Lauren vs. Mason Country III: The Epic Battle Rages On

The first day the construction crew arrived, I scared them (and myself) by picking up a "shoelace" that turned out to be a mouse tail.

After they left, a SWARM, no, a PLAGUE of pecker gnats (unrelated to Randy, I think) just HAPPENED to show up. Adam said it was just a coincidence. I thought otherwise. I thought the crew stirred up all the dirt, sand and whatever else, and that's where the gnats were previously lurking.

Yesterday, the construction crew was back again. After they left this time, I noticed a trail of red ants marching in time throughout my master bathroom. Upon further examination, they were in every room of the house. Randy says it's the rain. I think otherwise. They stirred up the front porch to pour concrete yesterday, and I'm willing to bet that was the headquarters of Ants Anonymous, Mason County chapter.

This morning (thankfully BEFORE the crew showed up), I went to the garage to get Bella some food. As I made my second scoop into the AIRTIGHT SEALED CONTAINER, I scooped up a dead mouse. Screamed and swearing commenced. This time I only scared the dog.

My attempts to get Adam to come home and dead with the mouse mania were futile. I am sad to report that he laughed at me, said this is what happens in Mason County, there's probably more where that one came from, and to get a dustpan, scoop it up and throw it into the burn pile. Then he laughed some more.

I clicked my heels 3x, but I didn't get anywhere. Assholes.

Back to the "airtight sealed container," the only thing I can figure out is that it actually IS airtight, the mouse was in the container/last bag of dog food, and when we dumped the food bag in, it was smashed under 40 lbs of Iams Healthy Naturals Chicken, and suffocated.

I think this qualifies for FML. If you've never been to http://www.fmylife.com/, I HIGHLY recommend it. http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/ is equally outstanding.

Homonyms are not scary

Homonyms: words that sound the same but are spelled differently. Learn them, live them, love them. It will make life much easier.

There: refers to a location

Their: refers to something/someone's possession of something

They're: contraction meaning they are

Your: refers to the person in question's possesion of something

You're: contraction meaning you are

Two: also known as 2

To: expresses motion/direction

Too: also, as well

Jeans: denim clothing for your legs

Genes: part of your DNA

Horse: animal that competes in the Kentucky Derby

Hoarse: what you sound like after smoking...

Nose: that thing on your face that smells the cookies

Knows: understands, is aware

Hear: what you do with your ears

Here: refers to your location

Yes, I have seen all of these used improperly. Mostly by my former boss at PJS. Maybe this week, I'll explain a little more about my departure from that shit hole.

Weekend Thanks

I'd like to take some time to thank the people I DID see this weekend.

Chad, Brittany, Whitney, Tommy: Thank you for checking out the new house. Thanks also for your support of my blog, it means a lot to know people are reading/care. I'm glad the bullfrog made you laugh as hard as I did. I heart Jenga.

Keri and Randy: Thanks for lunch, and informing me that Babe's takes AMEX. That lit up my world. No joke. Keri, thanks for venturing to the big world of Canton for a pedicure. It's nice to finally have women around who have all their toes. :)

Kim, Katie, Uncle Keith, Aunt Jill: Thanks for coming all the way from PA for a BBQ. It meant a lot to Grandpa, I know. Plus, it was awesome just to see you all again! Sorry the CoMo trip didn't work out. I know what it's like when people refuse to call you back. :)

All Adam's male friends who visited over the past couple weeks: Thanks for actually acknowledging my presence. It's nice to know that you can actually hold a conversation with me when Adam's not around. Believe it or not...there are a lot of people who can't.

Adam's math, part 2

Yesterday, I was trying to clean out the saved list on our DVR. After much searching, I realized that I taped the season finale of The Millionaire Matchmaker at the beginning of the month, but forgot to watch it. As those of you who have a DVR know, you can either tape 1 show or a whole series. By the time we got our DVR, only the finale of The Millionaire Matchmaker was left.
The listing for that episode looked like this:

The Millionaire Matchmaker Thu 5/7 9:00 pm New episode

Adam came in as I was getting ready to watch it and goes, "Hey! You've still got FIVE episodes of that show to watch?"

I didn't get it at first. Knowing I only had one from the get go, I couldn't figure out where he got the 5 episodes from. So I asked.

"5 out of 7 episodes, right there honey!"

"Buddy, that says Thursday, 5/7. As in...May 7th, the day the show taped."

"Oooooh."

At least he can laugh at himself, because it would be kinda mean if I was the only one. :)

Lest anyone get their panties in a twist, I love my husband very much. There are few things I hate more than women who get together and have nothing to talk about except how stupid their husbands are. Since when did that become the cool thing to do? Sounds like a surefire path to becoming an old fucking hag, if you ask me.
These things just fall into my lap, make me laugh, and I write about them. That's it.

WTF is going on around here?

First it was the infamous "shoelace" incident.

Yesterday, we came home from Larry's to a particularly foul smell lurking outside the garage. Bella must have noticed it too because, before we pathetic humans could see where the stench was coming from, Bella ran up to the garage door with a feral dead squirrel in her mouth. LOVELY.

Problem is, Adam threw the squirrel out into the tree line across from our driveway...not 5 minutes later, we were inside and the coyotes seemed REALLY loud all of a sudden. How much ya wanna bet they were in that tree line scarfing squirrel guts? Just great. As if the damn things weren't close enough. 2 weeks ago there was one in the ditch across the street. Those lurking little bastards!

Today, I am forced out of the house because there is yet another mouse problem . A new mouse is in town...visiting the INSIDE of my house...inside of my blanket closet, to be exact. So what do I do instead? Text while mowing the lawn at the old house. I think texting while driving is still ok if you're only driving a lawn mower. Keri says everything is legal in Mason County, so I think I'm ok.

This just in: Adam said I was being cynical. Apparently he has not quite mastered the art of shutting his mouth when he has nothing nice to say. Doesn't everyone want to hear (as soon as your husband walks in the door), "why haven't you cleaned the...I'll shut up now!" He's learning, this one. Slowly, but surely. Sort of like the little engine that could.
Back to cynical me.
After the previous comment about cleaning the raspberries smashed all over the refrigerator, he said I was being cynical. Since I hadn't said anything, I had to ask..."do you even know what cynical means? "

"No."

Welcome to my world.

What the hell was I thinking?!

Let me sum up the past few days and you can all be the judges as to whether I am cut out for this country lifestyle...

Thursday, my in-laws were visiting (with new trees to plant, so my universe pollution has been downgraded to a category go fuck yourself) and wanted to eat at Larry's (can you blame them?).

Off to dinner we went and during dinner, my wonderful, U of I educated, otherwise intelligent husband commented that since he turned 31 this year, it had been 10 years since he was legally able to drink. He mentioned that he'd tried to calculate how many beers he'd consumed over the last 10 legal years, and figured that if he drank a case a week, he'd end up with 48 cases of beer per year... When a few of us questioned how he came to that final total, he said (with a tone clearly indicating WE were all complete idiots) "well, 1 case times 48 weeks in a year = 48 cases of beer." I'm like yeah, buddy, we got that part...where did the 48 weeks come from? He had no idea. "Well, there are 4 weeks per month (still acting like *I* am the moron here), times 12 months in a year...48 weeks." This went on and on until finally his mother had to explain that the correct math would be 365 days divided by 7 days in a week, totalling 52 weeks in a year. He didn't believe her.

"How can there be 5 weeks in a month?"
"Are all the calendars wrong then?"
"I don't believe you!"
"What do you mean not 5 FULL weeks in a month?"
"How do you account for February then? No months have to have SIX weeks to make up for it, so how do you explain that?"
"What about leap years?"

Wow.

I have a sneaking suspicion that his parents may be writing to U of I and asking for some of that tuition money back.

Maybe it wasn't the excess "smart cells" that would cause his brain to burst....


Sunday, we went to Steak n Shake and got into a discussion about where certain fast food chains started out.

Adam: "KFC, you know that one's from the south. Probably like Louisiana or something."
Me: "Or Kentucky..."
Adam: "...ooooooh. Duh. I meant to say Louisville, not Louisiana."
Me: "Right."
Adam: "Don't tell anyone about this, ok?"

Sure thing, sweetie! :)

Fast forward to this morning. I knew we had some construction crews coming to get the area in front of our garage ready for concrete, as well as bringing white rock in for the rest of the driveway.

I heard them show up and went out to see who was doing what and if they needed anything. I remembered the dog was outside, so I tracked her down and tried to drag her into the house. Bella is known for finding all sorts of lovely treasures, especially since previous construction crews have left lots of garbage everywhere. So far she's found 6 week old chocolate milk still in the container (smelled awesome when accidentally run over w/ a truck. Who knew chocolate milk turns pink after awhile?), rusty nails, bricks, old detergent bottles and etc. Today, she ran up to me with a leather shoelace in her mouth. We don't let her bring garbage in the house, so I grabbed the shoelace, pulled it out, and wouldn't you know...it was not a shoelace.

IT WAS A DEAD FUCKING MOUSE.

I dropped the mouse, started screaming, cussing, didn't even realize the construction crew was staring at me until they were right in front of me asking if I was ok. Apparently I was wringing my hands and staring at the ground...still screaming. I can still feel that nasty mouse tail in my hand. GROSS! Needless to say, the construction crew had a good laugh over that one.

Unfortunately, nasty day was not over.

My car was in the way of the construction crew, so I tried to get the dog into the car and move it down the road. She got in, with the dead mouse back in her mouth.

I dragged her and the mouse out of the car, got back in and moved it alone.

She's been puking up undigested dog food for the last 24 hours, so I wanted to make sure she didn't eat anything else, or get in the workers' way, so I started to drag her into the garage, where she promptly started gagging...and coughed up ANOTHER DEAD MOUSE. 4 minutes of screaming and swearing later, the dog and I were finally mouse-free and indoors. She's been whining ever since. Tough shit, puppy.

Has anyone seen my easy button lately? I need it. Or a shot. Whichever you track down first. Please?!

Suck it PJS!

I could go on for hours about the ridiculousness that is the Peoria Journal-Star...but I won't. For now.

This should be enough explanation of my feelings regarding PJS:

http://www.pjstar.com/archive/x1655275182/JS-columnist-radio-personality-arrested-after-alleged-bar-fight

Yeah. It goes without saying that this guy is notorious for being a complete asshole.

Messages from my mother...

This is the first in what is sure to be a long and eventful series of blogs containing voicemails, text messages and emails from my mother. I love my mom...but she often leaves messages from her dog, to my dog and, best of all, from Jane-land (a place where only Jane can understand what they mean).

Yesterday's voicemail:

This is your mother. I know this might not mean anything to you, since you just moved into a new house, but I just want you to know that I just cleaned my pantry, oven and under the refrigerator. Okay, bye!

She's right. It means nothing. Why do I care about your cleaning, and why do you need to leave me a message letting me know that's how you spent your Sunday afternoon?

She also likes to leave messages about her dreams although, in all fairness, a lot of people do that. I still don't understand why, though. Unless your dream is seriously hilarious or straight up wrong...NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR DREAM!!!!! Geez.

Mom always said I should do something with my writing, but I don't think this is quite what she meant... :)

Amazing...

My husband informed me yesterday that he needed to go drink beer in order to kill some brain cells...because if he didn't, his brain would be so full of intelligent cells that it might explode.

This is the same man who, upon finding out his friend recently had to get tri-focals, not only did not know what the difference between bi- and tri-focals was but, even after it was explained to him, said, "wait...so tri-focals have lights on them? That's the difference?"


Wow.



Love him.

Doggy Fashion Don't

At the request of my mother and aunt, I give you: The Eyebrow Fiasco.

My parents watched our golden retriever, Bella, for a few hours over Easter weekend. We had Easter dinner with Adam's family and were set to stay at my parents' house later that night. Everything went as planned, and we arrived at my parents' around 11 pm. Everything was fine. We woke up, went to church, came back to Mom and Dad's and ate lunch. After we got back home that night, I started noticing that something was wrong with Bella. She didn't look right, but I couldn't quite place it. Finally, I realized...her eyebrows had been trimmed...cut, actually, not trimmed. They looked like little white stubs. Now, I will say that they'd been getting a bit long and starting to curl over towards her eyes...but she's a DOG. Who cares about her eyebrows? I knew what her eyebrows looked like before we dropped her off at my parents' house...so that left 2 scissor-wielding culprits.

I placed a phone call to Mom, knowing full well that she probably wasn't the Eyebrow Bandit. When I explained the situation, she had no idea what I was talking about, let alone that someone would even think to cut a dog's eyebrows. We started trying to figure out a timeline as to when the eyebrow escapade even occurred, since the dog wasn't there without me, Adam or Mom around for more than a few hours. We determined that Dad must've been the only one up early Easter morning, seen what he thought was a doggy fashion don't, and "remedied" the situation. As we were about to hang up, Dad came home, and she asked him what he knew about the situation. With the evidence stacked against him he admitted it. He's like, "yeah, I did it. So what? She looked like a crazy professor with those old eyebrows. They needed a trim." Maybe I should send in an application for that dog groomer show on TLC...apparently Dad is the expert. Poor Bella. Thank God he only went after her eyebrows!

Updates!

Have you ever tried to have a garage sale? How about a garage sale while you're still drunk from the night before? Welcome to my Saturday morning. It was not pretty. God bless Jan for coming over and helping out (aka saving my ass)! I forgot to get change, forgot to get a cash box, forgot to set an alarm to wake up and show up...though I miraculously did wake up in time...and the list goes on. Wow. We did make $300 though, so that was awesome...especially considering 95% of the stuff is still there! I guess I'll be having another sale, hopefully a sober one.

I went to Target this afternoon to pick up a bookshelf that my husband INSISTED would fit in the trunk of my Camry last night (nevermind the fact that it's over 6 ft. tall), despite my protests to the contrary...needless to say, I was right. Not really a sweet victory when I'm the one who has to go back to Peoria and pick it up. Whatever. Since I used to work there in high school, there are still several people who recognize me when I stop by. Usually, this is a good thing. Today, one of them asked me if I was pregnant. UNBELIEVABLE! On a positive note, at least they thought I'd put a crib on hold (instead of a bookshelf) and that's why they were asking, but apparently, until I clarified, Target was all abuzz with the status of my ovaries. Target gossip. Some things never change.

Weak stomached individuals (Ty!) stop reading here.

Speaking of my ovaries, I'm now using the ring, and it's not bad at all. Insertion was a little awkward, but not terrible. You truly cannot feel it, which I honestly did not expect. No suicidal thoughts, puking, blood clots, or terrible migraines so far! Thank God. We'll see how the removal goes in a couple weeks. Still think that could be a tad not fun. Oh well.

South Beach did not go super great last week. Still lost .2 lbs...but it should have been more. Perhaps it had something to do with my drunken binge at the Stag. Moron.

I thought I'd seen it all...

Really...I thought I had.

As I mentioned in previous posts, yesterday was L-Day. We all had a great time (my apologies to Ty for an upset stomach over my last post!) but, as we pulled out of the driveway to go home, the MINIVAN lurched to a complete stop.
Let me just lay out the scene here...
We are in a MINIVAN. 7 adults. On a dirt road. It's been raining. The van comes to a complete stop and everyone on the right side of the van is opening the doors and looking out the windows. I hear something about a toad and I'm wondering WTF about a toad would warrant a van stopping in the middle of the road...at which point I committed the ultimate sin and actually voiced this question, only to be told, "it's not a toad!!!!! It's a BULLFROG!"

...I see...

As it turns out, the debate going on on the right side of the minivan was whether someone should get out and take the bullfrog. Keep in mind, none of these people are exactly...animal lovers. Most, in fact, are skilled and avid hunters. So I'm still pondering wtf is going on, when they decide they are NOT going to pick up the bullfrog, because it's been run over by the van. This caused quite a stir, because apparently he wasn't dead yet and would have made excellent frog legs.

That's right. They actually discussed picking up road kill (though the bullfrog technically was not dead yet) for DINNER! I hate to think what the outcome might have been if we'd been pulling in to Larry's, rather than leaving!

I wasn't aware people actually did this. I thought it was one of those redneck jokes that are funny because they don't actually happen to real people with jobs and money. I was mistaken. Color me shocked.

This is a TMI post.

I'm really looking for feedback here, people.

As many of you know, I have a very sporadic period, to say the least. When my last job was really stressing me out, my period stopped for 6 months. That's enough to cause heart palpitations!

I've taken a lot of different pills to fix this problem and none of them seem to work. It all started after 2 years on Yaz. The latest idea is to give me generic progestin to see if that will at least induce a period and, whether it does or not, I basically have 2 choices left.
1. A higher-dose hormone birth control pill (my last one was already higher than Yaz)
2. NuvaRing (aka "the ring") birth control ring

I opted for the ring. My grandma was recently diagnosed w/ stage 4 breast cancer, so I'd like to avoid any extra hormones. I'm still a little apprehensive about the ring though...so those of you who've had it, used it, heard about it...fill me in! I've heard great things, but the whole putting it in and taking it out deal kinda grosses me out...and all the people I know who use it have also always used the applicator-less tampons...so I'm not sure I trust their opinions about how gross/weird it is.

Speaking of weird...the gyno who gave me the ring samples (which come in a little blue clutch, btw - hilarious!) told me they are kept in the fridge, because it prolongs their shelf life, but to make sure I take them out a day in advance so they can warm up, otherwise that could be quite a shock. Can you imagine coming to my house, looking for mustard or something in the fridge, and finding a freakin jelly bracelet looking pack of birth control rings? That thought alone had me laughing for hours. The gyno also told me you can go to the nuvaring website and sign up for them to send you a text or email reminder when it's time to take the ring out after 3 weeks. I'm having flashbacks of college classes where girls set up their phones w/ birth control alarms and they'd go off in the middle of a lecture. In a room of 500 people, it's quite noticeable and, I'd imagine, embarrassing. The worst part was, these bimbos would actually have their backpack AND purse, just so they could carry around the damn birth control pills, and they would actually bust out the pill pack and take one in the middle of class when the damn alarm went off. Not that anyone should be embarrassed about taking birth control, but for crying out loud, I don't want to know which freaking people are taking it and which ones aren't! Can you not leave them at home and take them before bed? Or maybe you're not home at night to take them, sneaky bitches! But I digress...

Anyway, thoughts? Questions? Concerns? Helpful information!?

Moving on down!

199.8! Woohoo! Almost 2 lbs in 2 days; that's pretty good, right?

Today is L-Day (better known as D-Day for most of you). L-Day = Larry's day. Larry's is my favorite local restaurant. They have some food that's actually not bad for you - chicken breasts, salads and burgers - but my main concern is their cheeseballs. Lovely deep-fried, battered, cheese-filled delights w/ a side of homemade ranch. Yum. And, of course, the prerequisite to all meals at Larry's, Captain and Diet Pepsi. Double yum.

I think only fat people can talk about food like this. All the rest of you skinny bitches are probably reading this thinking, "It sounds like she gets a little TOO much enjoyment from this food." And you'd be right. That's why I look the way I do. :)

With that being said, you might think I'd skip Larry's. You'd be wrong. I can pass on the booze...i guess...but I will be eating cheeseballs. Lest this sound like I'm slipping already, let me explain. Aside from the light batter on the cheeseballs...cheese is a-ok on SB Diet. The rest of my normal meal at Larry's consists of salad (no croutons!) and cottage cheese instead of fries...so really, this is one of the places I can actually eat! That's major!

Can't wait to see everyone tonight!

South Beach, Day 1

201.6

TWO HUNDRED ONE POINT SIX POUNDS!

It seems a lot worse when you spell it out.

That is embarrassing.

Now, at the risk that I'm about to offend someone who weighs as much or more than me, let me add this disclaimer:
Any comments made about this number (my weight) are strictly in regards to ME, and should be regarded as such. ME. My height, frame, size, etc. ME. Not anyone else. Me. Ok. :)

Whew. Now I can "tell you how I really feel." Have I mentioned that I think that is one of the dumbest phrases I've ever heard? It annoys me just from a literal standpoint...because whenever someone says "tell me how you really feel," I usually just have. And yes, I get the sarcasm/irony and that that's why people say it. It's still stupid and redundant. Much like this blog some days... :)

So, here's how I really feel:
-Disgusted with myself
-Embarrassed that I let it go this far
-Curious about how long it will take to dump all this weight back off
-Shocked that I have gained 80 pounds since high school graduation. 80. EIGHTY. 8-0. Holy shit! (Granted, as anyone who knew me then can attest, I was so thin that several people thought I might have a problem...so I needed to gain a little weight...guess I took that a little too far, huh?)

I've never read The Secret, but I do believe in the power of positive thinking and "positive self-talk," so I'm done beating myself up about being a lazy fat ass now. :)

In some ways, I'm actually really fortunate that I used to be excruciatingly thin and can remember what it's like. I see so many women who have struggled with weight issues their entire lives, and they have no idea what it's like to have FUN shopping, because things actually fit you, and don't cling to your belly button. (Man does that suck. I am so fucking sick of seeing my belly button through all my shirts, I could scream! There are not enough spanx in the world to hold that sucker in.) Anyway, I imagine it would be extra hard to stay motivated when you have worked so hard for so long and gotten nowhere...especially having no real idea what it's like once you lose the weight. At least I KNOW how much better it will be and can use that to my advantage.

Talking about spanx reminds me...I read an interview with Gwyneth Paltrow after one of her children was born, and she was talking about how she looked so good after having a baby...she was wearing one spanx on top of the other...under EVERY outfit.

Let me reiterate...Gwyneth Paltrow, one of the thinnest women on Earth is wearing two sets of spanx with every outfit. And her photos get airbrushed before we see them. If that doesn't make you feel a little better about yourself, I don't know what will.

Day 2 is coming shortly, pray for me.

Dear Women...

My sister and I went to see Britney Spears at Allstate Arena this past Tuesday. She was awesome! We were pleasantly surprised to see more adults there than teenyboppers. The Pussycat Dolls opened the show and they were great! I'd heard good things from friends who've seen their Vegas show, but this was truly amazing. They even performed a song from Slumdog Millionaire. As for Britney, her concert was everything a person could want in a performance...acrobats, ninjas, muscle men, hula hoop girls, clowns (could've done w/o them!), midgets, music, dancing, singing (and yes, some lip-synching, though, watching how much energy she puts into her dancing, you can hardly blame her) and more! All in all, she put on a hell of a show.

It wasn't all fun and games, however, at the Britney concert. Between the PCD opening performance and Britney's, the woman seated next to me started up a conversation. I'd guess her to be about 35. We chatted for awhile and seemed to be having a normal conversation, right up until she asked me when my baby is due!!!!! Yes, you read that correctly. A COMPLETE STRANGER asked me when my baby is due. Let me just state this for the record (I'll even enlarge it and change the color to be 100% clear, since it is apparently not already obvious...):

I AM NOT NOW, NOR HAVE I EVER BEEN, PREGNANT!

Geez. All the women out there, I know you can relate to how irritating it is to spend forever contemplating your outfit, hair, makeup, shoes, jewelry & etc., only to have someone make a rude and ridiculous comment like that.

The annoyance of having wasted so much time w/ my (clearly not as flattering as I thought) outfit, however, is the least of my worries. First off, I'd like to know how many other people wondered if I was preggo and didn't say anything. Actually, I bet I don't want to know! Secondly, what kind of moron asks a COMPLETE STRANGER if they are pregnant? And for a woman to ask...that's a double dumbass whammy! Seriously...let's just assume for a second that the situation were reversed, and I was the idiot asking this strange woman about the condition of her uterus. What if this woman just had a miscarriage? Just what this poor woman would want, to have to explain to a total stranger that actually, she was pregnant, but lost the baby. Right. What if she has a tumor? (Yes, I actually do know someone who had a tumor and was constantly barraged w/ questions about when she was due.) What if she can't have children? That's probably the ultimate worst-case scenario, but, I have another friend who is having a hard time starting a family, and if someone ever asked her when she was due, I don't think any court would hold her accountable for her actions.

The BEST- (if there can be a best) case scenario is perhaps this woman just carries her weight around the gut and I've just totally embarrassed her, and reminded her that maybe she's not quite as cute as she thought. Back to reality: this is the category I fall into.

I'll admit, I am NOWHERE near my high school graduation weight, nor am I very close to my college graduation weight (graduation was almost 4 yrs ago, for those keeping track). I have been very irresponsible with my food choices, lack of exercise/movement in general. Not that I don't move at all...I will definitely jump once in awhile...for a falling wine glass. :)

What's the point of all this whining? It's time to do something about it. I don't want to be asked again when I'm due until the day comes when I am actually pregnant. And let me tell you...that will be awhile! But hey, at least I know what 60 extra lbs. feels/looks like...and at least then I will have an excuse! :)

This weekend is my last bad-eating, no-exercising, lazy ass weekend. Starting Monday, I will go back to the South Beach Diet, as it has worked well for me in the past (until I totally ignored all the rules!), and I will be monitoring my progress via Growing On Goofy. Please keep up with me and keep me motivated. My theory is, if I'm already embarrassed by my weight, maybe a public announcement of that big nasty number (my current weight) will be enough motivation to stick with this lifestyle change. Adam is joining me on this plan, only via a modified version for lunches, as it's difficult to cook in a tractor. Hopefully this will make things easier for both of us.

So please stay tuned for Monday's starting weight and a little more about my plan to shed it. Don't worry, I promise not to bore anyone with the details of every meal I eat or mile I walk. No one would read it if I blogged about it anyway! I know I wouldn't.

One final note though...especially for all the women reading this...can we all just band together and PROMISE not to ever ask a woman if she's pregnant/when she is due, unless and until you know this person and are 100% positive she is pregnant? It would save a lot of unnecessarily hurt feelings and embarrassment on both sides. Thanks.