that vegetables are good for me and throws in a big beet. What the hell color is that!? ….. He finally has some pity on me and tosses in a few shards of citrus. It’s a very frothy khaki colored thick beverage. Bottoms up! I feel full (or slightly ill) from the concoction for about 45 mins and then I am ravenous.
Off we go to try the new Fit Body Bistro that everyone is raving about. You can check out their menu…. Www.fitbodybistro.com I order the Bikini Bod and I am a bit shocked when I see how big 3oz (or small I should say) of tilapia is… I have stepped on Legos bigger than this…. But there is a pile of broccoli and some strawberries and it really is delicious. I would definitely reorder except maybe swap the broccoli for something else because as much as I love broccoli, 6oz of the stuff has it own super powers and that’s a little more than my colon can handle.
Today, my oldest daughter and I decide to try out the P90x class at our club. I haven’t taken a class or had a workout since my accident 16 months ago. So when I am breathing heavier than a prank caller before caller ID, the instructor says, “What do we do when we need to rest?” This is a trick question, right? You know the type where I look like a quitter no matter what I say so I try for a bit of honesty because it’s the best policy or so I have been told. “We pass out?” I offer. She smiles gently and replies,”No, we rest”. Same thing really. Resting is just a little more voluntary. Anyway, it turns out that P90x is just code for the cemetery plot marker where they dump your body when you are done “resting”.
At Costco, I pick up some Prime steak for the boys and a heaping load of fruits and veggies and a new Vitamix blender. I am now so ready to be skinny… In fact why hasn’t it happened yet?.. I have been trying for days! Except for Naked Me shoving a few Truffles down my throat, I have given this all my attention.
My darling husband announces he would like us to go away this weekend. I go through my bathing suit drawer searching for any suitable options when I come across a shocker in the farthest reaches! I have a vague recollection of him buying this tiny red bikini for me before a trip to the islands about a million years ago in my early twenties and it fit! I stare at it in wonder.
He comes in from the office and I hang the bikini off my finger and sassily say, “You are one lucky man! I was a catch!” I mean really…. wit, intelligence and I could fit in this bikini, he should totally sacrifice something to the Gods of Marriage. He gives me a crooked smile and says, “why don’t you go put it on now?” Good feeling gone! Naked Me pops up in my head snickering with that insipid look on her face and suggests, “Yes, Stephanie, why DON’T you TRY to put it on now?” I give her a nasty narrowed eye stare. God, I hate that bitch! I hope she chokes on a hot fudge sundae.
Stay tuned for more dieting fun. If I don’t repost that only means that tomorrow’s Barre class has caused A-Fib and my ultimate demise. Wish me luck and if I croak make sure my husband buries me in my favorite Gucci pumps! Xo