I had wine, which is a no-no. John & I went to a party that was BYOB and sorry, I wasn't about to show up with a handle of vodka and holler, "Where all the fun at?!"
Granted (or as my BFF says, granite), I considered mixing up my vodka concoction and taking it over there in one of those tree-hugger aluminum canteens, but then I decided I didn't want to look like a dick, so. Wine it was. Tacky enough that I took one of those industrial sized bottles, and worse that it was only half-full. Yes, I'm classy like that.
Normally I have the tolerance of an Irish steel worker, but on LC, there's nothing to absorb all that goodness, so you get giddy (or whatever your inebriated emotional state is -- bitchy, cage fighter, mean, screw whomever, amnesiac, sad clown, dancing fool, blabbermouth, sink pisser, what have you) all the quicker. This leads to sometimes hilarious behavior, but mostly shit you end up apologizing for the next day. Note to self: you are not a Kennedy. Stop acting like one.
and, because it's funny:
Even before the wine, however, my weight-loss had stalled, which is not surprising. 8lbs is what you're supposed to lose the first two weeks, not the first 5 days. Annnnd I sort of factored in that I couldn't keep up that kind of loss, so really, I've stopped weighing myself every day, which is hard to do. One must also factor in the fun week that mother nature so kindly provides every month, which also doesn't help matters.
The very important point of this is that when you err, you get your fat ass up on the wagon again, even if it's for the 108th time. Tomorrow is a new day and you will start it accordingly, which I did. Coffee. Eggs. Bacon. Even better? I had my cat prepare it for me, so I didn't even have to get up off the couch. (She always makes my bacon just the way I like it -- extra crispy. Was there cat hair in my eggs? Yes. The good news? Cat hair? Carb free.)
When considering what patience I must have with this program, I think about my mother, who might be the worst dieter of all time. First, she's been on a diet ever since I've known her. Second, she expects results immediately. Like, next day.
"What? Damn, I'm up half a pound! I hardly ate yesterday. All I had was a little ol' piece of toast, some coffee and two bites of tuna fish. That's it! Plus, I was out in the yard for an hour picking up branches. I just don't understand this!" Mom loves recounting exactly what she ate and what she considers her physical activity of the day in question, and then becomes indignant when she's not showing a 2lb loss every day. She thinks if you hardly eat and weed the garden, you should drop down a pant size by the following day.
("I went from looking like a cute tubbah guy to looking like a preppy douche! You can, too, in as little as a week!")
Mom's also one of those lo-carb dieter who's...not really a lo-carb dieter. She'll keep the LC bars and shit around -- in addition to the "dairy beverage" milk -- yet, she'll gnaw on crackers later or split a baked potato with Dad for part of her dinner. LC is like what Mr. Miyagi said about karate: "You karate do yes or you karate do no. You karate do guess-so? Squish, just like grape."
Let me Americanize that for you. You decide to do lo-carb? Wicked. You decide not to do lo-carb? Whatevs. You do a little of both? Bloop! Ass gets big, just like hippopotamus.
There's no half-assing LC. You can't fool it. Some people, after the induction period (which is incredibly important) can have up to 40 or 50 carbs a day and still lose weight or at the least, maintain. I can't. My limit's about 30. Anything higher than that and my ass just rambles in neutral.
So. Weight loss or not, there are other things to look at here. John said he thought I looked slimmer this weekend. Bless his sweet heart, he chooses his words carefully, and he does well. And I feel less prego, which rocks. And I feel better. I used to nap every day, and I haven't the past few days. Today was a prime day, and I didn't do it. I cleaned out my closet instead. (Okay, I cleaned out a quarter of it. Better than nothing!)
I will keep on keeping on, because what's the alternative, except blowing puffing up like a toad?
There's not one. I know this is best for me. Results aren't always weight loss. At this point, I'll take feeling better as a good sign too.Take what you get, bitches. Toodles!
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