The Inmates Run the Asylum

Last February I developed a new fitness routine based on the Body Block shown on Fit TV. I'd do the Monday dances, the Tuesday kickboxing/sculpt/pilates, and the Thursday Bollywood dance. On Wednesdays I'd do my own belly dancing routine and on Fridays, I'd do my own yoga routine. Despite the fact that my pants are still too tight, I liked the routine and felt like it worked for me.

I should have known that my nice routine would be short lived.

Because Oprah took over Discovery Health to form her own network, a bunch of Discovery Health programming got shifted to Fit TV and my Body Block is no more. Now they show it at 5 in the morning and that's it. Apparently, Oprah was misinformed and in fact, not everyone in the US owns one of them there fancy DVRs.

So now I'm doing my best to keep my routine by doing a lot of the routines from memory and upping the intensity when I can.

What makes this sting worse is that this problem was caused by a woman that is all about weight-loss and fitness.

In lucky news, I won another free ticket on my scratch offs. This brings my winning ticket total to six. I'm a little worried, though, because up until now I've been getting two tickets. I hope getting just one won't mess up the lucky winning mojo.

Of course, if I win the Mega Millions tonight, I won't worry about it.

This is stupid.

Basically, Santa Clara County wants to ban toys with fast food kids' meals because they contribute to childhood obesity.

From the article:

"This ordinance does not attack toys. Obviously, toys, in and of themselves, do not make children obese," said county Supervisor Ken Yeager, who pushed for the ban. "But it is unfair to parents and children to use toys to capture the tastes of children when they are young to get them hooked on eating high-sugar, high-fat foods early in life."

Now, I am not a parent, but I was once a child (and in many respects still am) and since my kidhood was sometime ago, I'm guessing the little heathens today are capable of making their own earnings and purchases, because when I was a kid, Mommy and Daddy were the ones buying me my Happy Meals.

I've never been one for tact, so I'm just going to put this one out here for you guys and spell it out plain and simple: Your children are fat because you make them fat.

I'm going to repeat that.

YOUR CHILDREN ARE FAT BECAUSE YOU MAKE THEM FAT.

That's right, parents. I'm calling you out. Because if you're not warping and dysfunctioning their relationship with food by putting them on diets when they're nine and making snippy comments about how they're getting a little belly and making really nasty, scathing remarks about the fat lady getting ice cream at Baskin Robbins, wondering if that second scoop is for her extra chin, which is why YOUR child will never have ice cream because you don't want YOUR kid getting so fat, then you're on the other end of the spectrum, feeding your kids nothing but hot dogs and macaroni and cheese because "that's all they'll eat", fixing them a separate meal because "they won't eat that", and filling them up with fast food because "it's easier than fighting with them".

And unless your precious little angels are in some kind of sport or physical activity like dance, I doubt they're getting much exercise outside of gym class, huh? Because you can't let your kids outside to play because of all the predators in the world and for crying out loud, you're too tired to go out and supervise them and frankly, you just don't have the TIME.

So instead, you plop them down in front of the TV and the computer and the gaming console so they'll be out of your hair and you can do whatever it is that you need or want to do instead, maybe, finding a way to include them in the activity, or, hey, even putting it off so you can go outside and play with your kid.

So, yeah, parents...this one's all on you. Before you go running off to blame the school lunches and the fast food industry, why don't you pay attention to what those little mini-me's you just had to have are putting in their mouths, and how much, and how much they move their growing little bodies.

You set your house right first. Then you can take away their toys.

I started a new workout routine today. As much as I like doing yoga and belly dance (and I'm hoping I can work them back in at some point), it's just not cutting it anymore, not since I managed to, after I quit smoking, gain back so much of the weight I lost. I felt the need to amp it up.

So now I'm doing half of this Body Block thing they've got running on Fit TV in the mornings. I'm sticking to the shows with dance workouts or more cardio focused routines. I've watched most of the shows and some of them are nothing more than fat people torture.

I did my first workout this morning, Hip Hop Cardio. From one half hour, I learned three important lessons:

-Oh, yeah, I can feel the weight I put back on big time.
-It didn't kill me nearly as badly as I thought it would, but it's just the first day. Check back at the end of the week.
-I'm too white for hip hop dance moves to come naturally to me.

I'm really hoping that this will be the jumpstart I need to get some of the weight back off and get back into a fit state of mind.

I need my body to match my ego again.

Carrie tried to get me cheesecake ice cream yesterday and failed (Cold Stone was out!).

Tonight, she brought home strawberry cheesecake ice cream. I think I've discussed how much I enjoy this flavor of ice cream.

Unfortunately, I had to call her a pretty, pretty princess to get some.

It was worth it.

In continuing with my unintelligent ramblings about TV shows...( NCIS comments...short, sweet, and lacking parrots )

Carrie and I had a conversation earlier today and she said I needed to put out a guide because my requirments confused her. So here ya go.

This all came about because in the new TV Guide they said something about a character on some show preferring to be called "traditionally built" over "fat".

Carrie liked it; I don't.

I prefer to be called fat. You can skate on calling me curvy or voluptious if I'm working for that (ie wearing my sexy clothes...of which I own very few) and I'll let you slide on squishy 'cause I'm amused by that word, but, really, just call me fat. That's what I am and I'm okay with that.

Don't call me chubby or plump or chunky or husky or overweight or obese or zaftig or rubenesque (I know what it means, but it makes me think of sandwiches) or tubby or fluffy or cuddly or a "real woman" or big boned or full figured or plus sized or more to love or any of that. Keep your soft language to yourself.

I'm fat. F-A-T. FAT. It's not a bad thing. It's my thing.

I suggest you deal.

I'll discuss the proper use of the word in another post. Remind me. I'll forget.

I have discovered an interesting complication in being a fat girl belly dancing.

I have improved dramatically in the last year of my part time belly dancing for fitness routine. Believe me. And I can feel that my body is improving as well. I have more strength to be graceful and I can smile through a whole routine without obviously panting.

But I weigh 210 pounds. I got me some rolls here, kids. Which means that while I can do certain isolations (undulations, belly rolls, pelvic ripples, Maya hips, Egyptian figure eights), I can't SEE them. I can FEEL them, but the rolls obscure most of the movement and they end up looking...not impressive. It irks me just a tad.

On the other hand, I was built to shimmy. I shimmy and everything from the neck down ripples. It's awesome.

I put the "belly" in "belly dance".

I put the ass, boobs, thighs, and arms in it, too. Heh.

I've not done any exercise since Wednesday.

No stretching, no weights, no yoga, no belly dancing, no situps.

I'm going to die tomorrow, aren't I?