Weight Watching

As Charles Barkley says "I joined Weight Watchers. That's right I said it."

Since I been a member twice before, it's really not that radical a thing for me to do. But it was at the top of my list of things to do when I got to California. Losing weight is only one reason to join WW. Equally as appealing is the social interaction with the other members, who are mostly women of course. I's say the ratio of women to men approaches twenty to one. Not bad odds . . . and that's just the half of it. The other men who join are -- how can I say this -- not much competition. Not because I am as big a lady killer as I think I am; but because they have either joined with their wife or they are unattractively obese. Hmm, does that me you can be attractively obese? I think that's a topic for a whole different blog.

Back in Michigan I found that my weight was depressing the hell out of me. Not only was I at my maximum density, but I was developing a revolting beer gut like 99 million other middle aged men. With the failing state of my body from the illnesses, living with a disgustingly ugly gut was just one physical insult too many. There's no denying that I'm vain. And of course, the illnesses also make dieting difficult because it lowers your blood pressure. An added benefit for most everyone, but not for me.

I've told all my family and friends how hard I work at looking and acting healthy even though I'm not. Any small thing I can do to counteract the degeneration that's going on inside me to make me look better on the outside is a big boost psychologically . . . and a little present to myself for fighting the good fight. Thus the weight loss.

My plan was to slowly and consistently lose about a pound a week for six months and then level off and stay there for good. I figured this might work for two reasons: it would be gradual enough to prevent lowering my blood pressure and it would allow me to permanently change my lifestyle with respect to food. In my previous tenures with WW I lost thirty pounds each time in about ten weeks. I was hungry ALL THE TIME but I can be so obsessive about achieving goals that I forced myself to lose the weight. When I got to target, I said "Thank God, I can eat again." and that was that.

I joined five weeks ago and I've lost 8.4 lbs. A little faster then I wanted to, but it feels really good. I don't feel like a stuffed pig and my digestive system has felt pretty good. The only way I can make it work is by going to weekly meetings. The meetings seem completely different than those in the past. First there's the group leader. Wow! Smart, energetic, great looking, fit, realistic, savvy, generous and enthusiastic. . . Imagine this -- somehow I find it easy to pay attention to a stunning woman. Who would've guessed! Since I'm paying attention, I'm really giving this WW thing some thought. I think it's really sinking in that it's about changing your lifestyle -- it's not a diet. As Kris (not her real name) says, it's like a wedding and a marriage. Losing the weight and reaching goal is getting through the wedding. Being married for the rest of your life is maintaining your goal weight. That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out. I know I can reach goal. Can I change permanently and stay there is the issue.

I don't know much about Alcoholics Anonymous but it seems that the concept of attending meetings for support and encouragement is the same with WW. Particularly for me, the new guy in town who doesn't really have any local friends yet. I really look forward to Tuesday mornings. . . and tracking the foods I eat on my iPhone fits my obsessive behavior to reach my goal. BTW, my goal is to lose 24.5 pounds.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Goodbye Michigan, Hello Sunshine

Six months ago when I last wrote a blog, I had made up my mind to move to California and reap the benefits of its magnificent weather. Now it's six months later and I did it. I actually did it! Frankly I think when I wrote that last blog I didn't really believe it would happen. I certainly had no idea the level of effort it would take to pull it off. I am very proud of myself for making it happen.

California is truly a strange and wonderful place. As many times as I have been here on business and holiday, I still had no sense of what it like to live here. Even when I am feeling depressed and angry because I'm alone, I still want to stay here. Of course the weather is amazing, but it goes well beyond that. First, the people are nice and generally happy. Probably because they live in such a pleasant place. Second, there is so much to do. Again, the weather makes being outdoors so appealing that life is built around it. And lastly, the people are so attractive. I swear in the first ten days I was here I saw 3 fat people -- three! In Michigan you can see that many in 10 seconds. If ever there was a place where I could have every possibility of meeting a woman that I could be with, I believe this is it. The attitude is so relaxed.

That doesn't mean it's that easy to make friends when you're my age and brand new -- and exude the standoffishness that I do. Sometimes I forget how often I was told that I give off an air of arrogance. Which is funny when you get to know me. Yes, I used to be an arrogant little prick but I'm all grown up now and I don't mind saying I'm really a nice guy. So my prediction in the previous blog that making friends would be the hardest part of the move has proven to be true. I have been doing -- and will continue to do -- all the right things: join Weight Watchers, sign up for yoga class, and join a social group. Still it is hard to find someone I can get comfortable with. All the old reasons why I have been somewhat of a loner are still there. All I can do is work to change them.

I can't say that I've had any real fun misadventures here so far -- nothing that entertaining enough to write about, so I'll go back to my last month in Michigan. I used to eat dinner at the bar at Friday's in Michigan four or five nights a week. It's one of those places where everybody knows your name -- in my case, they definitely did and treated me very well. But in all the hundreds of meals I have eaten there, I don't think I have ever had more than one or two women strike up a conversation with me. So I was taken aback one Thursday night when a very young girl started talking to me the moment I sat down. Despite her youth and my lack of recent practice, I immediately slipped into charming mode. You know; lowered my voice and tried to be mysterious. After a couple of minutes she got around to mentioning that she was born in Orange County California. Actually not that surprising since I had just said that I was moving to the O.C. in a few weeks. Next thing I know she has moved over next to me and I noticed she was drunk. She mentioned that she was 23 and started telling me about her mom. As always, I'm in a daze and asking myself why a 23 year old is hitting on a grandpa. Even though she was drunk, she occasionally said some pretty honest sensible things about age, people and relationships. Well she continued to tell me that her mom was 55 and beautiful -- repeatedly. Eventually she asked if I would like to do something like go to a casino with her and her mom. I said sure, why not. She was with her cousin and the two of them went off to the girls' room. I waited awhile then left.

The next day I asked myself if I wanted to sit home that night or go out with the mother and drunken daughter. I said "what the hell" and texted them to meet me at a restaurant at 8:00. The restaurant was jammed so I got a table. When they showed up I immediately chuckled to myself. As I could have guessed, the mother was not attractive at all. As the evening wore on I realized her personality was less attractive than her appearance. I mean, I know bitter and this woman was bitter. She talked about some crazy-assed books she had read that nothing to do with anything we were talking about. The climax of the evening was when I returned from the restroom and figured out that both the mother and the daughter had gotten into separate confrontations with management of the restaurant over issues that were very vague. As in they made no sense to me. As we left the daughter made us exchange phone numbers and hug each other. The mother was stalling so much to keep from leaving that it took her 15 minutes to write down her number. Neither of them bothered to say thank you for dinner. I was glad to leave and assumed I would never see them again.

Flash forward to the night before I moved. My neighbor was helping me pack and I suggested that we take a break and have something to eat at Friday's. We sat at the bar and in about one minute I hear "Hello, Jim." It's the daughter - -and yes, she's drunk again. Three times I've seen her; three times she been drunk. She immediately mentioned that I never called her mother. I brushed that off and turned to my neighbor and told her that this was "the daughter." My neighbor is a woman, of course, and I had told her abou the prior encounter. After a bit more gibberish, daughter walks up next to me and says "You should have slept with my mom." What! My neighbor and I look at each other in amazement. Daughter proceeds to tell us that her mom was a Playboy Playmate in 1989 and the you can look it up. Again were smirked at each other. After shaking my hand for about 3 minutes the daughter left. All my neighbor could say was how sorry she felt for this crazy messed up little girl who seemed to be pimping her mom for a new dad.

Boy, I can really attract them can't I?

More to come. Thanks for reading.