Abigail vs. Skinny Jeans

     There comes a moment every once in a while when one's light bulb flickers and then becomes brighter. The magic of the light bulb's glow brings clarity, peace, and acceptance. Those moments differ for everyone, but during those moments, people wake up. They no longer live the life they were living and vow to change, whether it's to make a difference, be inspiring, mend old friendships, become stronger in faith, quit a bad a habit, or live a healthier lifestyle! These people use the light bulb's motivation to move mountains, hurdle oceans, calm storms, and fight Chuck Norris. Luckily, I have been blessed with the aforementioned light bulb moment....

     A few days ago, I got on the scale. Now, I have stepped on the scale going on a quadrillion times, and the scale has never spoken to me like it did that day, this being the light bulb moment. The number on the scale hit an all time high. As long as I have known my husband, I have never been this heavy. The reason I got on the scale in the first place was because my body felt different. There are parts of me everywhere, and I thought I was having an allergic reaction to something due to the growth of me, but no, it's just fat. I didn't cry, I didn't binge eat, and I didn't go to the gym to kill myself for hours. I acknowledged it and collected the motivation of the moment. I haven't been this big in years...like college day years. The little bikini pic I took this summer could easily serve as an after pic of what I am now. Anyway, I used that moment to make a vow to myself. No, the vow did not consist of eating less, running more, counting calories, weighing food, cutting out food groups, or partaking in a tempting eating disorder, I vowed the best vow I have ever vowed...to buy new jeans. I'm done with trying to get into those pants that have been in my closet for three years; it just ain't happenin', folks. Not right now anyway. Now, some people are like, "No, Abigail, don't give up. Reach for the size 6 finish line!!" I'm not giving up; I promise. But I am done feeling terrible in my clothes that I have. If I'm too big to fit in my clothes, then I am a walking punch line. I'm a little older, my schedule is a little different, and my priorities have definitely changed, so I know that it's going to take a little longer to reach goals. While I am trying to reach those goals, I'd like for my jeans to not try to kill me along the way. So yeah, I went shopping with my husband, and we bought me some new jeans. Now let's talk about that...

     When I was looking at the jeans at the PX, I knew that I was going to have a time. First of all, I'm not Korean which is a synonym for perfect, I'm not eighteen, I'm not anorexic...hmmmm. I didn't even waste my time in the single digits. Haha, no, why would I torture myself? If I did that, my husband would have heard a bawling banshee and shattering glass. The store workers would have had to lure me out of the dressing room with an XL pair of men's Hanes wide leg sweatpants (those really were almost purchased), a Kit-Kat, and a bottle of Melatonin. Forget all that mess, I went straight to the double digits, ladies. I know what I am, and I didn't care at the moment. They had my size, great! But it has been so long since I have bought jeans that I couldn't understand the thought process of the style. Every pair I picked up said skinny. Well, if I was skinny, then I wouldn't be jean shopping. It's like the jeans knew I was giving into my fatness and were taunting me. It was like a slow denim chant: Skin-ny, skin-ny, skin-ny, skin-ny...

     Umm, skinny I am not, skinny jeans I want not. Trying to find jeans that weren't skinny was actually frustrating. My husband saw my bewilderment, so he knew to have his eyes peeled. As soon as I said, "Can a girl get a BOOTCUT!?!" He handed me a pair. "Ahh, thank you, husband." I skipped off to the dressing room to try on the jeans. Now, someone who knows the logic behind this, please explain, because I am befuddled. I put the jeans on, with ease mind you, and was pleased, but once I went to zip my pants, I was introduced to yet another style trend. When I zip up my old jeans, it's like zzzziiiipppp. I can hear it; I can feel it; I can actually get my shirt caught in it. But when I went to zip up dressing room jeans it was more like z. I looked down at my two inch zipper, disgusted. Do you know what a double digit, 5'1'', pot belly girl looks like in a two inch zipper jeans??? It's not pretty. The jeans are hitting my nonexistent hipbones, my belly button is a mile away from the button, and I'm pretty sure that the top of my butt was still showing. What is that??? Why would I want to wear that??? I mean, I bought them, yeah, because I said they went on with ease, but I have to strategically plan to wear super duper long shirts that come in at the waist because if I don't, hello Abigail Plumber. My old jeans have such a wonderful zipper. Long zippers on jeans give me a place to tuck in my lower belly fat. I can literally shove my fat down into the long zipper jeans. It makes me look stupendous. Long zippers are kind of like Spanx minus the bonus of getting cleavage. Sometimes, though, long zipper jeans do cause lower back cleavage which I have been guilty of a time or two...shame. Anyway, the two inch zipper, which I am now calling zinch jeans, put my fat on display. I was mortified; now there is some motivation. 

     I came out of the dressing room and told my husband about the zinch jeans; he looked excited. How and why those details would excite the man, I'll never know. I think he was just so pumped that I was actually going to buy jeans instead of babydoll dresses or tunics. That's right, I barely wore a waist band this summer; it was amazing. We just bought the jeans on Saturday, and I've already worn them twice. I know they're bigger than what I would want, but I looked good. I wasn't red in the face from lack of circulation, and you couldn't count the change in my back pocket, but the zinch...really? What's the point?

Welcome Back, Bread! You Have Been Missed!!

DISCLAIMER: This is probably full of grammatical errors, but I just got done writing two or fifty papers for school, so I'm out of intelligence.

    It has been a few weeks since I have posted anything, and I've had a lot of people ask about the Slow Carb Diet. Here's my answer:

First of all, if you notice the details of the picture, you will find that, yes, my husband and I do have the same profile picture because we are that adorable; the date does state August 30, so I've been off for a good week or so; and also, I have mastered the art of screen shots. I love this option. I feel techy.

Whoa, watch out, I just hit you up with another screen shot just because I could. You never know when one is going to happen, it's like you're reading, and then BAM, screen shot! I'm on fire. Anyway, as always, I must get back on topic, and it is taking every fiber of my being not to throw up another screen shot, so I better move on...
     So yeah, no more slow carb for this girl. It was fun in a suicidal kind of way in the very beginning, but after a few weeks of the same ol' same ol', I was going to crack. I was also fearing for my health on Saturdays. Saturdays quickly went from a day of caloric celebration to day of concern if I was going to be admitted into the hospital for snorting powdered sugar. I was giving myself too many cheats. Then before I knew it, Saturdays started becoming Friday nights which led to Friday days which are technically Thursday nights, and they all conclude to Sunday mornings, but that's okay, because tomorrow is Monday! Do you know how many farewell meals I've had this week let alone this month??? I've been doing more damage to my body preparing for a diet than just being me not following a diet: "What? The diet's tomorrow??? Quick, to the doughnut store where I shall not feel shame, for it is my farewell meal, and I am allowed to consume 46, 000 calories in an hour! All because tomorrow is Monday! And do you know what happens on Monday??? Well...no, seriously, I'm looking for an answer here..." Every Monday I wake up with great intentions, and then something stupid happens, like my cat meows, and then I'm like, "Well, all signs point to a Snickers. Seyo meowed; my one hour diet is ruined. Time for my farewell meal to get ready for Tuesday."
     This is probably the fastest I have ever gained weight, and it's all because I'm terrified of the Slow Carb Diet. As you saw in the aforementioned screen shot, not this new one:

but the one up top, I had to tell my will-powered husband that it was over. Later in a conversation, I told him that I'd much rather feel guilty on a Thursday for eating a couple of Oreos than ecstatic on a Saturday for eating a whole package. I'm sorry, world, this just wasn't for me. 

    I know I have said this time and time again, but I'm done with this fad stuff; I'm serious this time. I posted not too long ago that I was over educated and that made it hard for me to commit, and then what did I do? Read a book on why to hate carbs. That was stupid. I did learn a lot about myself during the diet, though: 

I do have the ability to model will power; I just don't like it

I don't have to eat cake batter when making a cake; the cake will still be made if I don't eat batter in the process...hmmm, who knew?

I know the difference between wanting to snack, being hungry, and needing to murder

Egg whites...no matter what I do to them, if they lack bread and cheese, they're still just egg whites

If I needed to I can drink black coffee, but there better be a good reason for it

If I run after two carb free weeks, I can get a sever neck cramp...that was weird; it felt like I was growing an Adam's apple

I can eat the same meal three times a day with very little gagging involved

There's a lot more that I learned, but I can't focus because of my full BBQ Chicken Pizza belly. Hey, it was a part of my farewell meal. Tomorrow is Monday, darn it, and I'm being me. I'm going to go back to the basics and just try to live a healthy life. I have some new goals in place, and believe it or not, they are not surrounded by weight loss. But if I go about trying to achieve these goals, weight loss could happen. And I know I said something about a bathing suit picture, but believe me, you don't wanna see this. Give a few weeks of farewell meal detox, and I might feel up to the ch

WHOA...there it is again. That one even caught me off guard. Slow down, heart rate, I can only take so much. Anyway, I was saying that I might feel up to the challenge of doing some more before and after pics. But right now, if I took a pic of something other than my screen, it would look like the before pic to the other bathing suit before pic. Oh, Abigail, why must you complicate things? I will provide this awesome picture for you:

Woot, woot!!! Abigail got second place in her age group at the MWR 10k. That feeling was ten times better than any feeling a scale can give me, and this recent victory brought that custard free clarity. It's time to beat the pavement and do even better next time...with carbs in my system (smiley face).

PMS + Slow Carb = Epic Fail

     I just wanted to provide with you, my readers, a quick little snip-it about me. Ummm...I'm taking this week to reevaluate the Slow Carb diet. Yes, it works; yes, it's strickt; yes, I get to have fun on Saturdays; but, I just need some time to get back on the horse. I really was excited about taking bathing suit pictures because there was about a day when I was completely rockin' it. I was loving every mirror in my house, which is saying a lot because we have a ton of mirrors. There are multiple opportunities in a day where I can check myself or cringe, and believe you me, I was checkin' out my goods.

     But guess what that day was? That was the one and only day of every second month that I am not PMSing. I swear, I was born to be the slave of my own hormones. There is literally only one day in a blue moon where I am pleasant from start to finish, and that day is usually almost over by the time my husband and I realize that day was had. So, yeah, no bathing suit pics until that day rolls around again. I'm over this whole PMSing bit, and so is my husband. It's bad y'all, and I really try to get my husband to understand that I can't help it. Do you ever just wake up pissed off? I mean, right off the bat, don't touch me, everything sucks pissed off! You know what's funny about that question? Everyone who just answered "Preach it, sister" to that question is female. I wish the men could experience for one day what we experience every month. I love their argument, too, "Well, you girls don't know how bad it hurts to get hit down there." No, no we don't, but we do know what it's like to have the inner lining of our uterus ripped from our insides and pulsed out of us in a slow, soul damaging process EVERY SINGLE MONTH!!!! Here are the things I would like for men to endure:

Lower back cramps
Dull lower tummy cramps that constantly remind them that the inside organs are not happy
Tender boobage
Shrek feet
Shrek hands
Explosive under the skin tender as all get out invisible blemishes
Hot flash that could cause stripping in public
Bleeding solids
Finding out the tampon box that has been under the sink all month has actually been empty the whole time
Walking down the street to experience out of nowhere a knife stabbing pain shooting straight up the abdomen forcing them to stop on their tippy toes and squirm until the pain subsides
Irrational paranoid driven thoughts that make them think they have no purpose but to eat food
Emotional outburst brought on by anything with round eyes or fluffy fur
Trying to wear a weeks worth of outfits that do not have waist bands
Having to go to the bathroom "just to check" that there are no accidents...in our 30s!!!!
An extreme detest for anyone who is ten pounds lighter than they are
Having to stop murdering anyone at any given time for any given reason

Can you tell that today is not that beautiful day my husband and I look forward to? Women are amazing. There's something to be said about a species that can bleed for seven days and not die. Anyway...I'm taking this week to gain control of myself. Seriously, this was the food purchased for a weekend trip to the beach...for two people!! Okay, just one, because my husband was born with self control.

    WHO DOES THAT??? I never ate like that in my life!!! And do you know how much of that came back with us??? Close to none because I ate it all. That's the problem with this diet. I literally go mad, like certifiably insane and overdo it when I'm near food. I eat until I hurt, and that's just not the way a healthy diet should go. Again, I need to gain control.

     I know I'm doing the typical "Abigail isn't following through on her word" bit, but are you understanding the above picture??? Next week is a new week, a week that is void of all the junk on the counter and hopefully the junk in the trunk!

The Ugly Side of Carb Free

     I'm kind of struggling this week. I feel like Betty White could beat me at an arm wrestling competition only using her pinky. When doing this diet, there are days that I feel this way, and that's just part of the process. If one practices this diet long enough, that "I hate the world" feeling eventually goes away. I said eventually...so that really hasn't happened for me yet. To sum it up: I'm bitter.

"Well, Abigail, if you're so bitter, you can always quit this stupid diet and doing something more sensible and possible."

-I know! This is more of a self discipline practice than anything else. I'm trying to show myself that I can be committed to something for more than a couple of weeks. I've not cheated once during the week...not even a little bit!!! I'd hate to throw all of that away now.

"Have you gotten the results that you're looking for? Is being bitter worth it?"

-Are you freakin' serious? Do I have results? Well, apparently not if you're standing there asking me questions. If I had results, you'd look at me and be all, "Wow, where did you go, Flabby Abbey?" I mean, I thought I did until you said that!!! (Hint: never ever ever ever ever ask someone if their diet is working...that's just a punch in their face and a soon to be punch in yours).

"Okay, so what's your plan? You're just going to go around hating life to lose one or two pounds? I can't wait to hang out with you; you're going to be so tolerable (eye roll)."

-Ummm, I'm still working on the long term plan, thank you. I know that I can't do this forever. There are people who do, but if I plan on not being convicted of a felony for holding up a bakery, then I need to figure out a smooth transition into a regular eating pattern.

"You know what would help? You not going all psycho on your cheat days...you could use that day to eat your fruits and whole grains."

-BLASPHEMY!

     Well, it's only a few days until I give myself a final weigh in, but then I remembered that the bikini pictures were taken on the 8th of July, so I actually have until the 8th of August. I'm definitely going to wait until that day to do the pictures. I'm feeling bloated and murderous...bikini pictures are not on the top of my To Do list right now. Anyway, this was just a quick snip it of my week...blog venting, if you will. And here are some thoughts that have crossed my mind this week:

Talking to my girlfriend on the phone yesterday:

Her: "How's the diet?"

Me: "I'd slap your mother through the face for an Oreo right now."

*  "Sugar free Jello would be a lot better if it was a Kit Kat."

*  "It's not that I want to be thin, I just want everyone else to be really fat."

Talking to a coworker about what it's like living in Korea:

Me: "All the women here are so beautiful."

Her: "Yeah, it's hard. In America you'd be considered somewhat fit, but here you're a big girl."

Me: ...death stare....

Husband tells me to make grocery list for cheat day:

Me: "Challenge accepted!"

Yesterday, I chewed one and a half packs of gum just to taste something sweet...c'mon weekend!!

My Weekend in a Pecan Pie Shell

     Friday 27, 10:12 p.m., I just finished cleaning house, working out, showering, and thawing cake as well as banana bread. That's right, people, it's Cheat Day Eve. I've kept myself super busy, so I wouldn't stare at the clock while trying to huff a can of icing. When I wake up tomorrow morning, the eating fest begins, hence the thawing of carbs. Before I get carried away with the excitement of tomorrow, I thought I'd give you a very brief glimpse of what this past week entailed.

     This past week: nothing exciting...except that I found chicken in a can that has a pop top; that was pretty cool. I carried it in my purse and ate it for lunch one day...yeah...that's about it.

      I would like to point out that I weighed in on Monday after the cheat day, and wow, it was a big five pounds heavier. But get this, my soon to be jealous peeps, by Wednesday morning, the five pounds was gone again. That's beautiful. I'm pretty sure that moment I stepped on the scale and saw that I was not damaged by my binge eating was the same moment that Kelly Clarkson stopped in her tracks to sing out loud, "A moment like this...some people wait a lifetime...." She's probably still confused as to why she felt the need to burst into random song, but we know why. I do not attest at all that my weight went down from a very intense run on Tuesday morning lead by my self-proclaimed (as in that I self-proclaimed her, she did not) running coach, or the fact that my girlfriend and I did another five mile trapse later that evening. Nope...exercise had nothing to do with it, it's just the beauty of the diet (rolling my eyes, here! Exercise for me is a must if I want to control that badonky-donk I got goin' on back there. Lately it has been a badonky-dunk, but hopefully it will soon be a badonky-what-what-I-wanna-touch-that-butt-butt).

     Another benefit from this past cheat day was that I didn't feel the need to viciously and/or violently maim anyone this week. That's always a bonus! Alrighty, that's enough talk for me. I've got food on the brain and in a few hours, food in the belly :)

SATURDAY

6:22 a.m. -> My dear, sweet cat woke me up at 5:30 this morning just to say hi. We chatted for a little bit and caught up on each other's lives. I work, she sleeps, it was a riveting conversation. After waiting patiently and letting my mind calm down from the acknowledgement that Saturday is finally here, I got out of bed. Now, I have that "oh, how good it is" look from my first sip of coffee. It's definitely not going to be a one cup morning; I made that mistake last week. I'm puttin' our Keurig to work today!


8:41 a.m. -> Two amazing cups of coffee led to three Dunkin' Donuts and about ten Double Stuffed Oreos. I had the intention of eating fruit for breakfast...that didn't last long. Hmmm, all these sweets...I need a pickle!

1:33 p.m. -> Reuben's Cake and pizza: now it's time to get ready to go to Yongsan :)

I made this cake almost three weeks ago for Reuben's second cheat day. We cut it in quarters and froze what was not eaten. We thawed it last week, but did not eat it, back in the freezer it went. What you don't understand is the power of this cake. This is a recipe I made myself, but I promise, it would make Paula Deen proud. That middle layer...yep... chocolate peanut butter fudge infused with Reese Cups. Three weeks ago, before Reuben cut the cake, he took a picture and tweeted it. The cake read: #2: Cheat Days Rule!!! This picture was retweeted by Tim Ferriss himself! My cake was famous on the net!!!!

9:15 p.m. -> I pretty much thought I was going to pass out from the food consumption. I literally had to think about how to put one foot in front of the other. Let's see, on the way to Yongsan, we killed some Swedish Fish and a bag of Kettle Cooked chips. Since I worked so hard at chewing and whatnot, my wonderful husband suggested that I treat myself to pedicure. I've lived in Asia for a year and this was my first pedicure; it was due time. After that special treat, we went to Oasis, and I lost all control at the buffet. I'm pretty sure I ate a spoonful of butter just because it was there; I don't really know. After two rolls, a whole pineapple, a block of cheese, a few burritos, some scoops of ice cream heavily topped with sprinkles, nuts, and a slab of strawberry cake, queso noodles, and a wad of potato salad, I was in intense physical pain and swore I would never eat another bite of food again for the rest of my life tonight. Now that we're home, I'm feeling a lot better. We have a late date night at an 11:00 p.m. showing of the new Batman movie...concession stand...I think so!

1:45 a.m. -> We just got home from watching Batman: holy smokes! That movie was superbly awesome. However, about an hour before the movie, I thought my stomach was trying to recreate the famous scene out of Alien. I knew at any moment, some tiny beast was going to rip through my stomach just to point and laugh at me for being so irresponsible with my gluttonous actions. No concessions were had by me. I couldn't do it. I learned my lesson today: eating to the point of pain is not necessary, nor is it worth it. It might be delicious, but this has scarred me, and I won't be doing it anytime soon.

SUNDAY

     I WANT CAKE!!!! How is it possible that I go to sleep last night with this mindset that I've learned my lesson? I woke up this morning...okay, this afternoon...and started planning my next cheat day already. That's absurd! It's an addiction is what it is. I did get on the scale just now to see what kind of damage was done, and I was shocked that there was only a three pound gain. Last week, I had that huge five pound gain, and I feel that I did more justice to this cheat day. However, last cheat day, I ate right until midnight, and this cheat day, I didn't eat anything after eight, so that probably had a lot to do with it. My goal for this upcoming week is to, of course, lose these new three pounds, but to also drop two more. If you remember, Saturday is the day that I'm suppose to take measurements and bikini pictures. Every time I think about bikini pictures, I hear that sharp stabbing music from Psycho playing in the background somewhere. If these pictures are good, then I'll swear by this diet for the rest of my life. I'll be so stoked that I'll march straight to Baskin Robbins, still in the bikini mind you, and order one scoop of all their flavors....I kid you not. Saturday, I'll spend $100 on ice cream just to celebrate the weight loss. C'mon, an ice cream buffet to celebrate a weight loss? Three words: best diet ever!!! 

CHEAT DAY #1

     It's 6:37 a.m. and I just put my Sourdough Banana Bread in the oven. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but my sourdough starter is going on two months old, so it's pretty much the best starter in the world. I woke up super early this morning for many reasons: 1) Seyo has this new obsession with attacking my non moving eyelashes when I'm asleep. She beats me in the face with her stubby little paws, crams her nose in my eye socket, and takes her sandpaper tongue over the softest part of my eyelids. Needless to say, this wakes me up every flippin' morning around 4 a.m. 2) It's cheat day, and I wanted to get a head start on wrapping my mind around the awesomeness that will take place. 3) I had to pee, and I mean it was one of those bladder crippling needs. The good thing about this diet is my husband and I are drinking about a gallon of water a day. Apparently this morning, I had to pee out a gallon and a half.

     So, as I stumble into the bathroom, I notice that I feel a little different. Ladies know this feeling, and ladies love this feeling. It's that feeling of, "Whoooooaaaaaaaa, I wanna get on the scale!!!!!!" Never ever ever ever ever does that happen, men, but when it does, you best get to steppin'. There are mornings I wake up and feel like I am so bloated that I could put the Michelin Man out of business. And then there are days when it feels I just did weighted squats to get my hefty butt out of the bed, but not this morning. This morning was a "I don't feel my skin folding on itself" morning. I ripped off my 4XL Alabama Jersey (my nightgown) and looked in the mirror. I like what I see, people!!! My tummy was flat-ish. Well, it was flatter. But I guess that's not saying much; it was more like my stomach was a fully inflated balloon, and now it's not so inflated. Anyway, I run across my room resembling an Olympic gymnast and jump on the scale. Those two pounds I talked about yesterday -> GONE, SUCKER...AND THEY TOOK AN EXTRA TWO POUNDS WITH IT!!!

    That averages out to a two pound weight loss in two weeks: let's celebrate with cake!!! I need to give a huge shout out to my husband who is down twenty pounds in three weeks. He, like me, will spend the day destroying this accomplishment. My husband was asleep when I was doing the victory dance on the scale, but as I was dancing, I realized that I was in front of an open window in the buff, and a feeling swept over me. You'd think it'd be, "Oh snap, move, Abigail." I couldn't appreciate the humor of the situation because a worrisome feeling entered my soul, "Uhhhh, results on a cheat day? What should I do?" As much as I want to relish in deep fried foods, I feel void of want now. What if I can't step up to the plate? (No pun intended...hahahahhahahahahahahaha). I feel that my cheat day may not be as epic as I want because I don't want to jinx the upcoming week. I feel good right now. Stupid scale with good numbers on it. Anyway, I guess you can tell that since I did hop up and make a loaf of bread that some damage will be done, but notice, I only made one loaf...I had intended to make two. My conscience is already taking over my mind.

    Okay, I'll tune in throughout the day and update everyone on what my first cheat day entails.

6:59 a.m. -> The one rule is that I have to start my day with at least 40 grams of protein. I had half a can of chicken because I couldn't bare to look at an egg white right now. No gagging on cheat day!!! That's not the full 40 grams, but I'm just not hungry right now. I refuse to eat when it's not needed or wanted (this will be the only time today that I mutter those words).

8:02 a.m. -> Coffee...beautiful, creamy colored, sweetened coffee. My "will I cheat on cheat day?" anxiety is leaving me one sip at a time...

I've been drinking my coffee black, something I hate. Adding my cream and sugar is only something my mother can truly appreciate.

8:28 a.m. -> I got really excited about the bread. I sliced the first half and made it all pretty, but then I was like, "Forget this, homie," and I dumped some more on my plate. Just took my first bite: shut up!

I ate mine, and then I ate Reuben's...I'm not gonna lie, I'm feelin' a little queasy. It's too early in the cheat day for that nonsense.

9:32 a.m. -> I just threw up involuntarily, of course. Cheat Day 1, Abigail 0.

3:30 p.m. -> Okay, I'd say that I have successfully recovered since this morning. I think my body was freaking out a little bit when I shoved all the deliciousness in it at once. I felt a little questionable during church, so it didn't take much to talk me out of the breakfast buffet at Mitchell's. We took a nice ride to Camp Casey and found many wonderful treats over there. 

Anyone who lives in Korea knows how dangerous this bag is. Tapioca Doughnut Sticks....ahhhh...

Buffalo Chicken Sammie and Cheese Fries, those who know me know that I would never eat this on any given day. Well, that's the beauty of cheat day :)

My best friend chowing down on his cheat day treat.

After all of this food, I'm actually feeling really good. On the way home, I killed a bag of Cracker Jacks and then some Peanut M&Ms. I've not had those two items in about five years or so. Life is good...

6:24 p.m. -> I just got up from a nap and went straight to the fridge for some cake!

The Pinterest introduced me to the Fudgy Peanut Butter Icebox Cake. Uhhh, I didn't really care for it. You can see how much I made, and you can see how much I ate. This dessert was a little too sweet for this girl, and that's saying a lot. Super easy to make so go ahead and try it yourself :)

7:32 p.m. -> Okay, I've pretty much had it with the sweets today. Pizza time!!!

Demolished half of it...no regrets

11:54 p.m. -> I have six minutes left to this fabulous day and two syllables come to mind:

     Alrighty, cheat day number one has come and gone. I'm not gonna lie; I think I over did it. I definitely satisfied all of my cravings for the next month or two, so next Saturday shouldn't be near as exciting. Today, I literally ate because I could, even if I didn't want it, I ate it. My belly is full and head is swimming. Now, only one more thing before I say goodnight...

Oh, Cheat Day, I Will Own You...

     Do you remember that feeling you used to get as a little kid the night before Christmas? I'd want so badly to go to sleep but it felt like my heart weighed a quadrillion pounds due to all of the excitement. I got this feeling the night before Christmas Eve, Christmas, Mamaw's Christmas, Easter, Valentine's Day, Halloween, Labor Day (uhhh...the rides, of course), and any other event/day/holiday that meant the next day guaranteed candy eating. I really want you to hone in on that feeling...that your stomach is going to fall out of your butt feeling...do you have it? Now, take that feeling multiply it by a million, drink four Red Bulls, snort a Pixie Stick, mainline a Mountain Dew, rob a bank, and top it off with some Starbucks because ladies and gentlemen, that is exactly what I feel like right now. And it's all because it's the night before....CHEAT DAY!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

    The cheat day sets a new standard of being pumped. I feel like I could conquer the world, which is rare because this diet has drained me of energy, intelligence, coordination, and really good "your momma" jokes. Seriously, I have been so off kilter that I quit fixing my hair all together. It was just too hard a task. But today, I'm like, "Bring it on!!!!" Literally, when asked, "Hey, Abigail, do you want to come out tonight and demonstrate Tahitian Belly Dancing at the Gateway Luau?" I answered excitedly, "Uhhhh...yeah!!!! I'll be there with flowers on!!" Never mind the fact that I had no idea what that was, I didn't have the music, nor have been coordinated at all to master this skill in a day. Reuben and I Youtube-d a video of it, and then he looked at me and said, "The things you get yourself into." Did I care, though? Yeah, a little bit, I started to panic, but then I remembered that tomorrow is cheat day, and all stress went away. When talking more about cheat day with Reuben, I got teary eyed because I was so freakishly excited. I did that whole crying-laughing-don't-throw-up routine for a minute or two before I pulled myself together and started menu planning. BTW: the dance went well.

     Now, if you remember the guidelines for this diet, I didn't have much wiggle room for anything fun. The first challenge is to go for the first ten days without any possible cheats, and I didn't cheat once. Well, after the first ten days, I could have my cheat day, but that landed on Wednesday...who cheats on a Wednesday? So I pushed through Thursday, Friday, and today because I had to work, and I wanted my cheat day to be an open calorie filled day that I could share with my husband, hence, tomorrow. The beautiful thing is that I have to have a cheat day; it resets my metabolism for the week. I don't know? I didn't write the book. All I know is that it's the most genius thing I've heard ever. My cheat day can be utterly stupid; there are no rules. I have so many plans for tomorrow that I just don't know what I'm going to do. I made a cake tonight!!! For crying out loud, a whole cake is sitting in the fridge waiting for my fork, and that's just what I'm going to eat before breakfast. Tim Ferriss is going to have to rewrite his book and use me as an example as what not to do on one's cheat day.

     COFFEE...I swear, I am going to use full fat creamer and a cup of sugar. I'll be able to eat my coffee with a spatula because it's gonna be so thick. Kit Kats, they're in the freezer; I've been stock piling them through the week. Pancakes, oh pancakes, tomorrow, I'm going to make a pancake-french toast sandwich and deep fry it in funnel cake batter and top it off with sausage gravy and blueberry doughnut holes. I will literally make my pizza so saucy and cheesy that I will walk down the street and slap someone through the face because they are missing out on something life fulfilling. Apples, holy moly, apples didn't make the cut for tomorrow; sorry, guys, maybe next cheat day. Gummy Bears, treat this as a warning.

     I told Reuben that he might be embarrassed of me tomorrow. I'm going to destroy my body so badly  that I'm going to make a Sumo wrestler look like he has an eating disorder. Sometimes I stop to think if I should get that crazy with the whole cheat day theme. Just because I can doesn't mean I should. I think about those same words when I hear someone wants to get pregnant...cough cough...Snooki...cough. Before I went on the Slow Carb diet, I was still really diligent about what I ate. I didn't go around eating crap all of the time; I lived off fruit, dairy, and bread...the three things I can't have at all. In that case, I plan to make sure to have those tomorrow: Chocolate Walnut Sourdough Banana Bread (fruit...check; bread...check) for breakfast; Fudgy Peanut Butter Icebox Cake (cream cheese = dairy...check) for snack; and Kit Kats (vegetable...check) for any of those moments I find myself not chewing. After church, I'm pitching a tent at the Mitchell's Breakfast Buffet. I'm literally going to set up camp and eat until they feel the need to charge me for another meal. Let's be honest, I'll probably put a straw in the syrup.

     If you remember, I did say that I was going to weigh in and keep everyone posted on the results. Well, the results are I hate your face and tomorrow is my cheat day and I'm takin' it no matter what that blasted scale said!!!! Needless to say, I didn't lose weight...in fact, I weighed two pounds more than what I did when I started the diet. However, when I started the diet, I was a week into a new lifting regimen. Now, I'm three weeks into the lifting schedule, and I do feel stronger. I'm not creating excuses, though, there's a reason that I gained the two pounds. Since I've been doing this, my stomach abilities have come to a screeching halt, if you know what I mean. But I don't mind so much because now I get to drink Metamucil in the mornings, and that's the closest thing I have to a dessert. I don't know why I gained the weight; Reuben told that happens sometimes and to just stick with it. I didn't take my measurements, either. I decided the bathing suit pictures and measurements will be a once month thing. August 8th, I'll update my pictures and do a little before and after comparisons.

     Okie dokie, I need to hurry up and go to bed because the sooner I sleep, the sooner I eat!!! Yay, for CHEAT DAY!!!!

   

Farewell Carbs...Hello Kit Kats!!!

     Renee Zellweger once said, "Eating one Twinkie is fun; eating ten Twinkies is not," when she was asked about her feelings on having to gain weight for certain movie roles. When I heard this, I instantly wanted an oatmeal pie. I mean, Twinkies are cool and all, but oatmeal pies are where it's at. Especially if I had to eat ten of them. I can't begin to imagine...(enter foggy dream sequence)...

"Mrs. Incredibly Gorgeous oh so Famous Abigail Newton the Miraculous," yelled the director. 

"Um, yes...what can I do for ya? I'm in the middle of my butt lift videos 'cause my cellulite is draggin'...I didn't think it was possible, but it is!" I scream back.

"No, Perfect Abigail! You must stop at once!! You are not near fat enough for this role. I demand you to eat these ten boxes of oatmeal pies. I will fire you if there is evidence that you have been lifting your butt!! Go on now, take this complete set of Sex and the City DVDs, and be gone at once. Do nothing but watch hours of tv and eat. Once you are finished with the oatmeal pies, I'll bring in Ham and Cheese Hot Pockets...not Lean Pockets...HOT POCKETS, and you must eat them all!!!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO....why me?!?!?!?!?!?!? Oh wait...don't workout, eat all I want!!! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS....go me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

    And then I wake up in a cold sweat with an empty jar of peanut butter while gnawing on my cat's leg. Pffftttt...how could eating not be fun? It's my favorite hobby! My favorite hobby used to be working out, but that was cursed with having an amazing body, being healthier overall, having the willpower to say no, understanding the rights and wrongs of the health industry, and rocking killer legs with a nice, tight booty that won me my husband. Besides landing me an amazing husband, why would I want a body like that...it's boring!!! Okay, can you tell I'm a bit in denial? 

    My body has changed dramatically, and it's all because of my new found hobby of nonstop eating. In my last post, I said that I was starting over. Be proud of me because I did and I am still doing so. I was so scared for the longest time to try something new because I thought I knew what was best for me. Well, as this year has progressed, I have proven to myself that I don't know jack about jill, and it's time for me to get educated on something else. I decided that I needed to try something brand new, something that I have never even tried to look at because I knew I would fail epically...Low Carb Diet!!

     "What???? Abigail, how could you????" 

      I know, I know, but I just want to see what happens. 

      "You know what's going to happen. You're going to lose all this weight, and then one day decide to eat a piece of bread. You'll eat that bread, and you're body and waistline will explode quicker than a Mentos in a shaken Diet Coke!"

      And if that happens, so be it. But I want to learn about this kind of lifestyle. I want to see what other habits, ideas, and recipes I can adopt from trying something this extreme.

      "Kit-Kats are carbs! What are you going to do about that...?"

      And this is the beauty of the diet...I can eat all the Kit Kats I want on Saturdays! Back to my favorite hobby!!!

My husband introduced me to this diet called the Slow Carb Diet out of the book The 4 Hour Body  written by Tim Ferriss; you may have heard of his other book The 4 Hour Work Week. I have read the book, and it is too interesting not to try. I was skeptical at first. I told Reuben that I did not believe in any book that says fruit and dairy are bad for you. But it's not so much about that; it's more about what your body truly needs to function. This man pointed out what I fear for myself everyday: we've lost the ritual of eating because we need to, we eat because we want to. I now understand the difference between the need and the want. I'll go into those details in a later post. Anyway, I watch my husband try this diet...three weeks later and seventeen pounds lighter, I'm like, "Sign me up, now!"And so he gave me the book and his best wishes. The diet is simple:

"Rule #1: Avoid “white” carbohydrates (or anything that can be white). 

Rule #2: Eat the same few meals over and over again. 

Rule #3: Don’t drink calories. 

Rule #4: Don’t eat fruit.

Rule #5: Take one day off per week and go nuts."   (Tim Ferriss, The 4 Hour Body)

I have been doing this diet for one week tomorrow. Tomorrow I will weigh in, and I will write an instant update on my weight and my thoughts for this past week. I'm not gonna lie; this week was rough. Reuben had to work nights this last week, so I barely got to see him. And then on top of that Aunt Flow came and brought Uzi in her suitcase. To put it mathematically: Period + No Carbs - my husband = death and destruction and move out the way and is that a doughnut and bawling uncontrollably and come here kitty cat just let me love you and omg I will kill you and I hate this salad and do not look at my face and is it time to eat yet and my jeans hurt and Mrs. Newton is not in the mood and I hate today and thank God for sugar free jello and..........

Sooooo....I'm hoping for some sort of results tomorrow. Reuben has had amazing results, and I've seen him have two cheat days already. It's ridiculous what this man ate! I made his Triple Chocolate Reese Cup Fudge Cake, we call it "his" because that's what I make on his birthdays, for this past cheat day. He got to eat it!!! And, sigh, I got to watch. But my day is coming soon enough...I will show Renee Zellweger that eating ten of anything is not only fun, but probably one of the best parts of life.

Alright, warning time, bathing suit pictures of the current me. I really wanted to go all the way with this and take weekly or bi weekly pictures to see if this diet is actually making changes on my body. Here's the first set...I've not yet had a second set made. I figured that even if I flake out of this diet, I'll have motivation to do whatever it takes to get a good second set of pics, so people don't remember me this way. Oh bless...here they are:

July 8, 2012...those thighs are BFFs

Saddle bags? More like vomit bags...

Doughy...I'm all doughy

Well, I have officially exposed myself....I'm sorry for any reoccurring nightmares that might be related to such images. But I can assure you, be ready to see some change...

    

Welcome to Class, Fat

Quick, solve this problem:

Solve the trigonometric equation given by

sin(x) + sin(x/2) = 0 for 0 ≤ x ≤ 2 pi


Bahahahaha, I have no idea what this means! I use to know at some point. I know, right? I just shocked the blue off of your jeans. When I was in school, I was really good at math, but only the math in which was I was enrolled. I knew Algebra only in Algebra, Geometry only in Geometry, and Calculus only in Neverland. If you asked me a week into summer about a math problem, I'd say, "Je ne parle pas Englais." It amazes me the stuff that I can forget when it goes unpracticed. As you can see by my mad linguistic skills above, I use to be bangin' in the French department; I took it for ten years!!!! The last four years was because college made me. I never understood why if I was majoring in English Education, I had to take four years of a foreign language. I guess to make me appreciate our language even more, or they had a plan to make Madame Larmon retire early. Bless that poor woman. I was a straight up French speaking flibbertigibbet. The one thing I did master quickly was, "Je voudrais de assistance maintenau, sil vous plait." (Everything in there is close to being spelled wrong.) I'm sure you can see that I am saying, "I would like some help now, please." My other two favorite things to say when asked a question was, "Je n'sais pas" (I don't know) or "pomme de terre" (potato). Again, this skill went unpracticed, and aye me, I have forgotten it. Not that knowing French right now could help me in Korea, but it would be fun to take that language on a test drive here. If I took everything that I knew at one point in my life and put it back into my brain, I'd gain the respect of Tony Stark. The Most Interesting Man in the World would create word quips about me that I would spat upon because they'd be feeble-minded attempts to capture my brilliance and poise. 


Knowledge isn't the only thing that ski-daddles when it just sits on a shelf. Nope, knowledge has a best friend called ability. I will randomly do my splits just to make sure that I can do them. For some reason, I do not want to lose that ability, so I'm like WHA-BAM, split. I see that I can still do it, I smile in my own little spotlight, then I stand to retrieve ice from the kitchen to numb what ever tendons I just tore in two. I'll spend the next two days using handicap bathrooms and taking one stair at a time, but hey, I can still do my splits. Now, it wouldn't be near as dramatic if I practiced them everyday like I did when I was an active dancer....which wasn't yesterday as much as I think that it is. But why would I practice that? Why would I take the time out of my day to sharpen an ability that leads to nothing productive? Why not? Practice makes perfect, right? And what's wrong with a little perfection.


I see this pattern with my weight and my fitness goals. Did you know that I have had this blog for an entire year? Did you realize that I am quickly approaching my one year anniversary of leaving the states? If you went back and read my blog posts for this past year, you'd see that I'm a repeat offender. They all start off with something like, "I hate my fat; I hate that she's skinny; let me workout like a fiend...uh oh...Kit Kat attack!!!" Anyone could read these posts and just get annoyed; heck, I get annoyed, and I'm me. My problem is that I've spent a year legitimately out of practice. I know I've hinted here and I've planned there, but truth be told, I'm out of healthy living mode.


The problem with once having lost a bunch of weight and becoming a gorgeous piece of human perfection is that we think we know the solution to having that success again. We've done it once, and we know it all; however, that sneaky little "unpracticed = unknowing" law took place, and we didn't realize it.  For instance, I was most successful with Weight Watchers; I think this is the best diet plan in the world. It taught me so much, and I went from uhhhhh to whoa in a matter of weeks. When I try to do that diet again, I flib up the whole thing because I think I know it all, and I'm not being truthful to myself or my gut. I think that if I'm not eating chicken and broccoli, that I can just eat whatever I want because those are the only two things I can eat to be on track. The same year I was most successful with that diet was the year that I started working out, and I taught myself how to run. Now, I have it embedded into my brain that my workouts need to be structured a certain way for me to have results. I want to only do what I did then. I ran four to five miles everyday, now I think that if my run is anything less than four miles, it's not worth the effort and goes undone. This causes me to skip workouts that might be different because I think they can't possibly give me any results. Don't you know that sitting on the couch and venting on the computer is so much more productive than doing a physical activity????


I can't solve that math problem at the top of the screen; if you can, good for you. I'll write a haiku in your honor. I can't speak anymore French than what I've already shown you. I have two scars on my left leg from riding a bike for the first time after ten plus years of not being on one. I have forgotten these things, but it doesn't mean that I can't relearn them. It would be difficult, or possibly painful at first, but it would be familiar, and then soon, it would be knowledge, and then it would return to it's status as ability, but instead of ditching it at that point, hopefully it would go from ability to habit.


I need to relearn how to be healthy. I need to act like I've never worked out before, I've never counted a calorie before, I've never reached a goal before, I've never given it my all before...I need to start from the beginning. I don't need to compare it to a past experience because it really won't compare. I'll never be able to ride a bike like I did when I was seven, and I'm okay with that. I'm older, my body is different, my butt can't stand the pain of the bike seat, and I have a different mindset, and that is all okay. I won't have a weight loss story like I did when I was twenty-three. I'm literally going to start over and hang up my "know it all" status. Instead of thinking that it has to do with "eating only these meals" or "running this many miles" I'm going to reteach my body what it wants and what it can do. I can tell you that my weight loss story/healthy living journey at twenty-seven is going to be epic. 

A Passport, a White Dress, a Pregnancy Test, and an Amazing Fiance...

So...I've been staring at my computer screen for going on like ten minutes...eleven minutes...twelve minutes...twenty-eight minutes, but actually the twenty-eight doesn't really count because I had to look away to stare at my cat. She stared back. I was told that when you make eye contact with an animal that you should never be the first one to look away, that gives away your role as the dominant species. Seyo looks me in the eyes, which means "challenge accepted." She doesn't blink; she hones in on the deepest part of my psyche and beats down any thing that resembles dominance. She lost this round, I think. She finally just stood up to run over and bite me on the leg. I guess that's her way of saying, "scr#w you, I win." Anyway, I was staring at the computer because I have something that I want to share/celebrate, but I don't just want to throw down words. I want to find the most magical combination of my linguistic skills to share this story. I'd call up my good buddy Jason Mraz, the most talented makin-words-work man ever, but with the time difference and all...geesh. This story isn't of my weight, or a workout, or a diet, or a successful shopping trip, or an amazing meal, or an ah-ha moment, or any of the topics that usually show up on this blog. This is the story of my husband and I sealing the deal here in South K to the O to the Rea a year ago today.

When Reuben and I started dating, he was living in Oklahoma and I was living in North Carolina. One night, as I was being my overly emotional self, I asked him how in the world were we going to make this work. I didn't understand how couples did the long distance thing, and I just didn't feel like I was cut out for it. And I put my foot down and told him under no circumstance was I going to leave North Carolina!!! He didn't miss a beat. His response was this: "Abigail, you ask me how are we going to make this work. I ask you, how can we not make this work?" He had me, I was butter in his hands. We dated; it was good.

Reuben took leave and came to North Carolina for Christmas. During those two weeks, he met my family, swooned my cat, and didn't run for the hills when he saw me without makeup. He's a keeper!!

After the New Year, Reuben went back to Oklahoma, and I went back to eating cookie dough. I was so sad the day he left. I literally went to the gym that morning to teach my fitness class and then followed that with a trip to Ingles to choose my assortment of 12-72 doughnuts. No lie, I had all the doughnuts eaten by the time I got home. That's less than ten miles. What can I say? I'm an emotional eater and doughnuts are delicious with or without emotions. You could be lacking a soul and still be hypnotized by the power of the glaze. Fast forward to March: I flew to Oklahoma to see Reuben's Warrant Officer graduation. I flew out, and we were driving back to North Carolina over the next few days. We were meeting his family in Florida, and all sorts of goodies were taking place. Little did I know this was the trip where he was going to propose. We were at Grayton Beach, just the two of us, and that's when he got down on one knee. I couldn't even say yes; I just stood there, yelling loudly, "Are you serious?" I said that so many times that he started to get worried. But I just couldn't (still can't)  wrap my mind around the fact that he chose me; he wanted to be with me?!? I am a lucky girl.

Minutes after he popped the question. I was all smiles.

Everyone knew that Reuben was going to propose, but I was so caught off guard that I just walked around like bumbling idiot...I was stupidly, literally on the stupid part, happy. The plan was that he was going to leave for Korea, and I was going to stay home. He'd come home in October, we'd make it legal, and then he would finish his assignment. I went ahead and bought a dress because I knew that a wedding was going to be had.

Uhhhhhh...he was in Korea for three weeks when he told me that we couldn't wait for us...us deserved to happen now. And I said, "YEAH!!!" Plane tickets were bought; I was going to Korea to get me a husband! Then I was going to rush back to start the CSP process, so my trip to Korea had to go just right.

It took some time...

but I made it.

June 3, 2011, was probably the most stressful day of my life. We wake up all bright and chipper, ready to get our union on. There was an endless amount of paperwork!!!

One of 164,930,217.425 pieces of paperwork that we had to complete.

We head to the legal department on base...and that's where the headache started. We have our personal wanna-get-married novel of paperwork in our hands, and of course, they were the wrong forms. The forms that were the right ones had to be typed, not hand written. Kick me in the armpit!! To beat it all, there was a great big sign on the desk that stated that no one was allowed to use the office computers to print papers. Without saying a word, I have the power to make soldiers comply to my wishes. I'm not flirt, and I didn't show any leg, no no no. I release a pheromone in the air that is oddly similar to napalm, and those soldiers were going to burn. Once we finished typing our forms on their computer, we had to see the head Korean dude. We walk into his office and the first thing I noticed was that he was seventy years old going on mummy. He rejects all of our papers because of a misplaced comma. I released my pheromone; he does not bend. Oh no...

We fix the comma. He looks at the papers, looks at me, and says, "Yeah, okay, you geh me pah-g-noncy tast."

Me: "Ummm, I'm sorry?"

Master Splinter:  "Uhhh...yeah, okay, you geh me pah-g-noncy tast. You pah-g-nant? You geh me tast."

Me: "No, sir, I'm not pregnant, nor do I have pregnancy test in purse."

Master Splinter: "You go to clinac, ge ah tast. Dey dwah youh blad. Dey tell me you pah-g-nant."

Me: "You really need me to submit a pregnancy test?"

Master Splinter: "You go to Kowean dactaw, go naw."

Me: chin tremble 

(Keep in mind that we need to do all of this before the US Embassy stops taking applications...4ish, and we had already been there for an hour and some change, now this! I also felt fat since he kept insisting a pregnancy test. He wouldn't take no for an answer.)

We leave, and I'm all panicky. We were suppose to take our forms to the Korean officials and get married under Korean law first, that place was across town. I told Reuben not to breathe a word about a freaking pregnancy test; we were just going to act like it never happened. We get to the place and stand in a long line. After what felt like forever, this nice Korean girl takes our paperwork. She's typing away, yay...she's typing, this is it, we're getting married at that very minute---wait, what's that look on her face? Oh, no you don't, girl, you do not stop typing---she stops, shakes her head, and gives us the papers back. We needed two witnesses. We had no one. I get all teary eyed, and we tell her that we didn't have anyone with us. She spoke no English whatsoever and looked at us like we were dumber than kimchi. She kept saying something to us, so I kept asking random strangers to sign a paper they couldn't even read. They would walk away quickly. I can't imagine why; there's a crazy American with running mascara asking for a signature to a paper that could possibly say they were signing over their first born. Needless to say, we got witnesses. Woot woot, we were married because Korea said so!! And there was nothing about a pregnancy test, Master Splinter!!!

The next step was to get our papers translated because there wasn't a lick of English besides our names on these papers. We couldn't file them at the US Embassy in Korean. We are literally walking on the road for two minutes when we see this tent thing set up on the side walk: Translations. Hmmm, we go in, he takes our won and our marriage papers (my heart stopped beating) and ran off. That was it. Zoom, peace out, y'all; there goes our papers. I was concerned for a minute, like hey, what if he just ganked our SSNs? We just had to trust it, and I'm glad we did. The translations came back all notarized fancy like. We were big smiles!! We now knew that our marriage license did say that we were married. To the US Embassy!!!

Okay, going into the US Embassy on a Friday afternoon is very similar to the Waffle House at 3 a.m., the Social Security Office at 2 p.m., or Wal-Mart at insert hour a.m./p.m.; and of course, it had a line like the DMV. It was cute, though. That was our last part of are-we-gonna-actually-get-married-today scavenger hunt. You could tell the other couples who were waiting to get their papers filed, too. They were all cute in their own way. Well, of course, we start talking with another couple, and we both had a maddening day. They yank out their paperwork to make a point, and I notice that we didn't have that yellow form or the blue form. They looked at ours, they didn't have certain papers either. Well, crap. We were the first couple up to bat, nervous as all get out because no one knew what papers were needed, and if they were going to ask for a preg test, I was going to release the napalm. My nerves were shot! We waited for over an hour, and we finally go to the window with papers in hand. This gynormous Jamaican lady takes our papers. I didn't even look her in the eye. I did the whole "if I can't see you, you can't see me" routine. We wait, and wait, and wait, while she looks at each paper. At that moment, I found myself praying for no misplaced commas. She finally told us to put up our right hands; that magical moment was finally here. I was going to get to say I do to the man of my dreams. But I didn't say I do; when Reuben said, "I do," I said, "Yes, ma'am." She made me nervous. Our papers were filed!!! Reuben Newton is my husband!!!

...and he was so happy about it, as you can see.

We exchanged rings in the parking lot of the embassy.

That was such a long, stressful day, but well worth it. You're wedding day is suppose to be stressful!! All I wanted was for this man to be my husband, and I wasn't sure if that was going to be the case on that particular day. Looking back on it now, I can see that I overreacted at times, but man, it sure was scary living it. It's Reuben Newton for crying out loud. He's the best man I know; he's gorgeous, funny, smart, intuitive, compassionate, snuggly, comforting, strong, easy going, respectful, sensitive, mindful, and he takes my breath away every time I see him. He could literally walk out of the room just to turn around and walk back in, and I'm taken back. I can't believe he's mine. He's my husband...wow.

So, yeah, that little adventure took place a year ago today (remember that we are a day ahead of you, state side peeps). For the longest time, I had to listen to people say that they were married to their best friend. I just didn't think that was possible. It was such a foreign concept to me. But now, I feel that I could write a book on it. My husband isn't just my best friend, but he's every role that I need. I never knew trust, I never knew the true meaning of unconditional, I never even knew love until I met him. I was dead set on never leaving North Carolina, leaving my home. But he plays that role for me, as well. He is my home. I'd follow this man to the ends of the Earth. I joke with him and tell him that he could do so much better than me, but until he finds that out, I'm taking full advantage of our situation. The truth is, though, he couldn't do better than me. He deserves to be with someone who sees him for who he is and then prays to God every night that Reuben would some day be blessed enough to himself like I do. There is not a single person on this planet that could love him better than I could. And if there was a girl stupid enough to try...demolish. So yeah, since he is this incredible, he's worth leaving North Carolina, because as I said before, he's my home.

I could be a size 2, I could be that fit girl in the gym, I could create an innovative diet system that incorporates Dunkin Donuts and make a millions of dollars, but all of that wouldn't matter if I didn't have my husband. He is my greatest accomplishment, as is our marriage. During the whole time Reuben and I have known each other, we've never spent more than three weeks together (pre marriage life). Most of the time, we weren't even in the same time zone. So our first year of marriage was equivalent to others' first year of dating. We had a lot to learn about each other, and boy, did we ever. We learned that it gets better everyday. I love you, Reuben Newton, thank you for being you.

June 3, 2011, the happy couple.

October 22, 2011, our stateside wedding ceremony.

All I'm saying is that if you're lucky enough to be married to your best friend, then I hope you acknowledge the specialness of that situation as much as I do. Make sure they know exactly how you feel. Say thank you, say I love you, say I appreciate you...because to be in that kind of a relationship is truly a gift from God.

Health Tag...I'm It!!!

     This post is quite neat because it was not Abigail inspired whatsoever. That pretty much saves you from a lot of rambling and tangents that I often model in my writing, and my talking, and my life...I'm a constant rambling tangent. A girlfriend of mine, Cathy, - am I allowed to call a previous boss a girlfriend?- forwarded me a questionnaire about fitness. A little secret that you may not know about me: I freakin' love questionnaires and/or quizzes. I can't tell you the hours I have spent on the internet filling out quiz after quiz to figure out what perfume best compliments my personality, which jelly I would enjoy most with peanut butter, if I am shaped more like a pear or an hour glass, or which Disney princess I would be in real life (I'd always answer so that I could be most like Ariel, even if I was lying...I needed to be her). Questionnaires are a bit better than a quiz because you get to fill in the blank, so when this little diddy was forwarded to me, I was like, "Yes, please!!!!" This particular one is about fitness and having a healthy lifestyle; I found it really interesting and inspiring to read the other comments. The rules state that I must answer each question in twenty words or less. I've never been much of a rule follower....

1. What was your "ah-ha moment" in caring for your health (mind, body, and soul)?

• January 2008, and sporadic moments before then, I had to turn my life around. I remember purposely buying shoes that I could slip on in order to avoid bending over to tie my shoes. For some reason, that made more sense then buying jeans that actually fit. I would literally lose my breath and redden in the face because my jeans were squeezing me in half, creating a nice crease and button imprint on my fat that would stay there for hours after the jeans were taken off...  wake up call.

2. What has been your funniest or most embarrassing workout moment?

• Hot Yoga: an hour and a half of intense movement and heat. At the end, I laid on my mat and cried. I couldn't control myself; I was delirious. But I didn't feel too badly because the girlfriend that came with me who was beside me threw up. I was crying, and she was puking-we didn't go back. 

3. Playlist?

• I do not have a set playlist for cardio, weights, or stretching, I have 800 songs on my Ipod that range from Bread, Fall Out Boy, Jason Mraz, Shaggy, Eminem, Reba, Glee Cast, The Chipmunks, Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, Poison, and anything else random. BPMs really don't motivate me to go faster, but a good song does. I make a fool out of myself with my treadmill dancing, but I don't care. 

4. Favorite Workout Gear?

• I love me some Danskin sport bras and capri pants of any kind. I have to wear a razor back tank of some sort; they don't slip off of my shoulders like a spaghetti strap tank can. My favorite running shoes are Brooks; they are heaven on my poor, jacked up feet. I am struggling with the socks, though. I need some sock help. Socks put me in a bad mood because it'll say something ridiculous like "Fits sizes 5-11." That's impossible!!!! It cannot do that! I wear a 6.5 and the sock heal is pulled up to my calf!!! I need some good, small socks that fit!

5. Favorite Workout?

• Dancing in a bar on the dance floor. I leave soaking wet from sweat, and I'm not ashamed. Seriously, I love it. I'm going to go to the club one day in my workout gear and a sweatband and do what I do best...make a scene. Girls are gonna be all like, "What is she doing? She's a freak." And I'm gonna be all like, "Yeah, homie, I'm gettin' my Jane Fonda on...woot woot." My husband will be at the bar questioning why he married me in the first place. Oh, you mean during the day, hmmm...in all seriousness, if you can get to a Crossfit Gym, that's my favorite. Urban Athletics in Canton had Urban Training...best workout ever!!! I was a beast!!! And now I'm just beastly (sad face).

6. How do you unplug from your day?

• My husband gave me a Kindle with over 900 books on it. There is no hope of me ever being productive when I get home. I like to snuggle at the end of the couch, wedge my feet under my husband's butt, care for the latest Seyo induced laceration, and lose myself in the Kindle. 

7. How do you handle stress?

• I let it build up until something emotional sets it off, like a picture of a confused chimpanzee. I then go missing for up to two days. I will be found in a dark corner eating chocolate icing out of a can and bawling hysterically that I'm fat. My husband will ask what happened, I'll say something about the chimpanzee, dirty dishes, ugly toes, face breakouts, and that my cat hates me. He'll push the hair out of my face, kiss my forehead, and all is better. I'm still working on a healthy way to manage stress, but this works for me. 

8. What's your favorite meal?

• The left side of the menu at Waffle House. But since we do not have a Waffle House in Korea, I guess my favorite meal here is steamed egg and soy bean/tofu soup with a side of rice. My favorite meal in the hizzie is steamed broccoli with a boiled potato...ahhhh...simple but delish!!

9.   How long do you brush your teeth each day?

• Probably around 45 seconds during each session. Bad breath scares me. 

Well, that's it, that's the questionnaire. As simple as those questions are it still made me think about things that I don't usually think about it, such as how I handle stress. I now know that my method above may not be the healthiest outlet, gotta work on that. Until next time :)