So, this morning is the big reveal….I stepped on the scale.  Good grief….

Here’s the inner diaglogue: Well, congrats, lard arse, you’ve really outdone yourself this Winter.  You are now about 15 pounds shy of 200.  What will you do for an encore? Explode?  Sigh….this is why I hate Winter.  I hibernate and when Spring rolls around (mmmm…..spring rools…erhm hum…no!) do I.

I realized after looking at those numbers that I think I have officially hit rock bottom.  I started this blog to record weight loss and the numbers on the scale have been moving all right, but in the wrong direction. ZERO pounds lost in the past year as of this morning.

So here is the ugly truth.  P.S. I need a pedicure too.  I will weigh in again next Monday.  Wish me luck!

P.P.S – I have officially banned myself from taking the elevator at work anymore.  Let the humiliation begin…



Crazy Work Life

Dearest Peeps,

I miss you all so much.  As much as I want/miss/crave writing, my work life is making it really difficult to do so.  Please be patient, I will be back.

All I have had the energy to do in the evenings is to fall asleep in front of the t.v.

So, in order to remedy that, I am cancelling my cable subscription.  Just channel surfing until I pass out is not helping matters.  This way, I will be motivated to start blogging again in the evenings.

Thanks for your patience, hope you all have a great weekend!

Chrissie B

My New Love

Hey peeps.  Yesterday I wrote about trying something new . This morning I’m giving you my verdict on dragon boat practice.  Freaking. Loved. It.

Here’s why.  Zero judgement.  I was nervous heading out there and came “this close” to just driving right by the place and head back home.  It was in a bit of a grungy part of town and the facility itself was a real no frills type of place.

I expected to see uber fit and muscle bound folks.  What I saw was people from all walks of life, ages and shapes.  They were all so nice and welcoming.

On the way home I had a bit of an epiphany.  I realized that all of my life, I’ve been trying to force my body to look a certain way and that way is just not how God made me.

In high school I use to get the same question from guys all the time. “Do you play soccer?”. My legs were strong and it showed. So were my arms.  I was so jealous of girls with little skinny rail like arms.

Although I am never going to stop trying to lose weight and getting back in shape for health reasons (I plan to live until I’m 100!), never again will I wish for a more feminine slender physique. It’s just not me.

I’m also going to stop hiding under clothing that supposedly camouflages my imperfections.

Turns out I’d rather look like I can kick some ass instead of cracking in two with a strong gust of wind.

Have a great day all, and please, no matter what you look like or think you look like, you are perfectly made, so embrace it.

strong body

Trying Something New

Hi Peeps!  Well, it’s that time of year…when the heavy, bulky sweaters and puffy down coats are coming off.  As much as I’d like to say that the bulk was all clothing…I’d be lying.

Seeing as how this blog was originally to record my so called weight loss journey…it’s been anything but.

I think my body and I have reached a turning point.  It is holding of for it’s chubby dear life and my mind is gotta make some changes. Pronto.

As I may have mentioned, I joined a Zumba class. Not sure why I thought 9:00 a.m. on a Saturday was a good idea, but I’m doing it.  I look about as graceful as a linebacker but it’s fun.  There is ZERO chance of seeing my chunky butt on Dancing with anything any time soon.

In an effort to keep things fun and interesting, I’m trying something different this evening.  I’m going to…drum roll (mmmm…rolls) please…dragon boat race practice.

Why? Because, that’s why.  Although my greatest fear is of drowning, I somehow absolutely love being in the water. My love of it began when I first tried kayaking.

Anyway, I’m going to try to post at least one weight loss attempt post per week. Seems silly not to given the whole reason I started this.

Keep your fingers crossed that I don’t a) sink the boat b) get mistaken for a whale and some wiseguy just happens to have a harpoon nearby and impales me with it or c) chicken out miserably.




Bullet #2 Continued

Here is part 2 of the bullet dodge.  In case you’ve missed it, or are new here, the first part of this trainwreck can be read here.

So shortly after Bible Thumper decided that I had zero choice in becoming den mother, things got progressively hostile between the two of us.

One day I had noticed that there were black spots climbing up the wall in the corner of one of his son’s room.  I told him about it and said it looked like there was a mold problem.  Not surprising, seeing as how he was deep in the woods and did zero upkeep to his house. He got mad at me and accused me of being an alarmist.

One night I was startled awake; the whole bed was shaking.  In my half sleep state, I turned over to see what was going on and the bible thumper was furiously masturbating next to me with his laptop on.  He had a porn addiction.  I was in a fog and asked “what are you doing?”.  I mean, cheese and rice, I thought it was the beginnings of an earthquake or something. He quietly closed his laptop, turned over and acted like nothing happened.

Everything seemed fine – until I got back home from work that evening. He laid into me about what I did the night before.  Excuse me?  Apparently I was selfish by falling asleep without first knocking boots with him. Oh so sorry, I’m exhausted from leaving at the crack of dawn to drive to Montreal and back daily, and in every spare moment I have, clean your shithole of a house. How DARE I fall asleep at bedtime.  He called me a cockblock because I disturbed his porn/masturbation session.  Cue the crickets.  Okay…..

Flash forward a couple days later; I came home from work one night and was convinced I had just walked into a home invasion gone wrong.

The entire contents of his son’s room were all thrown haphazardly into the dining room. Apparently the roof was leaking and surprise surprise there IS mold in the walls.

He didn’t even try to put some sort of order to the place.  I spent about a week eating my meals with a piss stained mattress a couple feet away from my face until the insurance guy came over.

He was on vacation that week and swore up and down he would put order to the place. Never happened. He was perfectly content living like a pig in his own crap.

I was so discouraged.  Stepping into that place at night made my stomach turn and my anxiety was sky high.  When I got home on Friday night, the place was still a shambles.  He was out getting his youngest son from him mom’s in Tweed.

I was so pissed at the state of the house that I said nothing when he came in; I just shut the light and pretended to be asleep.

The next morning I was getting ready to go to the gym.  His royal fartness was still sleeping.  I was very quiet in taking my shower and going back into our room to get dressed.  As I was getting ready to leave, I noticed he was sitting straight up in bed.  I turned to smile and say good morning.

Wrong.  The look on his face told me it was not a good morning. At all.  His eyes were bulging out of his head, his nostrils were flared and his face was so red it was bordering on purple.

I asked what was wrong.  Cue the psychological mind fuckery. He said I knew very well what was wrong. I was purposely making as much noise as I could while he was trying to sleep.

It all went south from there.  He started screaming (not yelling – screaming) at me. I reached my turning point and screamed back for once.  I lived here too!  He responded with “not anymore you don’t. Get the fuck out!”

I didn’t feel like it at the time, but he did me a huge favor.  Since I was being thrown out with nowhere to go, I let ‘er rip and had a few choice words for him as well.

To be continued…



I Should Have Been Blogging But…

This entry will be short and sweet.  I was craving some fresh air, the mountains, and some time with my mama-san. She is 82 years of age, and there are no guarantees as to how much time I have with her.  That being said, we spent a day snowshoeing.  A great workout!


Matching eyebags!


82 years of age..still doing what she loves.


Trying out my Christmas gift!



Relaxing by the fire…this is the life!

My plate is so full lately, but there are times in life that you just have to say “to hell with it” and spend time with those who have always made time for you.  We spent about an hour outdoors with our snowshoes and then went out for an early dinner.

Now here is the hilarious part, mom wanted to learn how to do video calls.  When I got home we gave it a try.  She had a blast and was so happy to have learned how to do it.  She is the least tech savvy person on the face of the earth and this was a big a-ha moment for her.

Have an awesome Sunday, all!

Bullet #2

Okay peeps, it’s been a while.  I have a bunch of posts rattling around my head, but have had zero time to sit down and do something about it.

This one in particular, though, I’ve been putting off intentionally.  It’s hard to think about.  It’s been eight years, but I will still occasionally get nightmares about it.

So, without further ado, the story of the second bullet I have dodged.  This one was a doozie.

I meet The Bible Thumper on POF.  In retrospect, I think my “thing” for men in uniform really messed with my judgement.  Had he not been a medic, I probably would not have given him the time of day.

He was a single dad from Cornwall with three kids from two different women. The younger two lived with their mom. The 18 year old hid in the basement 24/7.  I normally stayed away from guys who had young kids.  I know, it’s hypocritical, but I had such a hard time with my own prodigal when he hit the teen years.  There was no way I was going to willingly jump into that fire again, so the fact that the young ones were not there full time worked out just fine.

The first red flag that waved in my face was what he said to me on our very first date.  He wanted me to know that “sex is very important to him”…..really.  Who says that first thing off the bat?  I let it slide.

On our second date, he wanted to know if we could be exclusive.  I agreed, but felt it was a little soon to be talking of that. I let it slide.  That very night, he jumped on to Facebook and updated his status to “in a relationship with” and was waiting on my confirmation.  Aaaw crap.  Awkward.  I am uber private about stuff like that and agreeing to that was like dying a thousand deaths. I let it slide.

When we met I was a super busy girl, but made time for him.  Whenever we were apart though, he would send me selfies.  Uhm…ok. Did he think I would forget what he looked like or something?  I let it slide.

He introduced his kids very early.  I was so uncomfortable with that, but I didn’t say anything.  Know what else?  His kids were creepy.  There, I said it. All three of them were socially awkward.  I kid you not, the first time we all sat down for a meal together, one of them was eating everything with his hands…and he was 12 years of age. You always knew what those kids just ate because it was smeared all over their faces and shirts.  Dental hygiene was real dodgy in that place, too.

I met the almost ex-wife too.  She left The Bible Thumper for someone she met gaming online.  The new man was a 300 pound 20-something year old dude from Alabama that was still living in his mother’s home.

I am so not making this stuff up.

We were dating just over three months when he started talking about living together. Here’s the part that embarrasses me to no end…I actually agreed to it, but reluctantly.  I met him half way and said that at the end of my lease, which was in June.  This way it gave us more time to get to know each other and to let my son finish school.  There was no way I was pulling him away in his graduating year.

The months leading up to our moving in, I started noticing little things. Things like he had no male friends. Not one.  He spent a lot of time in bed, playing video games.  He had hoarder tendencies (I spent ALOT of time organizing and cleaning that shit hole of a house that was deep in the boonies).

Moving day came and I was so not ready.  The move itself was awful, nobody helped us and I still had boxes and boxes of unpacked stuff.  I was dragging my feet.  I should have listened to my gut, because the minute we were done, he tore me a new one, screaming that I did not prepare properly and that he was exhausted from all that work.

That was how my first night was with him.  He left all my furniture on the front lawn while he went to bed.  I was so shaken and got the feeling that I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.  Also, I had left my son behind with his dad because he did not want to move.  Good call, kiddo.

I sat on that front porch, crying and shaking.  What the hell had I just done?

I kept my job in Montreal and would commute daily.  If that is not a sign that I was not embracing this new life, I don’t know what was.  He kept asking when I would start looking for work in Cornwall.  In my head, the answer was “try never”.

About two weeks after I settled in, all of a sudden one more of his kids decided that he wanted to live with us.  Next thing you know, the third one was moving back too. All of this was decided without me.  I had zero say. When I mentioned that I felt it was something we should both discuss first, he became enraged.

All right, I have to stop here, it’s really tough to re-live this. Give me another day or two and I will finish this story.

Stay tuned.