All muscle, or that stick of butter I ate? Thanks tons, Pam.

115.4  Shit.  The scale's going in the wrong direction.  I'd like to think that it's all muscle from 3 serious workouts in Ena's garage.  (Bring It!)  But I think it's more likely just the 17 cookies containing an entire stick of butter, which I made on Friday night and ate on Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and this morning -- there is only one, sad, lonely, and truly delicious butter-filled chocolate-chunk cookie left.

Pamela's gluten-free chocolate chunk cookies.  Yum.

Doggie daybreak.

So I'm lying in bed this morning trying to sleep late, but now, in addition to my a$$ and legs, my arms and shoulders are also sore, plus the dog won't stop barking, my arms and legs ITCH like crazy (thank you atopic dermatitis and allergy season), the hospital helicopter just buzzed the house and made all my 1929 windows rattle, and the ABBA songs from Mama Mia keep going through my head, because it was on HBO yesterday.  Sunday morning is NOT going like I'd planned it.

All I can say is, thank God we aren't tryin' to Bring It six days a week, because I can barely move from working out half that much.  But I'm up (almost -- I'm typing this in bed with the barky dog locked out of the room), and the rest of the day has to be better.

And did you notice I've got links to Amazon on my blog now?  Technology can be a beautiful thing.  And, P.S., bubble umbrellas now available at my local Target for $17.  Life is not bad.

My sore A$$ and silent Tony.

Whew!  Is my butt sore!  Ena was too ill to Bring It on Tuesday night (we had an evil plan to Bring It 3X/week, which is, of course, way less than the 6X/week prescribed by the program, but way more than we can handle), so we Brought It last night (Thursday).  And I only fell/flew out the door of Ena's garage twice while trying to do wall squats, before Ena shot the dead bolt for me.  Note that we tried a different "music and cues" option and found out that we CAN make Tony zip it.  No more yackity-yack from Tony while we're trying to Bring It (I'm makin' the universal sign for yacking with one hand and rolling my eyes appropriately, but you can't really put that into print) -- and the P90X officially gets a 5-star rating from this middle-aged pudgy lady!  Kudos for giving us the option.

So not only did we Bring It to our legs and backs (which made our glutes  sore - wtf?), but we felt so energized when we were done, that we did 20 minutes of Power Yoga with the Yee to relax.  Have I mentioned I love the Yee?  So we were FRICKIN' AWESOME for two nights in the last week.  I still have lots of back fat, and am tippin' the scales at 114.8 (see what I mean with the point 8?) tonight in my new Athleta Walking in the Woods skort.  (I am amused at my continued purchase of sports wear from Athleta, which I wear almost daily, as if I was a really active/athletic youngish woman.  My little joke on the world.  Ha.)  And we will be Bringing It again Saturday morning.

OOOOh.  Gotta go -- Jack is about to tell Tom "You can't HANLDE the truth!!!!!"  (Someone alert crazy Kelly B, so that she can see where the phrase actually originated -- Al Sharpton, Al Sharpton!!)

"YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT I DID!"

Go Jack.  One of his best roles.

"I'M GONNA RIP OFF YOUR HEAD AND PISS IN YOUR DEAD SKULL!"  Can I say that in my blog?  Too late. 

Somebody get the license plate...

...of the truck that hit me last night in my sleep.

Okay, Ena and I done Brung It big time last night.  It was a marathon session of P90X (Bring It!), followed by Zumba, then sitting our asses on the floor and finishing the pinot we started during Zumba instruction.  (Because the beauty of Zumba, is that it's pretty much like going out clubbing, and I totally drink when I club, so I figure I can drink when I Zumba -- it's the perfect marriage of my desires to drink and lose weight.  So until they develop a time machine to take me back to my 20s, when I could go out drinking and dancing until 6 am and I had no back fat, I think Zumba is the winner.  Plus we had just worked out, for real, for about an hour.  So technically, the Zumba was just gravy, and drinking + Zumba = better than drinking + couch + remote.)

So, anyway, there we were in Ena's garage/workshop/studio.  (Ena has a touch of OCD, so it's freakishly neat and tidy, right up to the kayak and canoe attached to the rafters.)  The Bring It prep took like an hour, because Ena set up water and the projector screen and I had to run home for the right tennies for this workout, and then there was adjusting the projector and the Pre-Bring It photo opp, where Ena and I had to make idiots of ourselves doing the P90X "Bring It!" X in front of the screen while being blinded by the projector.  (That actually took most of our prep time, but I think you will thank us when you see the results that I'm about to insert -- right after I finish cleaning the soap scum off the bathtub. Okay, done cleaning the tub -- will  have to start taking showers, because the soap scum in the bath tub is killing me.)  I'll update when Ena sends me her photos.

Back to the Bringin' It! photo shoot.

Here we have Ena.

Ena is ready to Bring It.

Bring It, Ena Bring It!

This is Tracy.

Tracy is also ready to Bring It, even though she's having a bad hair day and looks a little stiff.

Bring It, Tracy, Bring It!

So there we were -- all ready to Bring It.  After many weeks of TALKING about Bringing It.  We were finally ready.  The P90X materials told us to start with the chest and back work out, so we complied.  And my back fat had better watch out, because I'm one "Heavy Pants" rep away from being able to wear a bra without a muffin top on my back.

The work out was tough, but very doable -- Tony (our P90X inventor/instructor) gives you plenty of breaks in between sets of push-ups-that-I-can't-really-do-yet and pull-ups-for-which-I-didn't-buy-the-bar.  So there was plenty of time to drink the gallon of water that seems to be required to get through this work out.

Overall, I was very pleased with the workout.  I like that Tony has a mostly positive attitude -- you're supposed to say "I am currently challenged by...." instead of "I can't do" whatever.  I like that.  In fact, it came in really handy several times during our work out, because "I am currently challenged by" more than the first 20 push ups we did last night.  I am reminded of them today every time I move my shoulders.  So thanks for that, Tony.  My only complaint so far (other than how the hell did I skin my knee doing push ups on a yoga mat in my Athleta yoga pants?, which injury, BTW, gets me out of doing this workout for at least a week -- "I'm sorry, I have a knee injury that prevents me from doing push ups.") is that Tony WILL NOT shut up.  Where's crazy Kelly when I need to tell someone to "Zip it!"  I can't hang out all day in push up position waiting for Tony to shut up and start already.  At one point, I did a whole set of pull ups and then found out he hadn't even started yet, 'cuz he was still yacking.  Geez, Tony, we could have knocked this workout out in 45 minutes, instead of 55, if you'd just zip it.  So, overall rating?  I'd give it 4 stars, deducting one star for Tony's inability to shut up.  I guess I know why the DVD gives you the option of running it without listening to Tony.  So maybe I'll try that next time and give it 5 stars.

Which takes us to Zumba.  My Zumba "Total Body Transformation" (that's optimistic, yes?) package arrived very promptly -- got it on Friday after whatever day I ordered it mid-week, so that was speedy.  Oh, and I almost forgot -- Ena and I developed our own alternate P90X-crazed "Bring It" X, but it involves flying two birds while shouting "Bring THIS!"  Unfortunately, we didn't get the photo.  Maybe next time.

And speaking of photos, here's our last one -- the post-Bring It pinot.  Don't we look healthy?  And don't you love the halo created by the reflectorized fabric of my baseball cap?  I don't think anyone needs to seem me THAT badly at any time of day or night.  Kind of freaky.  Remind me not to wear it next time.

Back to Zumba, which is even fun to type.  What's not to love?  If my back fat hadn't already had enough, I really gave it something to whine about when we followed up Bringin' It with a whole 50 minutes of Zumba.  Okay.  Here's the deal with Zumba.  Everyone in the workout video is 20-something, crazy skinny, and gorgeous.  So if Zumba can do this for me, it's worth more than the 70 bucks it cost me to get 5 DVDs (more on the 5th DVD later) and a set of Zumba maracas.  Creator Beto Whoever is ripped and hot and kind of gives you a smoldering look with his congratulations at the end of each dance/workout segment.  That alone might be worth the price of admission.  But wait, there's more.  The first DVD has instructions on how to do the various steps, so in case you're over 25 and not a professional dancer, you can learn to do the steps and look LESS like an idiot.  They make it very easy.  Actually working it into the workout, is another question.  After that, since I didn't bring the remote for my projector, we couldn't play the 20 minute express workout on the big screen (the reason is too boring to explain in a blog), but while Ena was taking a phone call from Down Under, I put the sculting/toning Zumba workout up and we did that.  It really was fun.  And you really can drink while doing it, although you DEFINITELY didn't hear that here, and I don't recommend it, and you probably shouldn't drink and dance (or sing) anyway.

But my FAVORITE part of Zumba, was the live dance party DVD.  Finally, some middle aged white ladies with some back fat.  They still had the regular young/hot crew, but the middle-aged white ladies were definitely representin'.  Thank you ladies, I feel less old and fat and dorky.  Anyway, the dance party looked fun (I was too tired to do it after two hours of working out and a glass and a half of wine), and we still haven't even tried the cardio workout or the express workout.  So you get instruction, an express workout, a cardio and a sculpting workout, plus a 50-minute live dance party workout.  I think that's money well-spent.  Thank you Beto Whoever -- I am happy.  Oooh, plus they have cool ZumbaWear.  So not only is Zumba hip and fun, you actually get to wear hip and fun clothing (and even jewelry, thank you) while working out.  It's a Win-Win.

By the time we finished the sculpting Zumba (and I have no idea what time it actually was -- I didn't get home until midnight), I was wiped and we just sat on the floor in Ena's garage/workout/dance studio and polished off a bottle of the Irony pinot.  We likey the Irony.  I put in the 5th mystery Zumba DVD, which basically just said "Come join the party," because I had no idea what it was.  It turned out to be a 3-minute ad for Zumba that repeats endlessly.  It ran like 5 times before we realized that.  But who cares?   We were happy with the Irony.  I'll be dropping the 5th DVD into the recycling bin today.

Okay, I've got to get back to scrapbooking -- I'm currently in Pompeii and only Naples remains after that.  I am determined/required to finish scrapping the 2009 trip, before I go back to Europe in a few weeks.  Damn digital photos.

Now THAT'S some good TV. Al Sharpton!

All I can say is, it's best to turn on the close captioning before you watch the RHoNYC and Kelly B's major mess of crazy.  Cuz they all start talking and, trust me, you don't want to miss a syllable of this stuff -- it is PRICELESS!!  OMG.  I don't know what Whitney Kelly was smokin' or mainlining, but I don't want any!  Just Wow.  She complains about how "mean" other people are to her, and spends an entire vacation (on Ramona's dime, thank you) being a complete crazy bee-otch -- she attacks and insults pretty much everyone, and when she's not doing that, she's yelling over everyone and telling them to "Zip it."  Kelly continually insists on questioning Bethany's right to be called a "chef" (B did graduate from culinary school) and calls B a "Ho Bag," and then cries because she has nightmares that B is trying to kill her.  Huh?  Can you say "Nut Bag?"  I wonder why Kelly hasn't noticed that while she is telling Bethany to "get over" the death of her father, who was apparently a jackass that didn't love his own child, Kelly  is unable to "get over" some mysterious perceived criticism of her kids in the media, which she assumes came from Bethany, but Kelly doesn't actually have any proof of that, so K continually attacks Bethany and calls her names, while simultaneously complaining that everyone is picking on her.  Tonight she called Alex a vampire, told Ramona, Alex, and even her sole defender, Sonja, to "Zip it," and accused B of trying to kill her, "because she's tried to kill me so many times before."  All I can say is, some psycho needs to Zip It, and her name is spelled Kelly.

One last note about the Crazy that IS Kelly.  Her clueless comments are some of the most delicious moments.  Last week, she told the ladies that they needed to stop discussing issues with Jill, because they were "making lemonade out of lemons," because they were making things "bigger"  -- you know like you do when you make lemonade!  (She actually argued about the meaning of the expression when the ladies tried to explain it to her.  Priceless.)  This week she comes to breakfast with a notepad so "Instead of people talking about stuff, maybe they can write it down."  And when B does the "You can't HANDLE the truth!" line delivered by Jack Nicholson in a Few Good Men (as any idiot but K knows), K laughs and shouts "Al Sharpton!" not just once, but three times, and is apparently very pleased with herself for her keen observation!  Even better than K's complete idiocy, are the various looks of total puzzlement on every other face, while Kelly hoots "Al Sharpton!  Al Sharpton! Ha, ha, ha, ha!  Put your hair up, it's Al Sharpton!"  I still don't know where she got Al Sharpton out of that, but that's what makes it so hysterical.  And by that time, they'd all given up on trying to rein in the Crazy, so they didn't even bother to call her on it, or ask her WTF she was ranting about.  LOVE, love the Crazy. 

Don't know how I managed to get in 20 minutes of yoga --that was some good TV.  AL SHARPTON!  Ha, ha, ha, ha!  Al Sharpton!

Is it wrong to want a Bedazzler?

I hit a new low today.  I found myself seriously comparing the merits of the Bedazzler and GemMagic products on Amazon.  What's WRONG with me?  I could have been working out.  But NOOOOOOO, I'm looking at plastic toys for setting studs and tacking rhinestones all over my textiles.  I am happy to report that I didn't actually put anything in my cart (although my finger hovered over that "add to cart" button for JUUUUST a second).  What will power I have NOT to waste $15 on that crap.  (Although it would be kind of fun to just throw a few nail heads on some stuff....it could still happen.  The GemMagic gets better reviews.  FYI.  NOT that you're interested.) 

Will power decidedly absent this morning when I drove "thru" at MickeyD's.  My rule is, if I'm out and about and it will actually SAVE me time (like on ANY road trip), I can drive thru.  And, I had to check again, just to be sure, but my cheeseburger-fry standard "drive thru" meal is only 540 calories.  Now, I'm not sayin' that's great.  I would probably have consumed fewer calories if I'd eaten at home.  And I'm sure there was lots of fat and maybe even some transfat and other evil in there, like maybe some crazy radiated cow, or cow-like product, or something (see that Food, Inc. movie -- I know I was surprised at what they do to our hamburgers).  But I got the JOY of snarfin' down every last sub-atomic particle of those 540 calories and then licking the salt off my fingers.  Mmmm.  It doesn't get much tastier than some ground "beef," "cheese," and condiments on a bun, along with some taters deep fried in a bunch of fat.  I'll have V8 for dinner.  Or with dinner.  Or maybe I'll work out.  (ROTFL -- I crack myself up.)  But it's kind of possible.

P.S.  Maybe if I bedazzle my sweats with something like "JUICY," no one will notice my jiggly old ass?

Two words: Zumba.

So it turns out that I haven't tried EVERY workout video known to mankind.  There's still Zumba.  (And I really never did give the Cardio Ballroom a fair shot -- Ena and I tried it after LOTS of alcohol one night and only managed about 10 minutes worth.  And frankly, I don't remember whether it was good or bad, so I haven't REALLY done it yet.)  But you know I'm totally going to get the Zumba DVD before I ever try the stupid Cardio Ballroom thing again.  Plus I still haven't Brung It yet.  

But Ena's back from Down Under and we have big plans to use her garage to Bring It.  Unfortunately, I found out last night that Bringing It apparently requires us to repaint her frickin' garage.  I can't even remember why this morning, but it seems like it had something to do with the projection of the P90X video on her walls.   But then she remembered that she has a screen, so maybe I'll get out of painting. Anyway, as soon as my face swelling (another frickin' allergic reaction to God-only-knows-what that gave most of my face a 2nd degree burn with  blisters that turned to scabbing and massive swelling) goes down and I look less like a citizen of Mongolia (because it totally made my cheeks fat and red and squeezed my eyes half shut), I'm ready to Bring It.

But I put the Zumba dvd into my cart anyway.

115.6

Sigh.  Just FIVE pounds, Baby Jesus!  How hard can that be?  I've been good.  Kind of.  Mostly.  Shit, don't I get points for good intentions?  Don't make me ask Santa.

Well, thank God I didn't bother to re-set the stupid clock.

Because the power went out again this morning.  What up APS?  You trying to burn down the hood?  Or just preparing us for power loss every time a breeze comes through during mosoon season? 

Before today's black out I washed the car with the new brush.  SWEET.  It really does reach the middle of the sun roof!  And, although some of the burnt-on bird poopage was stubborn, it did a beautimous job on the basic dirt and dust all over my car.  My car looked so nice that I decided to buff out the smears I got on it by ramming into my own plant urns in the driveway.  ("Here she comes, here comes Speed Racer....")  And then I was gonna touch up the paint chips, but my ten-year old touch up auto paint was dead.  So then I had to spend like two hours tracking down more touch up paint (plus primer and clear coat, natch) and some plastic paint for the driver's door control area that's all scratched up....And 50 bucks later, I'm waiting for more sh!t to store and another project that won't get done for weeks, months, or years, depending.  Hopefully I'll hop right on this one, because I'm enjoying the new car cleaning toys -- still waiting for the new sponge, squeegees, no rinse wash, grit guard, and the replacement Mr. Clean Auto Dry system, since mine frickin' soaked me today (oh, plus I need a new hose).  So maybe I'll still be playin with the car washing stuff when the paint arrives and it will all get done.

The weight loss has been quite a struggle this week.  I've still got skin issues that make me not want to work out.  That and I'd rather watch the Crazy B!tches with a glass of champagne.  Plus I didn't totally rid myself of the bad food this week -- I had chips and dip for dinner one night.  Probably not good.  And lots of frozen yogurt (I found a really large tub of fat free, so duh).  And there was some other bad stuff in there somewhere.  My new plan is to have a glass of V8 every time I want to snack.  That's worked great for like 6 hours so far, so I figure I'm set for life with my new V8 diet.  Okay, I'ma go weigh in...115.6.  So V8 it is.  I'll be going to Safeway for like ten gallons for the weekend.  Enjoy yours.

Twenty-five bucks worth of nostalgia.

My bubble umbrella arrived today.  (In a GIANT box with my car washing brush that attaches to the hose, so that I can wash my car myself, like once a year, after I've forgotten what a pain in the a$$ it is to wash my car and I'm certain that no one does as good a job cleaning my car as I can.)  Oh, you thought I was playin'?  Nope, I bought it.  And I have to say -- the thrill is NOT gone.  Am lovin' the bubble.  Can't wait until it rains in the desert again and I, hopefully, remember that I have the bubble.  Of course, I also ordered a mini-umbrella with B&W scenes of Paris on it, so it's going to be a tough call in terms of which one to use.  Theoretically, the mini is to throw in my purse to avoid heat stroke when it's 120 F this summer, but I might be too afraid of looking like a jackass to use it as a parasol.  Of course, the older I get, the more willing-to-look-like-a-jackass I become -- the reason all parents embarrass their children, I must assume.  So we'll see.  But I'll definitely be testing the car washing brush -- no more bird poop on my chest from trying to reach the middle of the sun roof with a sponge and my dinky arms.  Happy Days ahead.

Meanwhile, I remain motivationally-challenged and slightly itchy while holding steady at about 116.  I'm working on more exercise (did some lunges and stuff while watching an Agatha Christie/Miss Marple movie this morning and a walk with Mary B last night -- thanks as ALWAYS to Mary B for the motivation) and less bad food (I finished the chocolate cake and ate the last scone today, so I'm clear for the rest of the week until Sunday -- nothing but gluten-free pasta with my own healthy veggie sauce and maybe some egg fried rice with veggies, plus it's getting hot again, so I'm sure some G or B smoothies are in my future).  Sh!t.  Just noticed that my ipod boom box clock, that I just got set for the first time in like a YEAR last week, is now flashing because the power went out for ten seconds this morning.  It's always something.  And it's NEVER my fault.  That's my story.  Anyway, while a social life and weight loss continue to elude my grasp, I have a cool new umbrella and will be driving a not-so-completely-filthy car soon.  Gotta go set the stupid clock.

Time for a makeover? Spa Day? Or maybe just a big smack down. Who's with me?

I feel like I'm underdone -- not enough makeup, not enough hair, not enough, you know....everything, except fat cells.


But that's because I've been watching the Crazy Bitches of OC, NYC, and NJ lately.  That, and one more episode of Jerseylicious and I'm going for hair extensions, liposuction, lip injections, fake lashes and some Botox.  Seriously, what is UP with all the fake beauty?  I'm feeling ugly just being me even on a good hair day.

Obviously having a "fat" week, plus allergies, but will try to do an hour workout this afternoon, and that should make me feel righteous again.  Temporarily.

Okay, didn't actually work out for an hour -- only 20 minutes of yoga.  And then I had a big piece of chocolate cake.  Oops.

Itchy, scratchy and depressed.

Grrrrrr.  Am so depressed.  116.  And itchy.  W. T. H.  It just doesn't seem fair that I can't lose the weight AND I'm frickin' itching all day and night.  It's hard to work up to a work out when you can't stop scratching your arms and legs and you can't walk outside, because that might will make you itch even more.  Did I mention grrrrrr?

Have been doing about 20 mins of yoga a day, plus a little extra strength training.  And I've been mostly good with the diet.  (I did have a chocolate bar this week.)  But I'm not losing anything.  Sigh.  Maybe it's hormonal, but I'm just depresed.

Post Script -- okay will admit to two bags of Cheetos this week.  Non-weight-loss mystery solved.