Sunday, January 23, 2011


I usually tend to stay away from anything political on my blog. I have my opinions on topics and that's all that matters. I feel that I am pretty informed and am able to come to a reasonable conclusion on my own. People are allowed to align themselves with any party they chose. I will certainly not discriminate against them for their beliefs. The same holds true for religion.

There is one topic in the news lately that borders both politics and religion: abortion. This is something I will speak about. I have VERY strong opinions on the matter. I'm not going to get too deep into my reasoning in this post. I can, and probably will, at a later date.

True, the anniversary of Roe v. Wade is here but this is not what is really getting me hot under the collar. The story/stories that are infuriating me are the ones having to do with Kermit Gosnell. I will not argue the point that he is an awful, disgusting human being. I think he will be punished for all of the atrocities he has committed. I believe there is a special place in Hell reserved for this man and people like him. My BIGGEST gripe comes from the women who were his patients.

I have found a few articles in which the women were interviewed and told of the horrible conditions inside his "clinic." Did they leave? Nope. They chose to stay and proceed with their abortions. Are you seriously trying to play yourself off as a victim? Do you think you are some sort of savior for staying and getting an abortion in such a horrid place? I think not. This makes you an even bigger fool.

Some women are claiming the "doctor's" techniques have caused them great injury and to be infertile. I suppose this may be true, but YOU STAYED WHEN YOU SAW THE CONDITIONS. What did you think was going to happen when you visited a man in a corner shop to perform this? It was going to be butterflies and unicorns? I do NOT feel sorry for you.

My favorite comment came from a woman who learned this disgusting man had parts of babies still in his shop. She was worried that had happened to her baby. BABY!? Really?!? You didn't seem to care when you were trying to get rid of the BABY! It wasn't a BABY when you were wanting this abortion. Now you want sympathy?! If you were so worried about your baby, maybe you should have gone a different route. The only reason you care about your baby now is because you are getting your fifteen minutes of fame. Television and media brings out all the creeps and degenerates.

Who Am I?

Who in the hell am I? I've caught myself looking in the mirror unsure of the person staring back at me. Who is this?? It's a new me. A me that is still changing. A me that is every day turning into a person I am proud of. A me that is finally making steps toward the right direction. A me that finally knows what she wants. A me that isn't as afraid to go after IT, whatever IT may be. A me that is FINALLY finding her place in this world. A me that is FINALLY feeling whole.

I owe a lot of this change to Mr. 'man Clan. He's encouraged me to do things I never thought I could. When I told him about my problem, he didn't freak out. He stayed by my side and promised to do whatever he could to get me through it. He's held my hand every step of the way. When I tell him about another race I want to do, he smiles and shakes his head. When I tell him I'd rather have a coffee instead of a beer, he smiles and teases me.

I thank God every day for bringing Mr. 'man Clan into my life. I don't know who I would be today if I didn't have him. I'm so grateful to him for allowing me to find myself. He's helped me be a better version of me.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

A Slave No More

**Warning: This blog is very intimate. It contains potty language and disgusting truths you may not want to hear.**

I hate the scale. I hate weighing in. I despise it. The scale can be so harsh to me sometimes. Yes, I suppose the truth hurts, but there are times when people don't need THAT number. The time for me is now. I put the scale away. I hid it in a closet. I didn't leave it on the bathroom floor where it could tease me and taunt me. I had to. I found myself becoming a slave to the scale. I was obsessing over THAT number. I was so consumed with seeing THAT number go down. When I'd step on the scale and see THAT number unchanged, I'd collapse.

I would think back to all the things I should not have eaten. I would run to the pantry or fridge to find anything I could eat and easily throw up. I'd find myself back over the toilet with my finger down my throat and tears streaming down my face. I had failed. I just want to get better. Yes. I do want to be healthy, but what is more important: THAT stupid fucking number or my overall well being?

It had to end now. One day while I was cleaning the bathroom, I tucked the scale away in a closet. Out of sight. Out of mind. It's been nearly 2 weeks since I gathered up the courage to do this. I haven't binged and purged in 2 weeks. TWO WEEKS. Finally, I'm making progress. I have decided to let my clothes and my body tell me what kind of progress I am making. When I had to recently move to the next hole on my belt, I cried. When I tried on shirts, I had purchased recently and they were too big, I cried. When I was able to go down another pant size, I cried. (Yeah, I cry a lot. I'm such a girl.)

I can't believe I'm making progress without stepping on that dreaded scale. I can't believe I'm finally freeing myself of that ball and chain. I will probably get on the scale down the road. Or I may not. I may give it the big middle finger and carry on with my life. THAT number doesn't define me. It's just a number. Even though THAT number may not change, the simple fact is this: I am changing. Physically and mentally.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

2 months

Two months doesn't seem that long. Two months really isn't that long. But in two months, my body has changed tremendously. I haven't lost a lot of weight, but my shape has definitely changed.

October 31, 2010

December 31, 2010

I was so focused on the scale and the numbers it keeps spitting out at me. I didn't take time to really pay attention to what has been going on with my body. It's transforming. I'm no where near my goal, but I am quite pleased with the progress I am making.

I found myself crying the other day. Mr. 'man Clan asked why. I told him I'm not emotionally ready to lose weight. I'm not ready for all it entails. I don't know when I will except this. When I noticed the difference in the photos, I cried. They were happy tears. They were frustrated tears. Happy because I am starting to be healthy. Frustrated because I couldn't SEE this in the mirror. I didn't SEE it when I tried on clothes and had to go down a size. I couldn't SEE that I don't have to shop in the plus size area of my favorite size.

This is a big deal for me. For once in my life, I'm on the right path. For once, I am losing weight the healthy way. I'm exercising. I'm eating so much better than I was. I still have slip ups. I'm not perfect. I occasionally find myself standing over my toilet thinking, "Why did I just do this? Why did I let it get the best of me?" I'm going to come out on top of this monster. I will not let it defeat me.

Ringing in the new year.

This year, Mr. 'man Clan and I had plans for New Year's Eve. We haven't gone out in 4 years. We haven't stayed up until midnight for 2 years. True story. We're old and lame like that. Hey, it works for us most of the time. The weekend before NYE a couple of my Twitter friends (Jen, Alyssa and Angie) and I decide to go to the St. Louis Blues game. We got a pretty sweet deal on tickets and an after party to ring in the new year.

Turns out, the section they had reserved for NYE sold out, but they decided to go ahead and sell tickets but put people in party suites. Hello!! We had our own bathroom!! 2 to be exact. It was HEAVEN!!

Our view from the seats.

The Mr.'s minus Jen's hubs.

They won!!

Goose McD and Angie

Alyssa and Matt

Mr. 'man Clan and me

Me with Jen. It was so good to finally meet her!

First kiss of 2011!!
I know it's a horrible photo. Sorry. I don't take very good self portraits. In all, it was a great evening and I'm so glad we went out!