Wheetsin

Cripes guys, I lost my own thread. Just now found it again. Outdoor/indoor - depends on the time of the year and the weather. I don't know when I'm heading out yet, it depends on whether or not I take a class this fall (which determines when I graduate, etc.) I need to get crackin', but even when I'm not in class I still have to pause at some point every night and ask myself what I've forgotten to do, what assignment I've missed, because it's just not natural to have this much spare time... I'll actually be coming twice, most likely about 4 or 5 months apart. I assume the best time for the meeting would be before the start of my final semester (tho I haven't gotten back in touch with my advisor yet), and then again at the end of whatever semester is last, if I graduate, to walk. I never walked with my undergrad degrees and tho I personally never regretted it, I know it bothered my loved ones. I'll have to put on a show for them this time.

Mmm... cooked on the grill until the skins are black and crackly with mustard & lots of onion. Or my childhood favorite - a little ghetto, but I still liked it... sliced up in scrambled eggs.

This is one of those jokes where you tell it and people either laugh or stab you in the face. I laughed hysterically for about 20 minutes, but since you can't stab me in the face, here we go... A little kid loved clowns, but since he lived so far out in the country he never had the chance to go to see them, so he just tried to surround himself by clowns as best as he could: clown sheets, posters, costumes, figuringes - anything clowns, because he loved them so much. Then, one day, he saw a flyer - a circus was coming to town! That meant he could see clowns in person! So he worked, and worked, and worked all summer long to save up enough money to buy a ticket to the circus, and he finally earned enough money just as the circus was coming to town. He bought his ticket and felt like he was going to explode if he didn't get to see the clowns soon. Everynight he marked another day off of his clown calendar, until finally - it was the day of the circus! The little boy was so excited that he got there several hours before the circus opened so he could get the best seat and finally see the clowns. As soon as they opened the gates he rushed into the tent and grabbed the first seat in the very middle of the ring. The tent slowly filled, and the little boy could hardly contain his excitement. Oh, look at the lions... yeah yeah, he wanted the clowns. Oh, the elphants, yeah yeah... then - finally - the lights dimmed and a little tiny car came driving into the middle of the ring and 15 clowns jumped out. The boy stood up and applauded until the people behind him told him to sit down. One of the clowns took out a large scroll and began to read it to the audience: "Welcome, ladies and gentleman. We have a special treat for one very special person in the audience tonight. We've put all of your ticket stubs into this bowl, and we'll draw one lucky name to be our special guest!" The clown motioned for another clown to draw a ticket stub from the bowl, and the little boy could hardly stand it. He closed his eyes and just kept repeating, over and over, "please let it be me, please let it be me..." The clown finally called a ticket stub and - YES! It was the little boy's ticket number! The little boy ran as fast as he could into the middle of the ring. He was so terribly excited to not only see the clowns, but now be their special guest of honor. He looked up at the clown with the wonderment that only a child looking at his hero can have, and the clown said, "Well everyone, here's the horse's ass -- where's the head?" as he pointed at the little boy. The crowd erupted in laughter, pointing at the little boy, laughing at him, and even throwing their popcorn at him. He was crushed. All he could do was stand there, watching the clowns & everyone in the audience laughing at him, and start to cry... That night he threw away his clown sheets, ripped up his clown posters, smashed all of his clown figurines, and swore that NEVER EVER AGAIN would he be the butt of a joke again. He spent the rest of the summer at the library, reading all kinds of comeback and insult jokes, and eventually he got so good at comebacks that the town started to call him "The Comeback Kid." They would feature him at local plays, and sometimes in the bars - and would hold contests to see who could out-insult the Comeback Kid, no one ever could. He came back with the best insult ever each and every time. A few years later he was walking down the road and happened to look up and saw a flyer - the circus was coming back in town. He yanked the fluer down and looked at it, while I plan began to brew in the back of his mind... All night long he concocted his plan: he was going to the circus, and he was going to get those clowns back! He bought his ticket and waited, and waited, and waited, and finally it was the day of the circus. He didn't ahve to get there early to be first in line this time though, the entire town know he was going, and they all waited and let him have his pick of the seat. They knew what was going to happen, and couldn't wait to see the Comeback Kid get the best of the clowns. So the circus started, and the lions came out, and the elephants, and the trapeeze flyers, and finally - finally - the lights dimmed and the little car full of clowns came driving out. The head clown pulled out his scroll, and read, "We have a special treat for someone in the audience tonight." They read the ticket stub number, and the Comeback Kid stood up and said, "That's me!" It really wasn't him, but the town knew he had to redeem himself, so they had all agreed ahead of time that whomever's ticket was drawn would stay quiet so the Comeback Kid could go up. The Kid went up and stood there with a slight smirk on his face. He waited for the clown to go through his little speech, and when the clown said, "Here's the horse's ass, where's the head?", instead of laughing and pointing, the audience fell to complete silence... and instead of crying the Comeback Kid just stood there, a light smirk on his face, nodding ever so slightly. The Kid looked around at the audience, poised on the edge of their seats waiting to her what the kid had to say. Finally the Kid looked back at the clown, took a step toward him and said, "Oh yeah clown? Well fuck you."

Pre-band I drank 180+ ounces per day. A lot of that was because I was a "chugger" and could down a 36 oz glass w/o thinking twice (or stopping!). Now I drink about 80 oz. That's just plain old ice Water. I do drink more fluids overall though. Every morning when I get to work I brew either a cup of Citron tea w/ a cinnamon stick, or plain old lipton decaf that I ice down. I still have a Protein drink most days, not because I need it for the protein levels but because I enjoy them and they're not hurting me. I make them with fat free Carb Countdown milk, which is the closest to "milk" I've had to drink since I was about 14 and swore the stuff off. Also most nights I enjoy a cup or two of low carb apple juice (6g per 8 oz) on ice... depending on what my carb count is for the day. Since most of my protein preferences are at 0 gm and I try to stay right at 20 per day, I use the juice to help get my count up. Occasionally I will have a few drinks of crystal light, but that's few and far between - kinda lost my taste for it post-op.

I'd have to go back to my blog to be sure, but I think I lost about 40 lbs between surgery & my first fill 5 weeks later.

Just out of curiosity, did he charge you for the re-banding?

IME, during the pre-op consultations, I was told, "Never expect to feel restriction until you start getting fills." I was lucky and had some restriction from the band itself. "Eating more than I should be" - according to whom? Is that something your surgeon is telling you? I've had 2 fills and still eat more than 2 oz, so no worries.

How do they feel? Like a needle going in. I opt for NO numbing, and my port is centered just below my breastbone. How do you feel after? Just like I did before. How is it done? Palpatate until the port is found, drop the needle into the port, push the saline in, pull the needle out. Are you sick or in pain like right after surgery? Nope. (See previous answer to "how do you feel after?") What is your diet after your fill? Liquid for days? Mushies? Mushies for the duration of the day, normal eating the next.

I could watch him jumping around in those jeans for another hour or two... Mmm mmm mm mmmm.

I love his books! You're one of only like three other people who have ever heard of his works. Have you read any of his others in the same genre? Wicked, Son of a Witch, Mirror Mirror, etc. are all equally great! Ok, Mirror Mirror was a little slower, but still interesting. :confused: Most of my reading right now is for my summer session. So for class right now it's "Life Types", and for leisure I'm alternating between my 50-somethingth reading of "The Brothers Karamazov" and "Velocity" (picked it up out of bored desperation at the airport during a LONG delay).

A good thread for showing how individual we are, and how completely different our rules, experiences, challenges and truths on this journey really are.

My report - I tried this last time I PBed (on a baked chip ) and it didn't do squat. For one I couldn't do it. I don't know what y'all feel when your stuck or ready to PB, but there's no way I can take a deep breath. I truly and honestly tried, but I just can't get a big breath, let alone hold it. No way, no how. For two, the mini versions of this I managed did nothing. Chip had to come back up. I've had a minor stick since then (more my own version of 1st bite syndrome than true stick), and this didn't do squat for me. For those of who it worked for - lucky you. By the way, you suck.

309 yesterday, 312 today. I worked outside in the yard all day yesterday and again today, and drank I don't know how many hundreds of ounces of Water, so I'm not weighing again until my body has time to catch up, figure out how much of this water it really needs, and drop the rest. We are kicking booty, gals! (and the occasional guy) As soon as my scale is back to under 310 I think I'm going to make the drive out to my surgeon's and see what his scale registers, since that's the closest I have to a true number... but it's only partially true because it doesn't account for gain between consultation and surgery date (I WISH they weighed us on surgery day!) Pfunkem - did he take before pics of you? Some said he did, others say he didn't... of course, we've all had to sign about 12 consent forms either way. (BTW, every time I see your username I get "Cool Joe" or "Flashlight" stuck in my head for at least 2 days).

I inherited my great grandmother's(from Greece) recipe book full of her tried-and-true recipes. One of the recipes is Watermelon Pie. I questioned it, until I tried it - it really was good, but one of those things you have to taste before you believe you'd like it. I've also seen versions of it online, such as: 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour 4 cups mashed watermelon, seeds removed 1/2 cup honey 1/2 cup white sugar 1/2 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/2 cup sesame seeds Place the flour in a dry skillet over medium heat. Cook for a few minutes, stirring occasionally, until golden. Set aside to cool. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). In a large bowl, stir together the watermelon, flour, honey, sugar, salt and cinnamon. Grease a 9 or 10 inch pie plate, and sprinkle half of the sesame seeds over the bottom. Pour the watermelon filling over the seeds, the filling should be about 1 inch thick. Sprinkle the remaining sesame seeds over the top. Bake for 40 to 50 minutes in the preheated oven, or until a knife inserted near the center comes out clean. Allow to cool completely before slicing. Refrigerate leftovers.

Where DH grew up (Sweden) they take their shoes off. He still does it, even at my parents' house. I usually ask the person if they have a preference (including my boss, who is from Canada - and she always says "only if you want to.") I have mixed thoughts. I never want people trailing dirt in, esp since our entryway is slate and it's a PITA to clean... but on the OTHER hand, we've had people take their shoes off & had to ask them to put them back on because they had some FUNKY odors.

If hubby had his druthers I wouldn't work. He doesn't mind at all that I do, but being a SAHW would be his first choice if it was only his choice to make. As much as he's not an old-fashioned guy, he is in that regard. By not working I'm allowing him to be the bread-winner, he doesn't have to worry about domestic duties because I'd take care of them during the day, etc. When we first got married I didn't work, about 7 years ago. It was great at first because we had a small apartment that was easy to keep clean, and I could painit/photograph/draw/whatever I wanted during the day. But it also sucked! We have no children yet, so it was just me... and there was only so much work to do... and I wanted a real career. Not some whatever job, but a career. Hubby makes enough to cover all of our expenses and then some, so technically I don't need to work, but there's no way I'd quit. I love what I do, and I'm good at it & enjoy seeing the successes and learning from the challenges. Plus now I make more than hubby does, so that gives us more tan 50% of our gross pay as discretionary income, which equals absolute financial freedom. It was a lot easier for him to say, "Have you thought about quitting?" when he made more... We never have to save, the money is always there. We have no financial worries at all, we don't use credit cards, if we want to take a vacation, we go. We've also been pouring into our retirement funds, and we've put back a year's worth of income in a liquid savings fund -- what I call my "just in case" fund. To me just that freedom & not ever having "money" be something we worry about is worth it, let alone what I get from the actual work itself. It's never been about holding me back, though. Even when I didn't work I still went to college (pursuing a second bachelor's - I never even use the first one!) He fully accepts that I'm not quitting any time soon, and supports that decision - but also makes sure that I know that if I ever feel like quitting is the right decision, he'll back me. The trade-off is that we do plan to have a child some day, and it will be hard not to raise that child myself. But on the flipside, my company allows full-time telecommuting, so you never know.

Not saying anything, although a blow to your pride, was the best thing you could have done. I can guarantee they were looking for some sign that they had hurt you. By denying them that, you give them no reason to continue. Had you said something it most likely when you would have received round 2. Try seeing it from a slightly different perspective. Realize - that's all the better those people are. How lacking in character and integrity - and how sad, really.

How crazy is this - I'm just nerdy enough to look it up on the dictionary and both pronunciations are right. I wonder if it's a north/south thing.

How crazy is this - I'm just nerdy enough to look it up on the dictionary and both pronunciations are right. I wonder if it's a north/south thing.

I can't stand marshmallows - raw, cooked or otherwise. And I'm not big on chocolate unless it's paired with Peanut Butter. Probably no surprise I've never had a smore. :cake: If you put a peep in the microwave, you'll get like a six foot peep.

I can't stand marshmallows - raw, cooked or otherwise. And I'm not big on chocolate unless it's paired with peanut butter. Probably no surprise I've never had a smore. If you put a peep in the microwave, you'll get like a six foot peep.

It's said like coo-men. So the real question is, if DH ever tells you he's "coo men" - wtf do you do?

It's said like coo-men. So the real question is, if DH ever tells you he's "coo men" - wtf do you do?