Ode to Cindy Lauper

I went back to Weight Watchers. And this time, instead of cheating and using my sister's materials, I paid for the friggin membership. And somehow, Cindy Lauper was right: Money Changes Everything. I PAID to use a tracking system to kick myself back into healthy eating habits and exercise habits. I paid to do something that I have done succesfully "on my own" at least twice before. But, somehow that seems to have provided the motivation to buckle down and actually do this. (Instead of talking about doing it and then bitching about fat clothes and how I need a boob job - both still legit stances upon which to bitch.)

I am doing the online thing, and let it be known to the fellow WW crew that I have this blog (we'll see if they check it out and then boot me from the program for my sarcastic attitude and potty mouth).

I made it through one day successfull, and am a good chunk of the way through the second. Maybe I am back on track! My clothes sure hope so - they are pinching me as a reminder to get rid of the buffalo butt and muffin top gut. Buffalo Butt and Muffin Top Gut - my new theme song, perhaps.