Iwan's Weightloss Journal

So tack up a towel in the window!

I tired to do the tae bo stuff - but I just felt like a douche. lol. And Billy kicked my butt :(
 
I tried tao bo for a while, but I'm not coordinated enough to that. I not only felt stupid I gave my husband a good laugh!:mad: I didn't care for that at all! Try painting for a couple hrs! It's a killer workout!!
 
I had a good day, I ate like a pig and still came in under cals. wooohooo! not too under, reasonably under, like 45 cals under my goal. And it was a high fiber day. 3 peices of whole wheat bread. thats alot for me. usually I avoid bread like the plague.
my kid just spilled raspberry jello on my carpet. Yeah. its a big red ground in mess because he also stepped in it. BRB
 
alright, if you have kids and carpet never let yourself run out of windex, it is the miracle carpet cleaner. I got that ground in jello out in a few minutes.

I'm seeing red today. I have to write a newletter for work, as part of a grant requirment. Well, I finished this newletter that I have spent the better part of yesterday working on. It looked good clean and professional. I emailed it to my boss who has to approve everything and she changed everything, the format the type style...everything. Then she added a bunch of tacky 20 year old clip art. It looks like a peice of junk now and I'm not putting my name anywhere on it. I can't believe she does that shit and thinks its okay. Why do I bother. Next quarter she can just do it herself from scratch.
I havn't weighed in yet today, I probably won't have a chance to till late afternoon.
 
As a designer - i feel your pain. I hate when clients look at my hard work and say - 'hmm... maybe I can go find you some clipart.'

Clipart is the DEVIL! :mad:

Goodluck at the weigh in!!! :D:D:D:D
 
I was very vociferous about my displeasure regarding the editing of the newsletter this morning and my boss decided to go home sick. Now everybody is happy and begging me to call her at home and continue to hound her about tacky clip art so she won’t come to work tomorrow either.

I think the final straw was when I said, I didn’t go to two years of art school to be one upped by cartoon tulips in a fall mailer. Hello! Tulips? Spring?
Seasonally appropriate? No.

Anyways. I haven’t had a chance for a lunch break yet, my co worker is out on an investigation and I’ve got…clients…in house that require careful supervision. So I’m not leaving anytime soon. Unless my back up arrives but the schedule says she’s not due till 5pm. Its 3:30ish now. So bottom line, no weigh in yet.

Had a single skinny sugarfree hazelnut latte, 12 oz, and half a pria nutrition bar chocolate mint for breakfast and a bowl of clam chowder here a few minutes ago...not nice…I hate chowder outta a can, its just wrong.



************
really bad joke alert:
if you don't like really bad jokes don't read any further!

Why does Foley detest bookmarks?

because he prefers to bend the pages over.

***********
this really bad joke brought to you courtesy of my uncle jerah who claims he's allowed to crack bad jokes because he's gay.
 
i hope yr weekend makes u feel better....
wow wat a late lunch, ha...yucky can of soup. i understand. tried that before.

dun understand the joke. but well since it's supposed to be a bad joke, guess i dun miss much. lol....:p
 
Hey Iwan, thanks for visiting my journal.... I think I'm new to yours as well. *hangs head in utter shame* Sorry!

clam chowder out of a can? (insert dry heave here) That sounds...errr (insert another dry heave here)

and I'm not going to comment on the joke.... seriously, no comment! lol
 
Canned chowder.. that's an abomination. Bleh.... and I just don't get the joke. I'm guessing that's a good thing?
 
Good thing I didn't put the re-vamped version of that joke up...my uncle has a way with bad jokes.

so yesterday I ended up with like 1500something calories...yeah...bad girl. I went for a beach walk with my son and found lots of beach glass...which we call beach jewels and we decided that we are now rich and I don't have to work anymore. Except now we're both at work...because the babysitter cancelled on me this morning as is her typical saturday morning routine because she probably has a hangover.
Next week my son starts a new babysitter mtw and then we are flying out for a week on thursday. The new babysitter is way more reliable. She's super ultra christian lady, definatly can be classified as evangelical, or in some cases fundamental. But, if she takes good care of my kid I don't really care what she believes. And her kids are always well behaved and clean (as is mine) so I feel like she's at least as compitent as me. parents will understand this.

So, my big plans for today are...to work...and maybe during lunch me and my son can sneak away for a good walk/run...wore my running shoes to work as motivation...lol!

*a note to those anxiously awaiting the first installment of the Saucy Chocolate Capers...I should post that here sometime today.*
 
Installment number one...
I had to edit out the foul language and disturbing images, seeing as we have some youngsters on here.

Saucy Chocolate Capers
By A. Hopecraft


I
Anchorage, Alaska
April 19, 2005
0056 Hours

It was a night that was as dark as Culpepper’s eyes, and equally as cold. As Culpepper sat watching from the rooftop of a nearby building her target entered her line of site. A small man by any standards, he walked quick and jerky with twig like limbs that were stiffened with premature age and the pain of rheumatoid arthritis. He skittered down the side walk heading north and turned into the building Culpepper was staking out. This was his office, his lair. He did deeds here that made the devil cringe.

Culpepper’s cell chirped at her. Annoyed to be bothered she looked at the caller ID box and turned her attention back to the task at hand. Slowly she started to assemble her sniper rifle, a .308 Brown Precision Tactical Elite Rifle that brought her glory on the range. She was in no hurry. He would be in the office all night, his routine was solid. After gently laying out a canvas tarp and sighting her rifle mounted scope on a predetermined spot near the front entrance of the building, Culpepper signaled to O’Malley on an adjacent rooftop that she was ready. Now taking a moment to turn off her cell phone she was officially in stake out limbo.

It was moments like this, on a stake out when all was quiet and there was nothing to do but wait, that Cossette Culpepper had time to reflect on the details of her life that have brought her to this time and place. And it was a long, strange road that lead her to this roof. To this particular stake out. To this moment in her life that could mean the difference between success or failure, and life or death for some. This was a defining moment in Culpepper’s personal story and she was going to remember every detail of it.

*****

Kansas City, Missouri
December 24, 2004

At just past noon Culpepper was making great time on her last minute Christmas shopping. Not a holiday she particularly enjoyed participating in, but she felt guilty that her family would always buy her gifts so she felt almost obligated to buy them crap. And that was pretty much what she had just spent the better part of her meager public servants monthly wages on. Crap for Dad, crap for mom, crap for her brother. It was all crap. And they’d really be excited to receive this crap just like she’ll be excited to receive the crap they give her.
What a holiday she thought as she exited the Sharper Image shop and went to make her way through the Plaza, across Ward Parkway and home to her cramped 8th floor studio. A tacky jingle from her cell phone brought on a dance of shifting shopping bags on the street corner to search for the phone. “This is Culpepper” she practically barked into the phone.
“Cossette, glad to hear your charming voice” O’Malley jeered from the receiver.
“What do you want, don’t tell me your going to ruin a two day weekend for me O’Malley?” Culpepper said anticipating the worst.
“Well, I wasn’t calling to ruin it per say, you’ll still be off. I was just calling because I thought you aughta know that Dereck Stanley made bail this afternoon and he’s out on third party.” O’Malley said with a bit of tension.
“What!” Culpepper squawked, which brought dirty looks from a soccer mom type and her pre-teen entourage, “what were the release conditions again?” she said trying to keep cool. She trotted across one side of Ward Parkway, thumped across a bridge and the stood to wait for another light.
“Third party sight and sound, no contact with the victim, standard DV conditions, not to consume alcohol or other drugs, not to be in a liquor providing establishment, don’t’ leave the state, yaddayaddayadda…” O’Malley chirped over the phone.
“I want someone checking in on the victim and her kids tonight and tomorrow morning bright and early.” Culpepper said, “And not over the phone, I want an officer to have a visual of them, I want them to make sure they are safe,” she stipulated.
“I already figured you would.” O’Malley said. “Have a nice holiday Cossette.”
“You too Brian, say hi to your folks for me.” She flipped the phone shut as the light turned and the walk sign blinked to life for her.

Great. Not trying to ruin it per say, eh? Culpepper knew instinctively what was on the menu for this holiday weekend. A violated court order, an unsafe family, possible assault. She knew how Stanley thought, she knew what was ticking in his dull little mind. Years of working this job had taught her a lot about the mind of a batterer and she could practically predict with uncanny accuracy what his next move would be.

*****

Dereck Stanley was the kind of scum sucking piece of crap that made sport of hurting his wife and kids. He thought it was his god given right to beat the living crap outta anyone who disagreed with him, which was a lot of people because Dereck Stanley was not as smart as most, and he was dead wrong about a lot of things. For Dereck, it was all about control. Control that wife and her loud mouth. Control the kids. Control them with violence and fear.

Stanley was the kind of dumb ass that looks at a court order to stay away from his wife, the house, the car, the kids and where ever any of them visited regularly as a bunch of bullshit. He didn’t even think twice about making bail and then formulating a plan to get his wife alone and give that bitch what she deserves. A good beating. Teach that stupid bitch a lesson. Show her who’s in control. Dereck’s in control. Dereck’s the boss.

“I’m gunna kill her, Marty.” Stanley said to his third party as they drove away from County.
“Ah, Dereck, I see your mind is set.” Marty said, taking a left and heading for the airport, “but as your employer I have different plans for you, and you my friend are going to be on a job in Atlanta before the day is out. The attorney will take care of the details.”
“But I’m not allowed to leave the state, Marty.” Stanley said dryly.
“I said the attorneys would take care of the details you dumb ass!” Marty interjected with obvious irritation.
“I don’t have any gear, no gun, no scope, no goggles. I’ve got nothing. I’m in a pair of sneakers and jeans Marty. How the hell do you expect me to do my job without a lick of equipment?” Stanley said getting louder with each word.
“Taken care of yesterday while your wife was still with the cops,” Marty explained, “It’s a small world and I keep an eye on my investments.”
“Your spying on me, you bastard!” Stanley hollered.
“You leave me no choice, doing stupid crap like beating up on your wife. You loser, you risk everything for a woman!” Marty was red faced and spitting mad at this point. What a stupid insolent piece of crap.

Silence ensued. For twenty five minutes as the car moved closer to the airport through a darkening city Dereck Stanley and his employer sat in silence. Stanley wasn’t thinking about what a stupid piece of crap he was. He was thinking about strangling his wife to death with her own thong.

Marty was thinking about what a stupid piece of crap Stanley was. And the fact that from now until Stanley’s case was adjudicated he was going to be his constant companion. He was thinking about how he should just kill Stanley, dispose of his remains and tell the judge that he fled, skipped bail, went to Mexico or some lie.

*****

Culpepper dialed the office on autopilot as soon as she walked though her front door. Dropping her shopping bags by the couch and flinging off her coat while simultaneously kicking her boots back in the direction of the door.
“Hi Brandy, Culpepper here, can you get me the number for Rebecca Stanley, the victim in 04KC-86594CR?” she said in an uncharacteristically warm voice.
“Please hold.” came the icy response from the puffy middle aged woman that answered the phone. She hates me Culpepper thought. She was right.

After Brandy gave her the number she hung up and dialed Mrs. Stanley. She wanted to go over some basic safety planning and see if she wouldn’t reconsider driving to see relatives out of town for the holidays. It would be safer. The phone rang seven times before Culpepper gave up. She would put the number in her cell contacts and keep trying. She was going to worry about this woman and her two kids all weekend, she knew it.

She sat down on her overstuffed sofa and for a second pondered driving over to the Stanley’s house. Then she thought better of it. She didn’t want to ruin their day more by intruding. Nobody wanted the cops hanging around and kids got all weird around cops and strangers. They deserved some piece and quiet. That’s probably why they didn’t answer the call, strange number and all. Besides, she needed to get her crap wrapped up and get herself cleaned up for Christmas Dinner with the family. Oh, the joys of the season, she thought as she grudgingly got off her comfy warm sofa and trudged to the hall closet for gaudy Christmas printed wrapping paper.
 
hahaha! my talent!!! My friend that I read it to told me to give up! I did, unfortunatly have to leave out the part where Derek is fantasizing about the thong killing. Too bad, it was a good one.
 
I'm already hard at work on the next installment.

Today was a weird food day. I swear it feels like I ate more then I did, but I measured everything at dinner meticulously. I'm in at just under 900 cals for the day. And I'm satisfied with that surprisingly. My dinner was kinda high cal, 460 cals, but I had two home made fajitas in whole wheat wraps with plain low fat yogert. Yum, they were good! I used chicken breast meat and lots of bell peppers and tomatos and onions.

So, tell me please. I need to know. Is there a caloric difference between a green bell, a red bell or a yellow/orange bell? Or are they all pretty much the same? I gotta know.

Its windy out. I'm gunna guestimate its blowing 50 mph out there but I'm going to hop on over to the weather site and see for sure.
 
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