Big Fat Slob

Yeah, you read that right...I'm a big fat slob. I hate myself sometimes for letting myself get this way. Why do we let ourselves go after we get married and have kids? Do we feel like we just don't matter anymore, or is there something else to it? Maybe there is something deeper involved that I just don't know about, but I've been letting myself go for the last 7 years now, and it's got me to the point where I'm nothing more than a big fat slob.*

* - Okay, I'll admit that I could be in much worse shape. Seeing shows on tv like "The Biggest Loser" make me feel a little better about myself, but it's still no excuse for me to be this big fat slob version of my former self.

Well dammit, I'm tired of being a big fat slob. I'm tired of being ashamed of how I look and feel now as opposed to 7 years ago. It's time for a change. It's time for the dreaded D word. It's time to actually stick to my guns, get off my lazy ass, and do what I've gotta do to lose weight. I'm sick of being unhealthy.

So, I'm going on a diet. Not the kind of diet where I don't eat anything at all, or some fad diet that everyone else is doing because Oprah, or Dr. Oz, or Dr. Phil, or any other whacko who has a tv show says to do; but the kind of diet that I can deal with and lose weight at the same time. I'm making some sacrifices (like chocolate, and ice cream...oh how I'm gonna miss ice cream), and cutting back on things that I consume too much of (soda and beer, for example).

Not only am I cutting back on the things that I eat/drink too much of, but I'm replacing them with things that I don't eat nearly enough. I'm taking my own advice that I usually give to the other big fat slobs I see every day, and I'm going to mix in a salad or two. (I'm curious as to how long I can do this, because as a general rule I hate salads. I've never understood the point of eating lettuce like I were a baby rabbit or something.)

I'm sure I'll have plenty to gripe about now that I'm doing this. (Of course, having something to gripe about and actually taking the time to gripe about it are two totally different things, just so you know.) Stay tuned for updates as this diet progresses. If I do happen to lose weight, I'll be sure to post pictures of myself to piss you off/make you jealous/make you want me/whatever the case might be. Or, maybe I won't.

You'll just have to tune in to find out.

Look ma, I got a tattoo!

Let me start by saying I apologize for the eternal space between blog posts, but I have been very busy and just haven't had the time to sit down and write anything. (I know, I know -- I should make time. I'm going to try really hard to, I promise.)

Anyway, like the title of this post says: I got my first tattoo yesterday, which is something that I never thought I would do. My brother came to visit me because he wanted to see about getting a tattoo for himself, and since he was going to be getting one I figured that now was as good of a time as any to get over my fear of needles* and get one for myself.

* - When I say that I'm afraid of needles, I mean that I am terrified of needles. I'm so afraid of needles that I won't even donate blood, so I never thought that I would have the balls to actually let someone draw on me with a needle.

However, I've gotta say that it didn't bother me at all once I sat down in the chair, and I barely even noticed that the tattoo artist was even drawing on me. She made a comment that she was "almost done" with my tattoo, and I was surprised that she was that far along, as I didn't even realize that she had been drawing on me as long as she had.

The worst part about the ordeal is the fact that it's starting to itch now, and I can't scratch it. I hope this doesn't drive me bat-shit crazy, because I don't want to be tempted too much to scratch it for fear that I could screw it up.

It feels good to know that I've defeated one of my long-time fears, and strangely enough I already want to get another one. Funny how that kind of stuff works out sometimes, isn't it?

By the way, in case you missed my Facebook post, here's a picture of my tattoo:

Reading vertically: Nicolas (left), and Natalie (right), the names of my two children.

I know it's not much, but it's my first one. I figured it would be best to go with something simple to start with, you know, just in case I ever got second thoughts and wanted to have it removed. (Thankfully I really like it, because I'd hate to have a permanent tattoo that I didn't like.)

Three weeks ago, I would have called you crazy if you told me I'd have a tattoo. Now, I can't believe I've waited this long to get my first one, and I can't wait to get another.

Funny how that kind of stuff works out sometimes, isn't it?