The 'Button'

Here are a few things about buttons in general:

1. Wally loves hearing me say the word buttons. The reason is because when I say it I over pronounce the t's. I also do this with the words: mittens, kitten's and Tim Horton's. I only started doing this a few years ago when one of the kids I mentored when I was a youth worker did it. Now I can't seem to stop. If I try I feel like I'm doing an English accent or something. I don't get it.

2. I bought a new coat over the holidays. It was on sale because of Boxing Day - that's how I roll ... with the sales I mean. It was on even more sale because every coat in the store had button's falling off. I started browsing and noticed right away this was the case. The sales girl saw my reluctance to commit to a coat. Mostly it was because I didn't know whether I looked better with or without a belt, but I'm assuming she thought it was the missing button epidemic that took over the store. I was thinkin' this because she immediately let me know that if I wanted I could get an additional 10% off of my coat purchase because of the missing buttons

If I wanted? Are you kidding me lady? That's the dumbest offer statement I've ever heard. Like, I'm going to say 'No thanks, I want to pay full price for this article of clothing that is falling apart at the seams. Come to think of it, can I throw in a 25% tip also, just because you are that nice? Yeah, duh! The funny part was as she was showing me how I could wear the belt this way and that (really when the belt is attached to the coat there is only one way to wear it - even I know that)she was mentioning how the coat didn't really need the 25 decorative buttons that were on the coat either. You know, in case they fell off. Well geez, way to sell the coat. Unfortunately for her I'm not 6. Fortunately for her I am a bargain hunter.

I bought the coat with the missing buttons, came home determined to re sew all of the buttons back on before I wore it out. I wore it out, forgot to remove the tag on the sleeve, forgot to snip the threads int he back 'vent area', and decided that the already missing button on the front wasn't all that necessary (who needs their coat to close up int he winter anyways?)

While I was out another button fell off. It was a decorative one. She said I didn't need it...

Ok so on to the third and final button (like my sermon?)

The anticipation button. Was that what I called it? Or was it the adrenaline button? I can't remember, it was a button of some persuasion I know that. Anyways, I don't know that I found it regarding my desire to melt my bod into ... well a bod of less proportion.

I was at work today meeting with my new supervisor, blah, blah, blah. aNd they were starting this 'Biggest Loser' thing.

*sigh*

I did this last year at my gym and failed miserably. I began to detest the little psychology analysis I got each time I weighed in and didn't lose weight, and I thought I had better never do such a thing again if I didn't want to end up in jail for homicide. However I've been looking for my 'inciting incident'. (I'm reading a book, a good book. I'll have to expand on it later. It's a me book, I'll say that much.)

Where was I?

Yeah I have been trying to find something basically I could commit to that would MAKE me succeed at my goals. I'm not sure if this is it, I guess we'll see. I really didn't want to do this. I mean I like JUST started working there, did I really want a complete stranger weighing me in? I think I'd rather streak naked in the woods. Ok so streaking naked in the woods probably wouldn't be that bad ... my point is I wasn't too keen on the whole thing. Also, we are put into teams to 'encourage' eachother. (That's a nice way of saying eagle eying every morsel of food that goes into eachother's mouths - whatever.)

However for the sake of losing my pride and humbling my self, (and a last ditch effort to look great in a party dress in April) I joined the stupid thing.

Anyways, we'll see. I think I'm going to do it and rock it just so I have something to be cranky about for the next 3 months. I'm kinda funny when I'm cranky. Well to a point, until the knives come out and well we'll hope that doesn't happen.

So today at 12:15 pm I weighed in at... well I have to admit I have absolutely no clue. I looked away from the scale and put the weigher lady in a CPI hold and told her if she breathed my weight out loud or to anyone else I'd hunt her down and put laxatives in her coffee when she wasn't looking. she promised not to tell and asked me if I was sure I didn't want to know. She didn't need her right arm.

I immediately came home and prepared for my stint in my real life 'Biggest Loser'. I went to the grocery store and bought chips to help me finish off my spinach dip, and a dozen bakery chocolate chip cookies. I came home and ate the rest of the dip, with a handful of chips (cause really there wasn't much dip left). Slugged back a giant glass of Coke, ate half of the cookies, felt boated and wondered what I would eat for supper later.

When I got home from a short 2 hour shift I thought I'd top off my night (along with my Wally), by taking it easy and SPLITTING a slice of pizza at the old people mall beside us. Of course we tripped over the dollar store on the way home and picked up some Swedish Berries and peanut butter cups, you know, to make my commitment real.

I just checked my e-mail. Saw who was on my team. Shouldn't you have something to lose in order to be a part of 'The biggest loser'? Whatever. Skinny bitches. Stupid buttons.

Sorry I'm getting a little cranky.

Eating ... peanut ... butter ... cups.

Later.