I Should Have Brought Immodium...

I'm on a family vacation right now with Pearl and Boyfriend and Boyfriend's sister and her family. I was happily enjoying the Disneyland park when all of a sudden my stomach hit the switches and said "OH HELLS NO. You will NOT be having a good time on MY watch." Things went from 0 to 60 in record time and now here I am, laid out in the hotel room while the rest of the group enjoys all the amenities Walt Disney has to offer.

While laying here I decided to look through the camera and pretend I'm not in diarrhea agony, daydream I'm actually back at the park, check out the shots I got. That's when I noticed something that I thought was worth sharing.

Kids have great skin.

I mean, really great, fucking perfect-looking porcelain skin.

In EVERY single shot of Pearl and her cousin, they're both rosy and cherub-cheeked, bright-eyed, happy and natural looking in front of the camera, clear complected, energetic and full of life... I could go on forever.

And the pictures of me? There's a 50/50 chance that I'll look like some kind of Rosie O'Donnell/ Steven Cojocaru/ Crypt Keeper/ grizzly bear hybrid.

My eyelids are all heavy and bloodshot and look like I haven't slept in 3 years. And the dark circles underneath look like I've been hidden away like Flowers in the Attic. My cheeks are puffy and saggy like fucking Droopy Dog on crack. My teeth are turning 28 shades of "shit" and I have no idea why because I don't smoke OR drink coffee, and Yes, I do brush my teeth on a regular basis. My hair looks like I'm wearing a sorry fucking 1994 Selena wig. I could go on, but I can tell I'm about 5 minutes away from another bathroom visit so I better cut it short.

I'm not telling you all this to get sympathetic "Aw, you look great!".

I'm telling you this so you'll be aware. And join me in cursing that bitch, Mother Nature.

Happy Monday.

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I'm Going to End Up Eating Kibble When No One's Looking.

I'm sure everyone* (*no one) has been majorly concerned about my whereabouts lately and wondering why my posts have been so few and far between.

So I'm here to tell you all* (*mom) not to worry, everything is going great. And by "great", I mean "fat". And before you embarrass yourself and ask if I'm pregnant, let me say No, I am not pregnant. So when you see me out at happy hour, don't be worried that I'm damaging my unborn baby. There's no baby. It's just waffles.

Now that we've gotten that out of the way.

I have something to share with you today. It's something that I'm pretty fucking excited about, but I realize that you probably won't give a shit about it. That's totally fine. Based on my analytics, I've come to accept the fact that our friendship "honeymoon" may have come to an end.

Alright, so the big topic of discussion is... my diet.

My diet is shit and I'm gaining weight and I'm not looking good.



With that said, I'm taking a stand against my chins and butts, y'all.

And I'm inviting YOU to stand against my chins and butts with me. (I know what I said.)

I created an account on DailyBurn to track everything I eat. With every item I track, my counter updates and lets me know how many calories, grams of fat, grams of protein, and grams of carbs I have left in the day in order to stay within my "lose weight" range.

If you're interested in making a DailyBurn account to track your food, let me know and we can be buddies! We can totally keep each other motivated AND get ideas from each other for healthy meals. And don't worry- nobody can see your private details (weight). And if we become buddies and it turns out you actually CAN see my weight details, you better fucking pretend like you never saw that shit.
Disclaimer: If you're one of those super competitive people and you have no problem going all anorexic and shit, we can't be friends.

And to get the ball rolling on this bitch, I'm even going to share my digits for today:

See that exclamation point in the "Fat" category? That means I did an OUTSTANDING job at overeating fat today. Also- it looks like someone needs to drink more water.

So... Who's in???

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The One Where I Complain About Being Old.

Before you flip the fuck out and slap me across the face for pretending like I'm old, allow me to explain myself.

I've never thought as the "30's" as old. Never. And when it comes to fashion and humor and maturity (see: Immaturity) level, I definitely think I'm far from being old.

But lately, my shit's been saying otherwise. And by my shit, I mean my body. Not my actual shit.


When I turned 30, my friend Melody said something along the lines of "Good luck. Your body totally changes like the second you turn 30. It happened to me." I thought she was bluffing her balls off and I didn't bat an eyelash at it. And here I am, 31, and now I KNOW WHAT SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT.

-At 30, my mystery stomach problems kicked into high gear leaving me in such severe pain that I ended up in the ER. A year later, it was diagnosed as endometriosis. It was such a relief to finally get a fucking answer about what my problem was... but that feeling of relief was quickly followed by the realization that I might not be able to have kids. And that pretty much sucked.

My future.

-I started getting melasma spots on my face that now make me look like I have a permanent Hitler stache. And if you don't know what melasma spots are, they're those unfortunate looking dark spots that some women get on their face that make them look like they've been playing in dirt ditches and shit. Needless to say, I don't think I'll be winning America's Next Top Model this season.

My future.

-My metabolism slowed waaaaay the fuck down and I'm getting rounder by the second. I know what you're saying- "TILTE, maybe it's because you eat all kinds of fatty shit and you're the laziest person I know." Well, to that I say "I KNOW. QUIT BEING AN ASSHOLE ALREADY." The thing that gets me about gaining weight is that I've always eaten like this and I've never had a problem staying thin. But now, it's like all the cranks and shafts and pulleys and levers inside my body have rusted over and come to a complete deep-fried halt. Even just getting dressed in the morning makes me FUCKING IRATE because it's like WWIII trying to break into a pair of freshly laundered jeans. And when I'm sitting at my desk and lean over to get something, my belly rolls are fighting their way to make it past each other. And as much as I hate to admit this, I've even worn loose fitting yoga type pants OUTSIDE of the house. -Which is fine for some people. But I'm just not one of those people. And to make matters worse, almost all of my friends have kids and they're still in just as great shape as always. And don't even get me started on the ones who've had kids and look BETTER.THAN.EVER. (I'm talking to you, Rachel C.) I'm not even pregnant and I'm already letting myself go. :::suicide:::

My future.

-My back always hurts. I've turned into one of those crazy old bats who always carries around a heating pack and downs Motrin like it's heroin-laced Skittles. I know my endometriosis plays a big part in my chronic back pains. It's tiresome and frustrating to know I get achy just after a normal day of sitting/ standing. Again, I know what you're going to say- "TILTE, if you just do some exercises and stretches it won't be so bad" to which I say "I KNOW. QUIT TELLING ME WHAT TO DO ASSHOLE." And I know you're totally right. But I have zero motivation to do something unless someone else is there telling me to do it. -And doing it with me. -And then taking me out to froyo afterwards to celebrate.

My future.

-I'm going gray. But I'm not like one of those freekazoids who actually lets their hair grow out gray. I dye those sonavabitches every few weeks. Because if I didn't, I would literally develop trichotillomania and pluck myself bald. Gray hairs are disgusting assholes and I hate them.

My future.

-The other night I had an Old Fashioned and a Peach Iced Tea Martini... and the next morning I woke up with a hangover. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ABOUT?!? When I lived in London, I used to get TANKED on Vodka/ Redbulls. Sure I'd wake up with a hangover, but that would be after like 6 drinks. -You know, when it was totally warranted. Now, I have to match my cocktail/ water ratio, pig the fuck out to soak it up, and take an Ibuprofin before I go to bed just to make sure I can function the next day. Ugh. It's embarrassing, really.

My future.

-My friend Dar (who's a dentist) once told me that a person's saliva changes as they get older. Mostly starting when they turn 30. Apparently, your spit gets thicker, you get more dry-mouth and consequently, you get more build-up. When he told me that, I thought he was full of shit. But, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm pretty sure he was right. And you know how I know? Because my teeth feel fuzzy by the end of the day. And I'm blaming that shit on my old-person spit and it's lack of cleaning abilities.

My future.

-I hear motorcycles or cars with loud exhausts rev their engines as they drive down the street and I literally want to shit in my hand and throw it out my window at them.

My future.

I hope I didn't bum any of you about-to-be-30'ers out, but it's about time we face the facts here. Getting old sucks.

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