Here we are! Happy BLUE JASMINE 2014!
|Tina Fey, Amy Poehler LOVE|
I have conquered the dieting problem.
1. I don't eat until noon (except black organic coffee) so my blood sugar is not spiked so I am not hungry.
2. Then organic veggies/protein twice then fruit or whole grain bread cheat before bed.
3. If I view fruit and whole grain bread as a cheat and food as not pleasure but fuel - this works.
4. The final element is to drive to a gym far away where the classes make you feel like you are on drugs. The women say things like "KILLER" as they slow squat you (after 35,000 pre squats) with a barbell on your back. (I'm looking at you Les Mills with lust in my eyes for inventing that class.) The music is so loud you feel you are a young virgin in Studio 54's hey-day at 3am and the danger of an orgasmic orgy with he's and she's and no negative consequences lurks in every corner.
The "Cardio Party" class girl is so happy and sexy and gorgeous and moves her derriere in ways I don't think I've ever seen or imagined before... and I know I can accomplish any form of dance within a few weeks so I know I am going to dance like a WHORE alone in my kitchen by the end of 2014!
It's going to be brilliant and the shades will be drawn and none of my Republican friends in their tennies and martini blah-blah, HIGH WASP khaki's will be the wiser. It's my dirty little secret that I am uber healthy AND I feel sexy and I'm doing nothing wrong and can attend all their uber-boat parties and pretend to be boring too and pretend that I adore spreading my legs while upside down in fancy group yoga class (ewwwwwwwwww) in my LuLuLemon (which I DO truly adore) while sipping a water with olives and pretending it's a shaken-not-stirred something! Insert evil laugh here.
It's OK, I've been accused of being a "HEALTH FREAK" before (and not just by my children)... it gets easier the more I make my peace with it. Stop, you know you love me. Where is Tina Fey to write this better? The phones won't stop ringing in my Gold Scroll Room (that's what I call this room) and it's killing my writing buzz.
RIGHT AFTER I SAT ALMOST FRONT ROW AT THE GRAMMY'S this happened!
Now that you all love me or have clicked on... I have a confession.
I AM WRITING THIS WHILE ON DRUGS.
Yes, that is correct. This writing is going to get serious now so move on non-serious readers. I said good day sir! There will be no pictures of my breasts because internet security and obscurity is a farce and this is all going to catch up to me someday and I'm a private person who can't shut the hell up for some reason... some days I feel like Lewis Black. Oh, the drugs are pain meds people, calm down.
It is 2 weeks after my PROPHYLACTIC BREAST REMOVAL w SILICON RECONSTRUCTION. I am very, very, very high risk and one of my aunt's died from just the chemo. The most important thing to know about me is I take great pride in my mommy skills. I may have embellished in a few of my past posts for drama or maybe that I was pursuing a reality show (yes, I know how stupid that sounds) but I put my entire main purpose of being, my number one goal on my top ten list is to turn out good, accomplished, citizens with good taste, good manners, and that ace their studies so that they can be the best at what they do. I rewrite my top ten goal list annually in January and those sweet babies are always #1 and it's always the most detailed goal w sub headings and outline form tabs etc etc... POINT BEING: I am not dying on my children the way my mother died for no reason on me. No one messes w my children's lives unless it's something they can learn from to kick even more a*s at their jobs. That's right cancer I am looking you in the eyes and talking to you. If the 30 Rock I have watched on Netflix while recovering has taught me anything it's that the angry, mean mom's live the longest - so I'm pointing all my anger at cancer.
I'm tired now and I'm freaked out by what I have to type to tell you how it's going to go if you decide to do this. I've been flipping into grande dame mode to cope with this recovery and not being a superhero. I feel like I'm 80 and I'm in pain and I can't move my arms until today. I'm taking pain killers to type this. I'm compensating by wearing pearls and red lipstick 24/7 to cope... like that says to the world "Bit*h, I got this!"
They recommend you buy a front zip sports bra for after (which I did) but I've found more success with this bra. It's a "nylon ruched bra" and costs nothing at Forever 21 or Amazon.com and the greatest gift is I don't have to look at my Bride of Frankenstein breasts until they heal if I just have one on 24/7.
|Best Bra For Prophylactic Removal Recovery|
WEEK 1: pain (yuck and my stomach does not tolerate NSAIDS so I'm not taking them) drains are in (no biggie, just pin it to the bra and empty twice a day) and record in your book that you record your meds in.
WEEK 1.5: more mobility in arms (up to shoulder level) - I'm still sleeping on the chaise and I THANK GOD for the Evolution station on IHeart.com that earbuds in a heart beat like sound that drowns out the pain all day and all night. My husband writes the meds and times on a plastic cup right next the bed for the 2am crazy pain. We record it all in the book. It reminds me of such a book we made when the children were born and we recorded when they diaper changed/ate/nursed/etc - there's something so reassuring about having a plan and doing something well and in an organized fashion.
WEEK 1.7: Took myself off all pain meds and said to self, "HA! 6 weeks to heal from this? I'm doing it in 3! I'm invincible! I also may have to drive my kids to school in a few days because the friends have been leaned on too hard in my opinion (I sent Thank You baskets/texts/handwritten cards but still.) so I need to know what that feels like."
WEEK 2: Pain meds before bed only, the pain SUCKS and it's been 3 days of being a tough girl. That's enough now. Heal like a person. Mini-goal, am able to tolerate Netflix instead of just deafening dance music 24/7.
WEEK 2.1: Pain meds at night, Tylenol only in day, still exhausted, starting to not to only want to eat pizza and chocolate and comfort foods. The veggies are back. Apples taste good again. I'm getting a grip. It still sucks. I still probably can't drive for more than one ten minute session as needed with two hands.
The lift no more than 5 lbs for 6 weeks post surgery rule is in effect still. My children and husband are the most perfect people in the entire world and I am so so so so so grateful for them.
THEN THERE'S THE IDEA OF BECOMING ACCUSTOMED TO HAVING SILICON IN ME!
I am vain, I'm not that vain, and I NEVER would EVER want to be one of those girls w fake breasts. My idea of perfect breasts are
1. The ones I had (except for the decolletage area changes from nursing)
2. A skinny ballerina disco girls
3. Grace Adler's
4. One of the Olson Twin's - y'know a skeletal figure woman who grows older and only wears Chanel.
A Blue Jasmine Cate Blanchett type.
|Ralph Lauren Grey Beaded Dress Fall 2014|
Post Script: Madame Buttons you need more gigs. I want to hear more of that airy voice. #JustCloseYourEyes
http://pinkaliciousintentions.blogspot.com - out (drops microphone loudly on the floor, smiles seductively, and exits stage left) #TurnDownForWhat