Distractions, distractions.

So, I has a little secret.

Okay, not a secret per se, but I'm not one to advertise my personal life (this is where you, the reader, go "wait.. Aren't you a blogger?"). Seriously though, I tend to keep my mouth shut and keyboard quiet when it comes to the love life. But yeah, I've been seeing someone. And it's been good, and continues to be good.  For the sake of considering the privacy of others, I'll leave it at that.

I will, however, say that it's been distracting. Sometimes in a good way. On one hand, I've been absolutely negligent in my tracking and weighing in. Terribly, terribly negligent.. I logged onto my MyFitnessPal account for the first time in about a week this past Monday. My bi-weekly Just Dance dates have been sporadic and I'm pretty sure that's mostly my fault.

However when I weighed in on Monday, I was down 0.8 lbs from my last weigh-in. So that's good. The upside, weight-loss wise, has been less opportunities for boredom eating, especially as I don't tend to snack as much when there are people around.  And more.. Um.. How to put this delicately? More activity.

*whistles nonchalantly*

Where were we?  Right.

I've been told of a phenomenon that sometimes occurs with people in new relationships.. it's called Happy Fat™.  Sometimes caused by an uptick of dinners out, an increase of niceties like wine.. (dear God, the wine..)

In case you haven't picked up on this.

...and a greater sense of not giving a shit because, hell, life is good so let's enjoy it and I'm not going to beat myself up over an extra treat here or there and who am I to turn down this lovely meal that has been made for me? I'm glad that said person in question is aware of my efforts and takes this into consideration when being so considerate.  This may be one of the reasons I have not, thus far, fallen into the Happy Fat™ trap, along with the lack of boredom eating and well.. *koff*

So I'm trying to make a point of tracking as I should and even if I end up saying "Screw it!" by the end of the day, I'll wake up and try again.

For me.

Eating Out is a Bitch

Hahaha! 

Weekends are a double-edged sword. What I mean by that is, of course I love the weekends because it means that the husband is off from work and we can hang out and do what married couples normally do. For example: Trying new restaurants. Yeah. You guessed it! This is where the sucky side of the sword comes in.

I love, love, love eating out. It's such a cool thing to be served, isn't it? They do all the work and you just sit there and enjoy what they've created on your plate. I was a server for a short time. I am also without a doubt the worst server on the planet. I have zero upper body strength to carry those stupidly heavy trays. I worked in a martini/tapas bar and I can't even remember how many martinis or glasses of wine I dropped. Those fuckers are top-heavy!

This was an awesome movie and I highly recommend it. It's called Waitress.  So good!

Anyway, I have a lot of respect for people in the food industry. I have a lot of family who either currently work in or have worked in the past in a restaurant. It's a tough business. It's not so easy for the girl who's trying to lose weight to be the customer either. They lure me with their cheesy, saucy, ooey, gooey, chocolatey, crispy, meaty, buttery goodness and I'm at their mercy. I bow to you Restaurant Gods. I'm in complete awe of how you do it. I go in with a good attitude. I really do. I intend to only have a grilled piece of chicken or a light salad or some other bland as hell entree they have on the menu. Oh and thanks again, Restaurant Gods for placing approximately 3 items on your menus that are healthy. You rock. Fuckers.


By the time our perky little server named, Lexi (or something else equally bubbly), comes by to take our order, I have somehow transformed into some slobbering, drooling idiot that has completely forgotten about the 3 healthy items and goes for the aforementioned entrees that have absolutely no place in a healthy diet. "I'll have the chicken. Fried. With Gravy. Green beans (yay a little triumph!) and mashed potatoes. OF COURSE I WANT GRAVY, LEXI! Duh!". What the fuck is wrong with me? What happened to ordering one of the 3 items? Am I that fucking weak? Yes. Yes I am. Sigh. I then look at my husband and say something like, "Well, I'll be good tomorrow". I know I'm not the only one that uses that line right? So, we eat our dinner and all the while I'm thinking, "No dessert. No dessert. No dessert". Most of the time I'm good and pass on the dessert that I obviously want. Last weekend? Not so much.

Yes, please!

Lexi: "How is everything?"
Us: "Fine, thanks".
Lexi: "What can I get you for dessert?" You're a sly one, Lexi. I never had a chance against you, did I?
Husband: "Nothing for me, thanks".
Me: "Umm...dessert? Wow. Umm...that's a tough decision there, Lexi. Dessert huh? Sure! Why not? I'll have the Cherry Raspberry Almond Crisp, please. You only live once, right?" Ugh.

Stressed out about the weekend eating much? Why yes, yes I am.

It was totally delicious and it didn't happen exactly like that, but you get the idea. I caved. I rationalized. I sucked. I actually said, "Well, it has fruit in it! That's good right?" Are you kidding me? Geez! How do you resist the things you love so much? I really am usually pretty good about desserts, but it seems like lately I crave them more and more. Why?! Come on, Restaurant Gods! Give a girl a break!