If you’re going to fall on your ass, rock the Mariah Carey way - call out your assistants and keep beltin’ out the notes. She didn’t even bat an eyelash. The media may call her a Diva…. well…. Diva Do, girlfriend! DIVA DO!!!! I bow to you. Right now, I’m bowing…. crap.. I can’t get up…. where are my assistants and backup dancers? Oh that’s right, I don’t have any.  I’ll just wait for the UPS guy, he’s very helpful.

Look and learn, GYNA Gals. She makes falling look better than Jennifer Lopez’s eye makeup and I didn’t think that was possible. We all tumble, we just need to exercise Mariah’s art of rally!

GYNA GALS!! Remember my little contest? Well, after purchasing an economy size package of Depend and wetting myself, I was able to narrow down the Three Winners! It was hard – you gals out there have slap-ass funny stories. I was just laughing, wetting my pants and slapping my ass simultaneously for an entire month. My boyfriend thought I had Turrets.

The three lovely ladies won a copy of  author Stephanie Dolgoff’s, “My Formerly Hot Life” which reached #32 on the The New York Times Best Seller List! Congrats, ladies! Embarrassment and bounce-back WELL DONE!

The next three days, I will feature each winner’s story! Our first story is from Leiah in Lake Charles, LA, a little lady that went from 26 to 92 in a mark of a pen thanks to our responsible voter registration system. ENJOY!

I recently wrote a blog post regarding not being very thrilled about getting yet another piece of mail that should be delivered to a person of more advanced age than mine. The day after receiving yet another letter asking me if I was aware of the potential changes to my Medicare benefits I remembered where this all began.

My nephew Christopher was in kindergarten when his baby sister was born. My sister-in-law asked if I would take her place at the Tiger Cub Mom & Me camp-out and, of course, I agreed. I picked him up early that Saturday morning and we headed north to the Boy Scout campgrounds. It was mid-October in Texas so temperatures in the high 70s were not out of the norm. We pitched our tent, hiked, did whatever crazy badge stuff he needed to do, finally ending the evening with a campfire and then heading to bed…as much as a sleeping bag on the hard ground can be considered a bed.

Have you ever heard what they say about weather in Texas? If you don’t like it, wait a minute it will change. It did. When we woke up the next morning it was in the 40′s. The 40′s!! I had no cold weather stuff with me. No jacket. Nada. I was in a T-shirt and jeans. And miserable. Thank the Good Lord above we only had to stay there until after breakfast and a SHORT pack, den…some kind of wild animal group meeting, then we were free to go. Oh, I forgot…there was no hot water there at the camp. Only cold, frigid, liquid icicles dripping from a shower head that had about 7 openings…not that I know that for a fact because I refused to stand under what had to be the original idea behind the waterboarding technique. We packed up and headed home as quickly as we could so that I could warm up and finally take a shower.

I brought Christopher home and then headed to my parents house. I came in, dropped off my bags and headed straight to the shower. An extremely nice, long, hot shower. When I got out, my mom told me I had gotten a phone call while in the shower…and then started laughing. Here is the telephone conversation as my mom told me:

Mom: Hello?
Caller: Is Leiah there?
Mom: She’s unavailable right now – can I take a message?
Caller: Oh no, she’s not sick or anything is she? Is she doing OK; will she be available later?
Mom: If you must know, she’s in the shower. She just got back from taking her nephew camping.
Caller: Oh. {crickets}……This is the Jefferson County Democratic Party. We were calling all our senior citizens to see if they needed a ride to the polls next week.
Mom: Senior citizens?
Caller: Yes ma’am.
Mom: I think you’ve got the wrong person. She’s only 26
Caller: Really? We have her birth date as 10/22/00…she’s not 92? Well, I’m sorry to bother you. Enjoy your day and don’t forget to vote!

92?!?!? Yep, they forgot to enter the year I was born when they printed the new Voter Registration cards that year. Can you imagine the thoughts going through that person’s head when they heard that the old lady they thought was 92 had taken her nephew camping?

Ever since then I’ve gotten AARP information, Medicare junk mail, scooter information and any kind of ‘old people’ junk mail showing up in my mailbox. I guess by the time I finally do partake in these services, there’ll be some crazy math going on.

Over and over again my, “You’re Not Alone,” theory is proven!!  I’m a genius I tell you, sheer genius!! You may have an embarrassing moment, but someone out there is eating a gallon of ice cream with their eyes closed because of a kindred pain. I eat a gallon of ice cream simply because I know someone is feeling pain over embarrassment and I want to be supportive. So…. my cottage cheese ass is all your faults… but, apology accepted… I’m just a good person.

Most of us, feel embarrassment from an encumbering moment almost immediately…. we find ourselves running to the computer, going to THIS website, searching through the archives for a similar incident to laugh and find instant solace. OKAY – I made up the last part, but I’m trying to brainwash you to come to this website everytime you’re embarrassed!! 

However, some of us have a delayed reaction by, let’s say, I don’t know…. 5 to 10 years…. but the rest of the world sees it and winces for the victim of denial.

CASE IN POINT: the different varieties of  “The Real Housewives.”  For some reason, a few of them believe being featured on reality TV magically gives them the ability to sing and dance. I have no doubt, well….. I do have doubt, but I also have hope…. that one day in the future they will look back, see these videos,  then lock themselves in a closet for a week.  WHEN this day happens… they can rest assured… Reality Star That Made an Ass of Yourself, YOU ARE NOT ALONE!! You have each other!! I propose a reunion where you get together, burn your singles and hug it out while sipping champagne because you’re born-again classy.  Please refer to the below Exhibits for evidence…

Exhibit A: Kim Zolciak from “Real Housewives of Atlanta”

 

Exhibit B: Countess LuAnn from “Real Housewives of New York”

Exhibit C: Danielle Staub “Real Housewives of New Jersey”

I live in a five story building in Chicago. It takes about a good six minutes to get from the shut of my car door to the shut of my apartment door. It’s often that I leave work and decide to wait for the restroom at home. By the time I actually get to my restroom, I’m crawling and praying to make it to the toilet. It’s quite dramatic actually. You would think I got shot down in the middle of gang battle, dragging my wounded limps to safety and crawling as fast as possible out of dangers way.  It’s like a clip from “Good Fellas,” except my escape vehicle is the toilet. Nope. I just forget I’m an adult sometimes and hold it so freakin long that the pee pee dance can’t sustain my bladder! It’s cute when you’re little, but when you’re over the age of 11, holding yourself and gyrating to the bathroom… it’s a little weird… inappropriate… disturbing really.

When I received the email below, I sympathized with Lisa (and suddenly had to use the restroom.) In a bladder crisis, getting to the actual toilet is the focus, shutting the bathroom door is frivolous.  Here’s Lisa’s story:

I’m not going to lie and say this hasn’t happened before. How many times do we do something inappropriate and don’t learn our lesson until we’re caught? I was at a client’s office enduring a very long meeting. After the first 30 minutes, I had to use the restroom. An hour and half later, once the meeting closed, I was scared out of my mind that if I stood up, my bladder would lose control and run down my leg. I was in pain. We said our good byes. I carefully, without breathing, exited the conference room and asked for the ladies room which felt like a mile away. Once I got to the restroom, I was throwing my things on the floor and unbuckling my belt before the door closed behind me. Oh, and I forgot to mention that this was a public bathroom shared by the east end of the office floor. I ran to the stall, peeled everything off and finally was able to breathe.

Seconds later, I heard the bathroom door shut and footsteps walk toward my stall. Not to be graphic, but no one likes to sit on public toilets these days, so in my suspended position over the seat, I was looking down the entire time. I heard someone yell, “OH, EXCUSE ME!” I looked up to meet eye to eye with my client while in mid-stream. In my frenzy to reach the stall, I forgot to close the door after me. I was embarrassed and extremely uncomfortable. One minute I’m going over court papers and the next minute I’m staring her in the eyes with my pants down. My pants were zipped, hands washed and I was bolting toward the elevators before she could get out of her stall. It gives a whole new meaning to being caught with your pants down.

Hello LOSERS – yeah, I’m talkin’ to all you ladies. You are losers! WEIGHT LOSERS! Okay, that was the lamest thing I’ve ever said. I was channeling “The Office’s” Michael Scott when I said that. Someone smack me with a yoga mat – I think it will help.

I’m in a extra good mood today because I FINALLY freakin’ got to 145! I’m half-way to my goal. Another 15lbs to go and I’ll be walking around the City of Chicago in my underwear. I’m serious. If I hit the weight I haven’t seen in 12 years (130 lbs) , I will buy a pair of naughty knickers and strut those bad boys around the city singing, “Let’s Get Physical.” Wait.. I will then look like a prostitute.. I didn’t think this through. If there are any volunteers for bailing me out of jail at that time, please let me know and I’ll give you an emergency ATM card.

Here’s the breakdown for last week:

Lauren – Week 14 – 2lbs – total weight lost – 15 lbs – 145 lbs

Erica -  Week 14 – 1lb – total weight lost – 10 lbs

So here’s my goal movingforward: Stay steady. For the last 6 weeks, I’ve been flippingback and forth between dedication and fudge wrestling with my fridge. The friends in my life that have stayed fit workout five days a week and automatically pick healthy choices no matter restaurant or home. It’s just habit and a way of life for them. I actually looked-up how long it takes to form a habit. I’ve always heard 21 days, but then I did a little google-ing. Check out this article. Here’s the author’s consensus on forming habits:

It’s instant.
Breaking an old habit or starting a new one is “done” as soon as you make a true commitment to yourself that it’s what you’re going to do.

http://www.howtofeelhappier.com/blog/2009/01/how-long-does-it-take-to-break-a-habit/

High freakin’ five. I completely agree with that. If I make a decision to snorkel in macaroni and cheese, by goodness, chains and an 18-wheeler couldn’t keep me away.  Also, it kills me that I always make time for TV shows or drinks with friends, but somehow, I just can’t find the time to workout or go to the grocery store. Excuses, excuses! I’m making the decision to be consistent, to get my butt to the gym 5 days a week and make time for it. I just gotta do it. I don’t want to take another 14 weeks to get to my goal weight when I can get there in 7 weeks!!

Karin & Melissa – you guys are doing great. Let us know how last week went.

So… let’s join hands, ladies… everyone gather in a circle.. repeat after me: I… state your name… promise to BITCH SLAP grease, cheese and other artery clogging delicacies and make the gym my new lover at least 5 times a week. I will not make excuses any longer nor will I secretly cyber-stalk Heidi Klum and photo-shop Carly Wilson’s body on hers in an effort to make myself feel better (if I do it – I know everyone does…right?)

WOOHOO!!