Hello supple beauties of the world,
I approach Weigh-In Wednesday with mild nervousness this week. As usual, I had a sneak peek at the scale this morning. Most times it’s a fairly accurate indication of the number that’ll pop up the following day. If that’s the case, I gained 5 pounds this week. COME on!
By now, you know I’m an open book about all this stuff. Had I mowed through a trough of nachos and washed it down with a moat of vodka paralyzers, I’d own up to it. But that’s not the case. My biggest sin this week was a double-vodka followed by a can of Pilsner (such a lady) on Friday night to celebrate my first week at X929. I was at a gig. That was the night my bra started protesting about working overtime and demanded WCB when we hit the 20-hour mark.
Saturday was supposed to be a day off, but through unforeseen circumstances I had to cover a gig for a stellar Canadian comic. I felt like a back-up goalie who gets put in the game, but I didn’t have skates and my stick was made of licorice. When I met the contact and asked about content, she informed me that three years ago a comedian said ‘ass’ and there were complaints. I’d have to say that was the moment I nearly soiled my drawers. About 20 minutes in, I said ‘jackass’ and as I heard the word in my own ears, my brain started fast-talking; something about how jackass is livestock, so clearly not profane. Hmm, what’s that? No, it wasn’t a livestock joke. I decided that it was a slip up and it wouldn’t happen again. Then I said it twice more before my set was over. WTF, Gibbs?
But back to the point – after 27 weeks of ass-melting, I don’t get too worked up over a gain. Weight fluctuates often and for many reasons. Personally, I think weighing one’s self daily is crazy-making. I remember back in August when I went to Psych to get to the bottom of food addiction and she suggested I not buy a scale. She said it might be healthier to judge my success by how my clothes fit. I see the merits of that method but on the other hand, I mostly wore pants with some (read: a lot of) stretch to them, so I could pack them to capacity and still convince myself they fit like they did 40 pounds before that.
Oh hey, I took off there for a while. I just had ye olde annual physical. My doc, who is beyond wonderful, high-fived me for my textbook blood pressure and 51 lb weight loss. She also asked me how I’m so upbeat all the time. Considering she writes my prescriptions, I thought she’d have put the pieces together. Just kidding, doc. You and I both know my happiness isn’t completely drug-related.
I’m judging the finals of the Yuk Yuks Chase Your Butterfly Comedy Competition tonight. Somebody asked me, “When do you sleep?” I’ll tell ya – now. Catch you in the morning. Okay, I’m back. The competition was seriously kickass. I have nothing but praise for each and every contestant that was in this competition. The winner is the smooth and talented Doug Mutai! Not only is Doug’s comedy perfectly-timed, original and delicious, he’s a stellar human being and I’m not basing that solely on his love of Breaking Bad, but that is GD important. Take a moment and like Doug on Facebook and follow him on Twitter. You’ll thank me.
Okay, time to face the inevitable truth – the most dramatic gain in this 27-week romp. 4 pounds. I could try justifying this with a Girl Parts argument, but I’ve grown weary of my own uterus, so I’m fairly sure you lost interest in it about 23 weeks ago, amiright?
Onward and downward. Next week, whatever 4-pound entity is inhabiting me will be exorcised along with a layer of arse.
Pounds gained this week: 4
Total pounds lost: 47.3
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