Boobs and P! Power - Scandal and a PSA

In the words of the Commodores - How can she lose those things she use?

In mid-September, I was running errands when one of Plano's finest pulled up behind me and flashed his lights. Le Sigh. I pulled over with a smile on my face, rolled down my window and spoke, "Hi Officer, how's your day going?" He paused and then blinked. "Um, better than yours. You don't have a front license plate, your inspection sticker is out of date and I can't find proof of insurance on this car in the system." I handed him all my documentation, explained about the inspection sticker all the while smiling and chatting about the weather, the Cowboys, the price of gas, whatevs.

"You are the most pleasant traffic stop I've had in a while." He informed me while he typed up $600 worth of fines into his little handheld. 

"Well, no need to make you feel bad about doing your job. Plus I was just headed to Zumba class so it's not like you're totally ruining my day." I brightened the smile and fluttered the lashes. 

"You know what?" He offered, leaning in. He may or may not have been ogling the boobs. "I'm not supposed to do this but let me tell you how you can get almost all of this excused and pay only a tenth of the fine." 

"That would be soooo awesome," I cooed and wrote down every word he said. He thanked me for my pleasant attitude and we went our separate ways. On the day I was supposed to go in and prove I had fixed all the stuff, I clickety-clacked into the Collin County courthouse, stood in line for 52 minutes (with a lot of really cranky people) and finally handed over my paperwork. She typed my name into the computer and looked up. "One second." She made a phone call.

Everyone stared at me like I was about to get Seal Team 6'ed up outta there. Officer Friendly came out from the back and motioned for him to meet me in the lobby. "Hi there!" I waved. He laughed and said, "Let's take a look." We went outside, looked at the car, he signed off on the paperwork. We walked back in and I saluted him, "Thanks for the service, you be careful out there." He walked away shaking his head. No, Officer Friendly was not cute. He was just a guy doing his job who enjoyed not getting cussed out.

When I handed my stuff back to the clerk, old girl said, "That will be $11." I didn't ask any questions, slid a ten and one across the counter. The guy that was behind me in line looked over and announced, "It must be awesome to have boobs." I grinned, "It rocks." He look stunned that I acknowledged that I had flirted my way out of a $600 fine. Then I hotfooted up out of there before somebody changed their mind. 

Last night on Scandal, Papa Pope was livid that Olivia out-maneuvered his nefarious plot to get rid of Jake while shaming Fitz. When he came to confront her at the pool, she calmly removed her goggles and told him that she had weapons at her disposal that he never would. Okay?! Boom-chicka-wow-wow and whatnot.

She basically touted the power of the p! to her daddy. Admirable? No. But totally true. 

Speaking of girl power, ladies - today is the last day of Breast Cancer Awareness month - did you get the girls checked? Medically and professionally, I mean... SMH. Get yo' mammogram on.

Ladies, I would ask if you've ever unleashed the power of p! (or merely exercised your God-given estrogen-powered right to be charming) to get something you wanted but that would be giving away the secret sauce, wouldn't it? Enjoy your weekend.

At what point is enough really enough?

Today's letter comes from Arminta in St. Paul. She and her man Ken have broken up and gotten back together several times over the last decade. 

Hi Chele,

Hope this finds you continuing to be fabulous! I've been reading your blog for a while and I notice you've talked about one guy that you've been in and out of a relationship with for a while until you finally pulled the plug. I've been doing the same thing for a little over ten years. I'm wondering how you knew when it was time to let it go or just hang in? 

I've known Kendrick for years, we were drawn to each other from the start but there was always something off. Timing, circumstances, distance. Finally, we got together and it was awesome. We had a really good four year stretch a few years back that was amazing. We were both invested in each other and spending time until well - to be honest I don't even remember what it was that broke us up that time. Anyway, we've given it a try time and time again. We can't seem to stay away from each other. We've both taken breaks and during our time apart we've met other people. Ken was married briefly, I was engaged briefly, but ultimately we found our way back to each other. 

The thing is, I don't think we ever really fixed some of the things that broke us up before we just kind of gave into the idea of being together and gave it another try. This last go round, I am not feeling it 100%, I don't think he was really in it and we seem to just be marking time instead of moving forward. He's a great guy but I don't think I'm getting the best he has to give. I doubt I'm giving him the best I've got either. But I can't let go of everything we've been to each other and neither can he. Any advice from you and the Bougie group? Thanks, Arminta

Yeah, um. Le Ouch. You're kinda going Roberta Flack on me here - telling my story with your song. But in this case, let my life be your lesson. Get. Out. Now. Damn the love. Sorry. That's harsh but the truth of the matter is - love is NOT enough. More specifically, the dangling promise of some glittery future where your love is golden? Where love conquers all and everything else that is wrong fades to black? Shake it off. That whole push me-pull me, we love each other so deeply so why can't it work out? Run from that. 

All this love and whatnot? Where's the ring? If a man wants to be with you, he will put his all into doing so. He wants you happy. He has plans for the future, he has plans to back up the plans and he makes your happiness and those plans a priority. Won't be all the back and forth. What you two have fallen into is known as a rut. A comfortable rut because you know exactly what you're getting. Your rut is so worn and deep it's now a ditch. What ya'll share may have been great once, now it might be good but either way, you owe it to yourself (and to him) to see what else is out there. Don't dwell in ditches, dance in a field of daisies. Okay, that's uber metaphorical and alliterative to boot but I know you feel me.

Listen, I know all about this. Seems like there's no one else who will get you like he does. Who knows your story and has those shared experiences. That level of ease is seductive as hell. You laugh together, the cocoa is still working. But guess what, there may be someone out there who treats you better, who also gets you and who wants to make new memories with you and he comes history-free. You don't even know how much better life could be until you find yourself living it and all of a sudden it's like - wow! Is this what it's SUPPOSED to be like? Girl, don't get me to preaching. Verily, I say unto thee - get thee gone. One of you has to break the chains, it might as well be you.

To answer your first question? How did I know it was time to abandon ship? I found myself reading over old journals where I was saying and thinking the exact same thing way back then and now. My resolution for this year was no more wasted time. Tomorrow ain't promised and life is too short. 

BougieLand, agree or disagree? Can you talk to Arminta and let her know your thoughts. Anybody know what I'm talking about? Do share...

One year and 86 pounds later...

It's very hard to believe that I ever got to the point where I had over fifty pounds to lose. I had stayed right around the same weight from college to fifteen years later. And then it all started creeping up. Lifestyle more sedentary, hormones battling against me, already slow metabolism laying out in the street doing nada and me whipping up gourmet meals for family, friends, boo things and the like which I, of course, had to taste along the way.

Last year when I made the decision to have weight loss surgery it was the absolute last  resort for me. I was diagnosed pre-diabetic with high blood pressure and a hormone disorder (PCOS). Fifty pounds needed to go, stat! I had tried working out, eating less, counting calories, cutting sugars and salt and fat. I was at one point eating raw vegetables and only drinking water while working out four times a week and still the scale laughed at me. It wasn't until my doctor explained how my overall health and genetic makeup was fighting me and I needed to lose the weight quickly or die (okay, not that drastic but darned close) that I said fine. 

Looking back from the other side of the mountain, I guess I would do it over again but I would pay more attention to classes where they talk to you about the side effects and your ability to come to terms with what a new you is really about. The first fifty pounds came off in the first three months and it's a shock to your entire system. My hair (my crowing glory) thinned and fell out. When it grew back in it was a different texture altogether. I have accidentally gone natural without planning on it. My hair no longer requires a perm just many lotions, potions and emollients. 

My skin is super sensitive to the sun and to cold now. Winter was a bitch. I ain't lying. Anything under 40 degrees and I wanted to stay in bed wrapped in an electric blanket. No more sun bathing for me without a complete coating of SPF 30 or higher. The days of slathering on cocoa butter oil and laying out to get all roasty and toasty? Gone. I burned to a crisp after fifteen minutes and spent the rest of that vacay under the umbrella coated with aloe vera.

There have been some fun things - running into people who haven't seen me in years and watching them figure out the best way to say I look healthy without saying "you lost a shitload of weight" - it's a game I play... how many ways can they try to figure out exactly how many pounds I've lost without coming right out and asking? The first time you zip up a pair of jeans in a size you haven't worn since 8th grade - these are fun things.

Not so fun things - retraining my brain. Having a singular bite of cheesecake and letting that be sufficient. Learning to like sugar-free (Splenda is so awesome) drinks. Having friends and family nickname me "Six-bite Suzy" because that's all I can eat in one sitting. Having to explain to waiters that you really DID enjoy the meal, you just don't want your stomach to explode.

Funny things - not realizing that going from a size 20 to a size 10 in pants means your underwear no longer fits. I was strolling across the living room of my apartment when my drawers literally fell off my ass, tangled at my feet causing me to trip and land sprawled on the carpet in the most undignified manner ever. Thankfully, no one was here to witness the event. Surely it should not have taken that bit of foolery for me to let the XL undies go.

Irritating things - going to the doctor for the check-up and having him say - "Optimally, you should push to lose 25 more and level out there." Optimally? Man listen, these last thirty pounds were a bitch. If I take off ten more, I'm good. I've accepted the fact that the boobs shall not be moved. I've fought like the dickens to get muscle tone so things don't sag (batwings are not the business). But battling for that size six? Just cause that's "optimal" - err, okay then. There is that thing in the back of my mind of wanting to tighten this and shrink that and wishing things were more taut but isn't that always the way? Is anybody ever completely satisfied with they way they look?

Weird things - my feet shrank. I was never in a wide shoe but I wore a size 8.5 or 9 medium size my senior year in high school. Now I wear a 7.5 or an 8. Riddle me that, Batman? I've given up trying to buy an entire wardrobe. I just pick up a few pieces here and a few pieces that as I go. I've developed a weird craving for beef where before I was all chicken all the time. And bleu cheese is suddenly a food group. Weird.

All in all, it's been a hell of a journey. I don't recommend it for everyone but it's worked rather well for me. My biggest fear now is that six years from now I'm writing this AGAIN because I've somehow put back on all the weight and then some. Then again, perhaps because I'm so terrified of having to write that post, I'll do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't come true.

At any rate, because you all have been with me through the whole journey - thought it would be nice to share the next steps in the journey. Anyone else getting healthier in 2013?

Question - Do guys hate it when girls outshine them?

So I'm minding my own at Chez Starbucks last week when John and Annette come in. These two happy-asses The lovely couple said to hell with all the wedding drama, broke out to the Dominican Republic and got married on the beach without telling anybody. They're giving a reception/party over Labor Day weekend. None of the parents are speaking to them and they gives not one damn. Congrats! It's our second BnB wedding. Seriously, I'm bout to start charging up in here. Unless one of you finds me a husband. A good one. Mayhaps one who has some change jingling and is built like anyone on the Jamaican Track Team? I'm just saying. Anyone? Le Sigh, never mind.

But onto the point...

On their way back from the beach, Annette and John sat in the airport lounge with another newlywed couple. They were talking about the Olympics and how the American women really shone. Annette went on to say that she really felt that the Ladies Team USA outshone the fellas. The other newlywed dude got salty and said she was taking it too far. (Anyone who watched track & field has to agree with Annette)

John being John - he Googled the stats. For the first time ever there were more female Olympians than men for Team USA. Of the overall medal count, the women brought home 29 gold and the men brought home 17. Total medal count for Team USA? Ladies - 58, Gents - 45. Maybe I'm unclear on the definition of outshining? Cuz um... ur... uh? Scoreboard.

Anywho... when Other New Bride agreed with Annette, Other New Groom stomped off and apparently stayed tart for the flight home and on up and through customs and baggage claim. Other New Bride lamented on the phone to her mother, "He's so sensitive about the slightest criticism!" (Even when it's not aimed at him but at his gender? Really dude?) Other New Bride's Mom said, "You have to let men think they are superior in every way, even when you know they're not. That's the only way for marriage to work."

** flag on the play **

BougieLand, am I the only one (besides Annette and John) to call bullshiggity? Seriously, shouldn't a grown assed man be able to take a little criticism about himself and/or his gender without feeling like it's an attack? Why can't we just admit the American Women kicked ass in London and clearly it's time to hit a reset on some of those men's teams? Is that an attack on all Y-chromosomes everywhere? Fellas - are you really that fragile? Please discuss...

The Fight between Fit and Fat - The Struggle Continues

I have gained and lost so much weight over the past fifteen years, it is ridiculous. I have sizes ranging from eight to twenty-eight in my closet. Even more irksome is the fact that I have always "carried weight well"-  my cute did not diminish regardless of shirt size. (Yes, I'm modest as well) I've always been able to work out, I've cooked healthy for years only indulging on special occasions and I had no discernible health problems. Add to that the fact that I've always been able to attract and date men of all calibers, backgrounds and income brackets and overall I was okay on the weight roller coaster.

Fast forward to last summer, I felt - for lack of a better word - crappy. Not to overshare but my periods were coming whenever they wanted to, I was stressed, gaining weight rapidly, I was fatigued but could not sleep and my energy was on zero. But I was faking it because I was dating a younger man, my family was expecting me to be the Michele they know and love, and my friends, fans and followers were expecting me to be fabulous out there on the road.

Finally I hit the wall. I dragged my tired behinds to my doctor and threw myself at her mercy. "Fix me!" I implored. She tested me for everything, weighed me (I was appalled) and checked my blood pressure. Whoa. And then she sent me to the gynecologist. The next day, they asked me to come in and meet with them both. Ruh-roh.

My general practicioner went first. I was borderline diabetic, I was entering high blood pressure range and due to the genetic jackpot my parents gifted me with, it was only going to get worse. Long and short of it, the weight had to come off with some expediency. I needed to lose 50 pounds in a heartbeat, 75 pounds overall. The only problem was... the gynecologist stepped in - I was diagnosed with PCOS - polycystic ovary syndrome. A nifty little "woman problem" that affects (among other things) your ability to lose weight. It was going to be an uphill battle but we were sure we could do it.

Fast forward two and a half months and I had lost 25 pounds. Awesome, I worked harder. And 18 pounds came back. Welcome to weight struggle when you body fights against you. I would lose 6 pounds and four would come back. Finally, we decided that drastic measures had to be taken. Time was the enemy. I decided to explore bariatric surgery. Let me pause here and make a few public service announcements:

• Only consider bariatric surgery when ALL else has failed. It's no joke. Not to be played with. Did I mentioned no joke? 
• Your insurance may not cover the surgery. Mine (thanks Aetna) did not. And I had to come out of pocket to the tune of $16,000 + vitamins, supplements, food scale, protein shakes, etc. Cost more than my first car. 
• Pick your bariatric surgeon with care. The first guy I went to (Dr. Kim) was a complete jerk who told me to quit eating fried chicken and chocolate cake every day. For that he charged me $250 and said he looked forward to seeing me again. And then he called me Marsha. Yeah no. Do not go to a factory where they don't get to know anything about you and give less than a damn. I ended up going to Dr. Provost and loved everyone there. 
• Some people in your life will not understand why you are having the surgery and how it will affect you. But that's a whole other post.

I decided on gastric sleeve. Gastric bypass seemed too extreme and the lap band meant something foreign was rattling around inside me forever? No thank you. With the sleeve, they basically go in and slice off most of your stomach leaving you with a little sleeve. I had the surgery on April 20th. Yes it hurt. If I had it to do it over again, I'm not sure if I would. Recovery was a nightmare. I'm just now (almost two months later) getting my energy back. But then again, in two and a half months - I've lost 52 pounds. Twenty seven more to go.

The day after surgery you are free of diabetes, they're not sure why. My blood pressure is back to normal. My PCOS is still there but not as severe. I eat four bites of food three times a day and I'm full. I work out about four times a week. My appetite has changed. Some flavors I no longer like and for some reason I like to drink things that are very, very hot or ice cold. But the joy of zipping up jeans from the "maybe one day, I'll get back into those" section of my closet? Priceless.

Overall, I would not wish this journey on anyone. My best advice to those of you in your twenties and early thirties is to get your fitness on now while your metabolism still likes you and all the genetic conditions are still playing nice. In the meantime, I'll be the one over here whining about yoga, how my abs hate me and why I now believe Snickers bars are the devil. 

Anyway BougieLand, feel free to share your weight struggles. Even if you are just trying to lose five pounds to get back down to a size 4, I promise not to reach through and smack you with a keyboard. Struggles are struggles. Questions, comments, insights? Do share...