I recently read an article on Right Wing News about how fat people are causing global warming. Being that I am 75 to 85lbs overweight at the least I'm assuming that this article must have something to do with me. Apparently, British scientists have linked global warming to our world's ever increasing pounds. Though I am a contributor to this epidemic I have to admit that it sort of makes sense. Overweight people use more fuel to transport themselves around our great planet, in most cases they consume more food and produce more carbon emissions. A bit crazy and a bit sensible at the same time. It makes you think that perhaps if you are overweight you should lose some poundage for the environment. "It's Green to be Lean."

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Ok people. This is my life. I fight back and forth with myself over so many of my issues. I am trying so hard to work on myself in general. The Remediation of an Angry Fat Ass is not just about weight loss. First of all most of the time people who are significantly overweight also suffer from many other issues ranging from depression, to OCD to more and more. I am not different. I don't know for sure why I decided to not care about exercise or health but I did. The same reason I likely stopped caring if my house was clean or if I cooked for myself instead of eating out. Thing is I need to make changes and I am making changes but it is sooooo frustrating that they don't happen as immediately as I feel the need to make them. I am working on my anger issues and how I treat others because we all know I'm a bitch. I don't mind being a bitch because in many ways I feel this gets me at least the treatment I deserve if I'm not going to be given the respect I deserve. People know not to fuck with me. I like that. I don't have to worry about people trying to screw me over as much when I'm a bitch. People know that I'm recording their conversations and that I will use it against them via any means necessary. Those who have challenged me have ended up on the news in a negative light and worse. I don't have a problem doing every thing legal in the books to make sure that you pay for treating me and/or others negatively. So being a bitch is sure helpful in those situations. People challenge me, I remind them I'm a bitch, they think it doesn't mean anything, I show them proof via email links to some of the news stories I've been involved with, I quote laws to them off the top of my head, they threaten me, I mention to them that threats don't scare me - I grew up in rural Oklahoma, I learned to shoot a gun and fight at a young age and then practiced it in the military - I am smart enough to make copies of everything and make sure they can be found in multiple locations - I have documents and recordings that are left with others along with instructions to publish them if anything happens to me - my father is the type of guy who may very well "punish" anyone who would injure or kill me in any way. I am safe and if I am not then those who fuck with me will become unsafe. Life is good as a bitch so I am having a hard time relinquishing my anger for fear that the bitch in me will leave too. I remember the old peaceful me that was so sweet and loving and hopeful though. Where is she? I need her to come back if nothing else to protect my relationship. I have a hard time turning off the bitch when I get home. I am trying though. I hope it all works out. In the end I hope to be a hot looking, buff, somewhate skinny, long haired, dread locked, lesbian with a great job, great friends, and a great relationship. Ah - the journey ahead. I have promised myself I won't cut my hair until I have acheived this and so far my locks have reached the beginning of my ass. In the next 3 or 4 years I could be hanging myself by them while I sleep they are so long. Wish me luck people.... Wish me luck.

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Hello all who care about my fat ass. I am still here though I'm not having much to say lately. I am busy that's for sure and this month is my birthday so I'm older and because my great lovely state makes all my car related crap due the month of your birthday all my money is gone too. Life is grand right? Oh well. I have been doing little bits and pieces at a time on my work toward becoming a cute, buff, little, peace loving hippie. I have been trying to have a better attitude first of all which has helped my stress level a little bit. I haven't been going nuts with my road rage lately, I didn't throw my computer across the room the other day when it started shutting down and dumping the memory. That's progress right? I'm still having negative thoughts though. For example, just the other day I watched Sara Silverman (I think that's her name) dog Paris Hilton out and I thought it was great! Viacom yanked the video from You Tube like the losers they are (oops there goes the negative me again) but oh well. I think it's great that Paris has to serve time cause I think it's about time that money doesn't buy you a way out of jail any more. Next we have to get that to work the same with men as it does with women and put people like those Enron fuckers in jail, after that we can start yanking politicians out of their seats and throw them in the can too. So much for the peace loving hippy routine huh? Oh well, at least I'm a little better maybe 5% but still that's better than the zero I used to be.

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Hello All. I've made myself a goal of walking every day until I've done it at least a month. The purpose is to get myself in a bit better shape. My lungs and heart most specifically. I figure if I walk every day I may or may not lose weight but the purpose is to get the aerobic lung/heart muscles worked out. Once I've managed to do this every day for a month then I'm gonna start some strength training. In the mean time I'm gonna pretend I don't know anything about strength training. When I'm able to have the will power to walk every day for 30 minutes without coming up with an excuse for one day or another then I'll worry about that. So how's the goal coming along you may ask? I'm about 40% successful. Basically, that means that I've walked during this month starting on May 1st but only about 40% of the days so far in the month. Oh well. I started at least. Eventually I'll do it every day. Maybe next month. I've got to figure out a way to keep focused and to make this important. What happens is that I get home and I see a cloud in the sky or I think about all the laundry I've left undone and then I scam out of the whole thing.

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Ok. So I've taken the step of making a "fat ass" blog. I've done all sorts of journaling. I've taken the dive into the deep dark trenches of myself to figure out why what where blah blah blah the beginning of my fat. I've admitted that I look better in my mind than I do in a mirror. I've admitted that I'm addicted to fast food. I am a part of the fast food nation.
Now What?!? Where do I go from here? What in the hell is my purpose beyond a bit of blogging and journaling? I have to set some goals. What the hell are they? Ok here goes.
I know I want to be healthier. Not necessarily as it relates to fat. I want to have a good immune system. I don't want to get sick so often. I don't want to have allergies so bad every year, I don't want to get colds and flu's like I have been lately and in the last few years. What else?
I want to fit into all my clothes instead of just some of them. I have a huge stack of jeans that I don't fit. If I were to guess I'd say I'm about 10lbs out of them. I'm not sure of that though.
I have all sorts of other goals but they're long term so I won't mention them. What's the point really of focusing on a bunch of crap that is so far off that I'll likely lose site of it all and end the entire process. Let's just say that in the end of all this I hope to be a cute white girl with a pretty smile and dread locks that is peaceful and happy and so hot that even people who don't like cute little peaceful hippies with dreadlocks think I'm cute and want to talk to me. I want to have the image that I have of myself be reflected in the image of myself I see in the mirror. I want to just be better that's all - BETTER.

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Ok. Now that we're out of the military what happens? Not a damn thing. We just eat and eat and eat. The drinking and the parties and fun continue on and on forever. Ahh this is the life. Let's see I went into the military 125lbs(1995), got out of boot camp 135lbs(2 months later), got out of the military 140lbs(1999), job after job after job after job to now we are at 228lbs(2007). I say we because I am now the size of two of my Sophomore in high school selves. So what the hell happened? That's what I wanna know. What happened to the wonder years and the wonder weight? I think it was Mcdonald's. That's who I'll blame. Not the fact that I drove myself there every day. I got out of the military and went to work for an avionics company. Me and all my work buddies went to the Chic-fil-A every day. My girlfriend and I at that time were going out to eat all the time. When we ate at home (rarely) it was turkey burgers and corn. After that girlfriend and I broke up (5 years later) I began going out and rebelling against the break-up and all women in general. This meant making bunches of new friends and going out to eat more and more. After that going to the club more and more. Sitting in a chair at the strip club watching someone else getting their cardio in while they straddled me naked. Ahh the life of denial and depression. Fun like manic but depressing when it's over. Any way my health after that was a down hill slide with an average of 12lbs per year. That is a pound per month. If I keep that up I will be 670lbs by the time I am 72 years old. That is one fat old lady.

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Ahh the fond memories of the Military. I won't tell you about all of them. What happens in the Military stays in the Military. Kinda like Vegas. What I will tell you is that the military is the place where I began to gain weight. The diet you are fed in the Navy is very much like the meat and potatoes diet of the Oklahoma farmer. In the Navy exercise is basically non existent. I suppose for someone who is a lazy wimp the Navy includes more exercise then they may be used to, but for the average person involved even a tiny bit with sports the exercise the Navy has you do is nearly un-noticeable. In boot camp for the Navy I don 't think we ever ran over a mile and a half at one time. I doubt I ran more than 25 to 30 miles in the entire two months in boot camp. I gained 10 pounds in boot camp. I hardly exercised at all the entire time I was in the military. I stayed in enough shape to pass the PT test. whoopidy dooo. I could run a mile in what 8 or 9 minutes? What normal person within 5 years of graduating high school can't? I know there are some people who haven't been exposed to much exercise at all, but that isn't who I'm talking about. Whatever who cares about them anyway? I had no problem running an 8 minute mile or even a 6 minute mile at that. I could have easily run an 8 minute mile as recently as 6 or 7 years ago. Now who knows? I think I could do it in 10 but I'm a fat ass so who knows how realistic that is. The military was a place where I had the most independence relating to my own exercise level. I was given the option of exercising when I wanted and how I wanted. This meant I did pretty much nothing. I was still rebelling against my father. I need to find a place where I have let him and all other authority figures attached to exercise go. I need to release them before they hold me down until I can no longer get up for myself. I'll keep you updated on how that goes.

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So college. I don't suppose things got any better at that time of my life. I went to college on a track/cross country scholarship. I was sooooo excited that I had been accepted and that I got the scholarship. I got there after rebelling against my father and his coaching for an entire summer. I was totally out of shape arriving and ended up being the worst one on the team at the beginning. Later in the season I was in great shape but to be honest my body type is not one which has positive results from the amount of exercise that I had to do. Regardless, the amount of exercise didn't serve to deter me from my love of running. As a matter of fact people used to comment all the time about me running everywhere on campus. I think the problem I have is with authority as opposed to exercise. As far as eating right goes I never have known how to do that. My father is a 300+ pound man who has been large all of my memorable life. I'm from Oklahoma. We are meat and potatoes people who are farmers. The problem is that if you are not actually taking an active roll in the farming activities then the meat and potatoes are stored as opposed to burned. So now we know. I am a lover of exercise who is burnt out due to the fact that exercise became not so fun any more. I am a lover of food who has continued to love food despite the fact that I have discontinued my love of exercise. Maybe the answer is for me to rekindle my affair with exercise but on my own this time. No authority figures included.

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I have not always been this way. I grew up normal. As a matter of fact I grew up skinny and some what toned. I am about 5'6" or 5'7". In high school I was 125lbs. That was 15 years ago. When I was little I used to watch my father (a high school sports coach) coach his boys track team. I used to wish I could be a part of the team. I could think of nothing more exciting than running a million miles in front of millions of cheering people in attempt to win an award. When I was 5 years old my dad let me run in a race that was sponsored by the local radio station in the area. I ran 4 miles and I came in very last place. I got escorted in by a police officer on a motorcycle and the entire crowd was cheering for me. After that I was hooked. I was so proud of myself for finishing the race without cheating like other kids my age who cut across at certain moments when they knew no one was watching. As if the people in charge of the race and watching the race didn't know they were cheating by the time they came in and how they came in ahead of adults in the race. Any way my excitement in finishing, getting the attention, receiving a radio station T-shirt had me hooked for life on running. Eventually the coach in my dad took him over and by the time I was in high school I had him driving behind me in his car on long runs out in the country so that I could keep in shape for the race. I would get so angry that his fat ass would be driving and yelling techniques out the window at me instead of running with me or letting the whole process be fun. After a few of those experiences I was un-hooked. I knew from that point forward that I would not be running unless I thought it was fun. Thus began my rebellious fight against authority and conformity and anything which wasn't fun. Basically, I went from a kid who loved running and had dreams of becoming an Olympic athlete to a kid who would sit around and do nothing just to get away from the dictator that was my coach. My dad was not a bad guy or a bad coach he just chose a tactic of break em down and build em back up as opposed to lets have fun with it and learn something. This simply was not the best tactic for me. It may have worked on others but on me it was paralyzing.

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In The Beginning

Ok. I have heard that the first step to fixing your problems is to admit that they exist. So here goes. I am a fat person. It is true. I suppose later I will explore how I ended up this way but for now I'll just say it. I'm fat. I am 32 years old. I currently weigh about 227 or 228lbs. I have been told by lots of people that I don't look like I weigh that much, but that doesn't mean that I don't look overweight, and it doesn't mean I'm not overweight either. I have to be honest with myself here. Just because God has blessed me with good proportions doesn't mean I'm not overweight. I am thankful though that I am not one of those people that looks like a tic after it has feasted on a dog for a good week, but while I'm comparing myself to bugs I have to admit I look a bit like a bee with a big ole butt and some curves. Fat is however not my only issue. I am in general bad health. My hair is more dry than it has ever been before the last 3 or 4 years, My skin is broken out, My breath is funky, My energy level is nearly non-existent, My wardrobe is suffering (I feel like "The Incredible Hulk" busting out of my clothes), Sex life I won't even go into, My feet smell like a feed lot where cattle are housed, My elbows feel like an alligator's back, I've been getting sick more often than ever in the last five or six years. The list goes on and on. That doesn't even include the other stuff. All the emotional crap and anger issues and waaa waaaa waaa. So here begins my journey to better myself. I want to be at whatever my best is within the next two years as far as my health is concerned. Wish me luck.

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