Anorexia is so much more effective than WW...

I'm probably going to get a new stream of hate-mail based on the title of this post...but I'm going to say it anyway, well...because it's true.  For 4 months, I ate very very little and took a whole lot of pills and it was really effective.  I lost 45 pounds.  In an effort to save some money, and because it seemed like my insulin resistance issues were under control, I broke up with the bariatric doctor and embarked on the Weight Watchers journey.

Here's what's been happening since then:
Week 1: up .6lbs
Week 2: down 2.4 lbs
Week 3: up 1.2 lbs.
Week 4: stayed exact same.

Today I weigh in for week number 5.
Is it me or does it seem like I keep gaining and losing the same 4 pounds??

I'm headed to Mexico for MG's nuptuals in a few days.  It's highly unlikely that I'll be tracking my points...however, I do plan on making decent choices.  I guess I'll just have to keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best.

No Longer Public Enemy #1: Aarti of Aarti Party.

***Post publishing edit***

Apparently, I'm a huge jerkface.  Aarti herself posted a comment on this blog and now I feel like a total schmuck.  I said some terrible things considering I don't even know this person.  My rage blackout was probably uncalled for.  Anyway, I never watched this show before, but based on the fact that she didn't come at me with the fire of 10,000 suns, I've concluded she's a classy gal and I should probably check it out.  Anyway, I'll leave the original post below along with the comments.  Seriously, I promise I'm not a terrible person.  Ask my Maid of Honor, she said I was dramatic in her toast.  Here's your proof:

***Original Post Below***

Get to know this face, readers.  This is the face of my nemesis.  This is the face that will be punched if I ever happen to cross paths with it.  Why?  She has single handedly destroyed over 3 decades of conditioning people to say my name correctly.  For this, she must suffer.

So perhaps you don't watch the Food Network.  This monstrosity pronounces her name as though it rhymes with the word "party" spoken with a British accent.  For years, I've had to deal with the task of correcting people when they say my non-phonetically spelled name.  I'm sure that at times, one faced with such a task might feel the urge to just give up.  To just...I don't know, go with the mispronunciation of said name.  I can see that being an acceptable outcome if you're name is Trina and people keep saying "Treeena".  Both names sound appropriate to be a girl's name.  Both are relatively pretty.  However, when your name is spelled "Arti" and it's pronounced "Arthi", it is NOT okay.  Why?  Because one sounds like a skinny french dude smoking a cigarette and eating a baguette.  It's not pretty.  It's not even remotely girly sounding.

I can completely understand how someone who has never met me but only seen my name in print would think my name is prounced "Arty".  However, the shortest path to the top of my shit-list is to repeatedly mispronounce my name when you've met me a dozen times.  (At least, that's what I thought the shortest path was...)

It appears now, the shortest path to the top of my shit-list is to NOT use your celebrity to just make my life easier by telling the goddamn truth.  Your name is not pronounced to rhyme with "party" pronounced with a British accent, my friend.  Your name is the same as mine.  Maybe you should just deal with your lot in life and stop being such a lazy pants.  If you really wanted to have a clever name that rhymes, you could have used the only word that rhymes with our names in the english dictionary; "Swarthy"  It's also an adjective that describes us perfectly.

Dumb Ass.

It's official, I'm Old.

I don't know when it happened, but it happened.  I became a grown up.  Don't get me wrong, it's not all bad.  I get to partake in some really neat stuff, like voting and having a 401K, but I also get to look back and compare the old me to the current me.  Sometimes I'm impressed, sometimes I'm depressed.  It's a rollercoaster of emotions, really.

What brought about all this self examination?  I think it probably has something to do with my participation in the Crawl for Cancer.  This is an event where 10 people, wearing matching shirts, parade around an area of Kansas City called Westport, in the hopes that somehow drinking copious amounts of beer will help find a cure for Cancer.  I hate to ruin the ending for you, we don't find it.  This event used to be a thing of such great anticipation for me.  I participated in it every year before I left KC for the east coast.  Some of the most fun/best times I can (sorta) remember are from the Crawl. 

Fast forward 5 years and I hate to admit it, I probably would have enjoyed a marathon of the O.C. or the Golden Girls more.

Okay, so maybe it had a little something to do with the fact that I'm not drinking much (or at all) lately.  Being one of the drunken idiots is one thing. Babysitting/Witnessing all the idiocy is entirely another.  There's something truly heinous about the weird things I witnessed on Saturday.  I think it was made all the more horrifying because all of it happened before the sun actually set.  Some bars are just not meant to be seen in the light of day.  It's like seeing the characters at Disney World taking their smoke break in their costumes...it really ruins the fantasy, ya know?

I hate to say it, but I almost wish I hadn't gone this year.  I would have preferred to remember the old me's version of that event.  Now I have to deal with the current me's attitude towards it and it makes me feel downright old.  Next thing you know, I'll be a crotchety old woman referring to "kids these days" or "these whippersnappers."  Ack.  At least if I hadn't gone, I could remain delusional and convince myself that I'd still totally enjoy watching people stumble around in ridiculous balloon hats at 2pm on a Saturday, drunk of their asses, or watch 3 young adults rolling around giggling on the ground at the Beaumont Club.  P.S. The floor at the Beaumont Club could probably be studied for the next industrial strength glue.  It's really that gross and sticky.

In the meantime, I'm going to start re-evaluating my idea of "Fun".  I don't think it includes the things it used to.  I don't think I'll be off the booze forever, but I do however, think that my days of binge drinking are over. 

Just so you can be as horrified as I was, here's a list of strange things I saw:

1. Goth people making out on the balcony of Ernie Biggs. at 3pm. In broad daylight.
2. 3 girls rolling around giggling on the ground. In broad daylight.  It truly was like one of the episodes of True Blood Season 2...with Maryanne and the crazy eyes and the orgies.
3. A man with a mullet wig, wearing full on scuba gear.  Don't worry, he hit on one of my friends.
4. A Ron Blagoyavich look-alike.  Don't worry, he also hit on one of my friends.
5. A kid who could barely stand or keep from slurring like a maniac smoked half a cigarette with the wrong end lit.  Seriously, who does that???