Wednesday, May 26, 2010

I have no idea

I found this on the poorly dressed website. I have no idea what is going on here. Back boobs? Back fat? Massive wedgie?
Okay, you're fat.That's fine. But wear clothes that fit! 

If you are reading this ANYWHERE but on, it's stolen; please let me know. wholelottarosieyoung at yahoo dot com. Thank you.

Monday, May 24, 2010

body dysphoria quiz

If anyone is interested in taking a really quick quiz on body dysphoria (if you think your body looks different than it does), please email me--or post a comment and have your contact information enabled on Blogger--and I will send you the quiz and the email address to send the reply.

If you are reading this ANYWHERE but on, it's stolen; please let me know. wholelottarosieyoung at yahoo dot com. Thank you.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Obese corpse removed with forklift right here in Connecticut

What motivates me to lose weight and work out? The fear of someone having to take down a wall of my house to get my hideously fat dead stinking corpse out of my (probably collapsed) bed.
It's beyond fear. It's a real terror. And I am heartbroken whenever it happens to someone else. Like this local guy. Not that I live in Bridgeport, but Connecticut is so tiny it's all local.
Alexandros Martakis, 35, died Tuesday of natural causes. The fire chief estimated his weight as "close to half a ton," while others put it at roughly 800 pounds. (Which, in my book, is "close to half a ton"). Although I suspect he probably weighed more like 600 lbs. These stories tend to grossly exaggerate the size for shock value. His landlord claimed Martakis had gained 300 lbs since he moved in. How does he know that? It's doubtful the guy ever left--if he could/did, his corpse woulda fit out the door and not through a hole in the wall, right?
But this is what makes me angry and makes me cry. He died Tuesday (I don't know what time). They didn't take him out until Wednesday--that's how long it took to find the equipment and do the job. And to add to the insult, no funeral home wanted him because he was too large.
His poor mother stood there in the rain and watched her son's body being taken out this way. And his 10 year old son was with him when he died. How do you ever get over something like that?
From the article:
(A)n interior wall in Martakis' second-floor apartment had to be removed, as did part of an exterior wall, surrounding the second-floor window.....When workers were ready to remove the corpse, they moved it onto a platform positioned on top of the pay loader. The body, which was covered in a blue blanket, was then lowered to the street.
And it doesn't say how it went to the funeral home, but I doubt it was in a standard ambulance or hearse. So sad.

(image source=article source)

If you are reading this ANYWHERE but on, it's stolen; please let me know. wholelottarosieyoung at yahoo dot com. Thank you.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

back boobs??

I've posted about the phenomena of back boobs before. In fact it got me kicked off blogging at Spark People.
I was just perusing the Poorly Dressed site (which is like People of Walmart, but these people are everywhere), and what I should see, but this:

I am a little bit baffled by it.  Is this a case of back boobs? Or does this person have an extra butt up by her ribcage?  and whether it is boob or butt, why wear such a top (or lack thereof) to SHOWCASE it?
Her arms look like mine. The only time my arms are on public display is when I am working out in the pool.  If someone at the pool wants to say something about my fat floppy arms, I will say, "I AM WORKING ON IT!  Do you not SEE ME WORKING OUT!?"  I am not wandering around in public with all my various floppy fat bits on display.

If you are reading this ANYWHERE but on, it's stolen; please let me know. wholelottarosieyoung at yahoo dot com. Thank you.

Monday, May 10, 2010

this hurts

I'm unemployed again. I worked for about 2 months. I'm not that sad--I went into it knowing it was only for a few weeks.  And frankly one woman there was really freaking annoying and I won't miss her.  The extra money, yeah, of course I'll miss that.
So in lieu of working all day every day I am going to work out. Not all day every day--that's Biggest Loser campus stuff--but way more than I was.  While I was working I could only get to the pool 3 hours a week.  That partially accounts for my lack of weight loss when I went to Yale a few weeks ago.  I was doing 4 days a week for 80-90 minutes a day (5-6 hours a week) when I wasn't working.
Because I refuse to take no fro an answer, even from my body, here is my new schedule.
Monday, Wednesday and Friday I am going to do 75-80 minutes in the pool immediately followed by Couch to 5K training.  This consists of alternating walking and running for about 20 minutes, 3x a week, for 8 weeks, and by the end supposedly you can run a 5K (a little over 3 miles) in half an hour.
(clears throat)
Well, that's the PLAN.  The REALITY is that I am still in the hugely morbidly obese category at nearly 300 lbs and running is hard.  Running HURTS.   My boobs, oh, terrible things happen to my boobs, even in a sports bra.  And my poor knee.  I imagine I might be able to finish the 8 weeks of training by around September.
But wait, there's MORE exercise in the plan.  Order NOW and you'll get two, two extra sessions of exercise!  That's right, 5 days for the price of 3!  On Saturdays and Sunday I am going to walk at least 2 miles.  Both days.  So 4 miles per weekend.
You didn't think I was going to wimp out with only 3 days of exercise a week? No, I'm going for five.
So, Saturday I got up at the ass crack of dawn and by 9 a.m. I was at a local hiking trail with my friend.   It took us 44 minutes to stagger 1 mile in and 1 mile back.
The next morning, yesterday, I was up at the frozen ass crack of dawn.  The ass crack of dawn had icicles hanging from it, and a frigid wind blowing from it.  And I was at the damn trail again, trying to get my fat ass into gear and run.. Hahahaha.  I can laugh at myself, right?

*As an aside, let's talk about my sports bra. I was damp from the pool and trying to roll this thing over my head and under my boobs. (If you have boobs and a sports bra, you get it. If you don't, imagine sticking 2 watermelons into a tube sock. Sideways.) It kept balling up into a tight piece of slightly damp spandex, crushing my ribcage, smashing my boobs. I could NOT get it to flatten out. I was ready to ask someone in the locker room to pull the back down for me and smooth it out but finally I got it to snap into place, giving me that lovely enormous uni-boob that's so undeniably attractive.
Like I wasn't physically punished enough, I was up again at the ass crack of dawn (the ass crack and I are getting to be special friends) today.  I did 65 minutes in the pool, put on my sports bra* (and some other clothes, don't want to scare the children) and headed for that damn trail and my hell-spawned friend who hasn't got the sense to say "hey Rosie you are pretty damn fat, maybe you should take a day off."
No, friend, I don't take the day off. In fact when we got to the end of the paved hiking trail I said, "Let's go down this side trail and see where it goes."  Well it goes on FOREVER that's where it goes so we turned around and headed out and by the end I was staggering like a drunk.  I came home and took a cold shower and I've been running all sorts of mentholated peppermint foot gels and lotions and sprays on my poor blistered feet.
But do I stay home and rest the remainder of the day?  Since I've already done 125 minutes of exercise and I'm whimpering in pain? No, I go grocery shopping.  I meet a friend for dinner.  Then I go wander in Wal-mart.  I must HATE my feet.   That is the only explanation.
Tomorrow, however, is a PLANNED day off.  That means I am going shopping, apparently, with some friends (who are also unemployed and/or retired).  No rest for the weary!

If you are reading this ANYWHERE but on, it's stolen; please let me know. wholelottarosieyoung at yahoo dot com. Thank you.