Funeral Cake

Sometimes things don't always go according to plan.
We bite off more than we can chew.
We get a little bit more than we can bargain for.
We take a gamble on something or someone and sometimes we win, sometimes we lose.


I lost.

And I won.

I'm still figuring it out actually. I'm also still trying to figure out how to put it all in words. I still can't and I don't want to try anymore. It's not worth it and now that I got to the bottom of what I always knew was true I realize that it never was.

I probably look like a fool, but my good friend Esperanza says that I'm a gorgeous fool.
I love it and I'll take it.

An ex-friend of mine once yelled at me while he was drunk, he said "Why can't you just enjoy right now and what is? Why do you have to bring up the future and think too much into things!"

I didn't know how to answer him, but after having an already deteriorating situation blow up by way of my finger on the detonator, I can say that it's just who I am.

I keep an eye out for moments or moments with people. I have too, I know that nothing lasts forever and I want to savor what I can.

These moments mean everything to me even if they mean nothing to you. Everyone goes away and things change for a reason.

I never know when it's going to happen, but I try to be prepared for it. It would be criminal of me to not let it happen, to not fall in love with anything, to not try anything new, to not endure what's inevitable. How will I ever learn?

Everybody makes promises they can't keep and everybody has conditions when it comes to accepting things. I have yet to meet anyone who has fully accepted the good and the bad when it comes to me. That's okay, every time this happens I get a little bit smarter.
I have to figure out why it was memorable and why it was bad so I can avoid it next time.

I just want to know why it was memorable.

The same way you do with an amazing dish or meal. Whether it's really good or really bad you will never forget it. You can't help but think about it.

Even if you want to forget about it, you're still thinking about it.

I love to make cake. I love to eat cake and every year for my birthday I want only one thing, a birthday cake with candles so that I can make a wish. My wish is always the same year after year, in one way or another I wish to fall in love with myself.

Just as I have with so many other things that have come and gone in my life.

I might love cake as much as I love macaroni and cheese.

At least I love something.

I enjoy making cakes for people because most people can appreciate the effort that goes into making a beautifully made and decorated cake. As an awakening artist I look at my cakes as something I create rather than just as something I make.

Everyone can be an artist.

Sometimes I think I missed my calling...

An old friend of mine a while ago gave me a compliment. I had made him a cake and after only smelling it he said "Your cake makes my dick hard."

I can appreciate this type of comment, it was the best thing he could've said.

It was my birthday a while back and I felt like I celebrated my birth, died and was reborn all in a matter of days.

It was agony. It was refreshing. It was inevitable.

I'm still not sure where to go from here, but I know that I'm still going and I'm not ready to give up yet.

There were some dark days, they were my fault.

Although, I did think about my death. I though about what it would be like if I died. I wanted to die.
My brain automatically went to food. I though about my funeral and if people would be sad if I was gone. I know they would be, because I'd be sad if I lost you.

And then I asked...Why is there always Birthday Cake, but no Funeral Cake.

I thought about funerals and all the shit food that people bring to them.

Think about it, you're already sad over the loss of a loved one or friend, why would you eat anything they served you at a funeral.
Its awful. It's usually heavy, starchy, greasy and covered in cheese.

Sounds like a dream come true!

Not for me.

I want cake at my funeral, I want you all to eat cake. I want you to indulge in the bittersweet of my death. If you're going to be sad I at least want you eat some amazing cake and know that if I were alive, I would be right there with you.

Make my cake beautiful, for all the times I never felt it. Make it white and layered like a wedding cake, just in case I never get to have one. Fill it with chocolate fudge and vanilla cream because it's my favorite. Make the butter cream layer Swiss because its the best, and please add chocolate covered strawberries to it because they are so simple, yet say so much when you eat them. Cover it in layers of fondant to cover any minor imperfections it may have. Decorate it with hand made red roses for romance.
Lastly put one candle in the top of it for me, and one in your piece.
When you finally get your piece of cake blow out your candle make a wish for yourself because I'm wishing for you too.
I'm wishing that you always find some kind of magic and love in yourself.
I'm wishing that you never give up hope in anything.
I'm wishing that you find the freedom from all the things that are holding you down.
I'm wishing that if anyone makes you feel bad that you can still look past it and see the good in them.
I'm wishing that you learn from everything you can.
And lastly I'm wishing that even if things go bad you can always find a way start over.

That's a lot of wishes.
But there's a lot of me!

This isn't the end, just a minor breakdown.

Sometimes it feels like the end, but it can always be a new beginning.

I'm not saying I'm ready to go, but if I had to go I would want you all to enjoy some...


Funeral Cake.

Love,
Trixie

Oh Little Lea!

This one is actually kind of serious, but I promise to keep it real.
When I was little they used to call me Little Lea, and I fucking hated it!
So they then called me Little Maggie instead after my mom. I think I hated that more.

My family doesn't really understand the whole Trixie thing.
It's the same fight, they don't know why I like the name or where it came from. They just know that they sometimes don't like her and the things she does.

They love Lea, they love everything about her. Lea was pleasing, she was funny, she was nice no matter what and she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Lea didn't really tell the truth though. A lot of you have seen this birth or evolution of Trixie and think you may know when it happened, but the truth is...she was always there. I can't give away the full story of the name because I believe that some things are meaningful and sacred and they are just for me.
Here is another TRUTH...
I didn't like Lea. I hated her.
Trixie has a lot of the good qualities that Lea had, it was all the bad I was trying to get rid of.
My methods may be extreme and for all the wrong reasons but I'm not a quitter and I will keep my word. I will get the damn job done.

Trixie thinks, Trixie says, Trixie does...

We look up to other people and its okay, right? We look up to famous people for fucks sake. Why couldn't I create somebody like this in myself. I knew a long time ago I didn't like who I was. I just didn't know how to make everyone stop force feeding me bullshit. Emphasis on feeding.
Makes sense now right? Who said there are rules...?

Fuck the rules, I'm gonna break them anyways.
And I'm gonna fight until the day I die, because I believe in this more than I have ever believed or loved anything in my entire life.

I think this is always who I was and it was something that had to happen.
A couple of assholes helped out, so thanks ASSHOLES you know who you are! But really it takes an individual a long time to figure out what they want or who they are. It then takes even longer to realize how to attain it. How to achieve your goal. It's up to the individual.
We're all just people in this world and we're all just trying to make it, right? I forget that sometimes.
I said to someone last week "I really feel like life gave me the shit end of the stick and tried to shove it in my ass." Who is ever really ready for that?
What do you do? Who do you become? When are you content with your life?
I have so many questions still and I don't know if they'll ever get answered.

It's a fucking mystery sometimes.

What I have figured out is who I want to be and some of the things I want to do. I know that I don't want to worry if I've made someone mad or pissed them off. When I do something stupid I would hope that someone tells me. Don't worry he usually does, she does too!

I want to do the same thing for everyone that I love, because I do. I fucking love all of you.

Sometimes when I'm around my family or old friends I have to turn off Trixie and she hates that. It has to be done to an extent, I can't leave a trail or bloodbath everywhere I go.

The World needs me.

Saturday, I saw a lot of people. More people than I wanted to. I saw my family, other members of my family and another family that is like my family.
When you're Mexican and you live in a community with other Mexican families you become attached. You become one giant family and it doesn't change. Somehow you all know each other through someone else. You will always be treated like family no matter how old you get or how far away you move. It doesn't matter that you don't even know half of them, they will still welcome you with open fucking arms. They usually have a plate of food waiting in one hand and a beer in the other but it's all for you.

It's actually an incredible feeling. I had distanced myself from it for so long that I forgot what it was like.

Saturday I stopped to see one of my oldest friends and a bunch of her family was visiting from Florida and other States. The ladies were all on the porch, the children were chasing each other everywhere and the men were in the back yard at a table covered in empty beer bottles.
The whole scene made me smile. It brought back happy memories.

I asked my old friend what she did for the day and who everyone was. She filled me in and she said "You should have gotten here earlier, we had Menudo."
Menudo, a piece of every Mexican.

It's a slightly spicy, broth soup with hominy and tripe. Tripe the edible part of the cow's stomach. It has to be cleaned and boiled because it's so chewy. It's texture is similar to calamari.

I wanted some. It's not as high in calories as you would think, but it is high in memories for me so if I ever get the chance to eat it I will.

One of my old friends aunts heated me up a bowl and set it in front of me with chopped onions, lime wedges and a plate of corn tortillas.
She served me so much and told her not too much, but she looked at me and rolled her eyes. She said "Thats hardly anything, you should eat more."

I smiled at her and graciously picked up my spoon.

It was good. It was warm and spicy. I felt like I did in my childhood years. I though about my mom, my grandma, and I thought about myself. I felt at ease and calm for a second.

Then I looked up and saw a little girl run past me.

She had to be about seven years old. She had long dark hair in a ponytail with multi-colored ribbons hanging from it.
She had chubby cheeks and she was so cute.
She was so fucking cute!
She was so fucking fat!
She was me, she was Little Lea.

She looked at me and she said "I have to pee!"

I laughed at her and she smiled back at me.
I didn't even know who's kid she was, but I was already in love with her because she reminded me of myself at that age.

She walked out of the bathroom fixed her skirt, and pulled her extremely stretched too thin shirt over her belly. I could not stop smiling at her.

She ran back outside to play and I watched her for a bit.

I visited a bit longer, ate everything else they kept trying to feed me and then said my goodbyes.

I said goodbye to my friend and I waved goodbye to the little girl. She looked at me like she had something to say but she just smiled. She waved and yelled goodbye.
Then she yelled something that wasn't English or Spanish and she came running at me.

I opened my arms and she hugged me. She said goodbye and I didn't want to let go.

I wanted to hold her for a minute. I wanted to give her all my hopes, all my dreams and everything I've learned up until now. I wanted her to have these things so that she doesn't have to learn them the hard way. I wanted her to know that someday she would understand why things were they way they were and that she would be strong and old enough to change them. I wanted to make sure that someday she would wake up and feel amazing and realize how much she was worth and how much she deserved.

She was just a child, and what did I know. Maybe she wont have to learn all the things I did.
I let her go and she smiled at me. She went back to chasing her brother or cousin or whatever he was, who knows with all those damn kids.

I got in my car and drove home. I cried when I was halfway home.
It was far away enough from everyone, but not close enough to what is expected of me.
It was safe.

It was like what I felt as a child, I just wanted to feel safe because I didn't know how to change anything.

It reminded me of what I was doing and what all this struggle was for. It gave me some direction and some closure. I let go of some of the anger I was holding onto for so long.

I hated being called Little Lea when I was younger so they started calling me Little Maggie instead.
I don't know which was worse but I know now that it was something that had to happen so that I could be this person I am today.

Oh Little Lea!

Please take care of yourselves because I need you and I love you. And that is not wrong or unacceptable.

Trixie

Bechamel is a code for FATTY SAUCE!

God Damn IT!

So yesterday I decided that today would be the start of a new way for me. I can't lie, I've been resorting to some old fatty ways and they are consuming me.

By the way....dear best friend/trainer/mentor whatever the Hell you still are...I lied to you. Just getting it out now. I'm not proud. You may never read this, but I was embarrassed so I lied.

I was convinced that it might be my surroundings or my job. Its not, its me. I have the the ability to control how I let things affect me. I have total control of what I put into my body.

You should all know this, you're all smart kids right?
You'd be amazed at how many people are oblivious as to what they are eating on a day to day basis.

As someone who is trained to work with food and now has a degree in nutrition I feel compelled to share some things with you.

I decided that all white foods have to be taken out of my diet. No white flour, white sugar, white potatoes, or white rice. I seriously need to clean up my act. Really, I've been such a bad girl. And not in the "down and dirty way", but the "I would like to disown myself way".
I posted this on facebook. The actual post said:

starting tomorrow I'm swearing off all things white! Well, except for white boys.

Don't anyone ever ask me to give up White Boys. I just can't and there are a lot of White Boys out there that still need me. God wants me to rock their world. And I will, but white foods have gots to go.

I love them more than you do so imagine how hard this is on me.
Well some Fuck-O decided to be funny and he commented on my post.
He wrote: Bechamel?

Really Asshole? Bechamel? Bechamel is just a code for fatty sauce.
I don't eat Bechamel and neither should anyone else. Bechamel is a WHITE Sauce. Its made with butter and white flour and Milk. Then people add cheese and other fatty shit to it to make it taste amazing, but its still high in calories and not good for fatty pants all over the world.

There are signs people, codes all over the food you eat and on the menus of the restaurants we eat at every day.

Now, he didn't mean to be an asshole but I'm an honest Bitch and I live in the moment and I call them how I see them.

It got me thinking, people need to know this. I have to help people...if I don't who will? So here it is....my list of food and menu triggers.

Bechamel is usually a milk or cream based sauce.
Beurre is just French for butter. So if it says beurre by your steak that means its a big fat steak covered in butter sauce. But I'm the asshole, right? No, I'm actually trying to save your life!
Hollandaise is another Bastard of a sauce. Its made with clarified butter and and egg yolks. Its delicious and sexy but its the one you really have to watch out for.
Frites is french for fried. If I have to go on and explain this to you, then you don't deserve to be my friend. I mean really...
Bacon, Pork, Sausage, the poor piggy gets a bad rap. He can't help it that he is one of the fattiest animals on the planet, but he does have some parts of him that are healthier than others.
Poached, poached eggs are great. Olive Oil poached salmon or oil poached potatoes, not so much. That's really just adding unnecessary fat to your food.
Breaded or Crusted means that they are adding some kind of bread crumb or white starch and then probably frying it.
Dressing is another one. Make sure you ask what kind it is. Some Fuck-O's like to add bacon fat and butter to a dressing that could be kept simpler with a healthier oil.
Watch out for the word "Sauce"period. Odds are that it's a mayonnaise, butter, cream, or other dairy based product sauce. Its high in calories and your arteries will thank you later on.

Its not bad to eat these things every now and then, but know what its doing to your body. Know how much you're eating and don't be seduced by the word trickery of someone else.

I'm sure my chef/foodie friends are cursing me right now, but this is important and I can't believe how many people I see day to day eating things they shouldn't. This includes me and lots of other people. I want to tell them and plead with them but I can't. I can only worry about me and currently it's a lot to worry about.

I work at a bakery. I know what its like.

I could go on and on forever but this is the important stuff.

I succeed, I fail, I do it over and over again, but I will never completely give up because I've learned. As long as I keep learning and keep going, I can't see how that's wrong. I'm not perfect, but I do have control of me. I have to remind myself of this before I start to spiral out of control.

The other day I felt like I was done, I was over. I'm not, I have to keep going. I can't forget about all those White Boys who still need me. Ironic huh?


I need them. I need all of you.



We all need each other and now we all know...

Bechamel is a code for FATTY SAUCE!

Fuck It and Good Night!
Trixie

French Fry, Denied.

I often ask myself out loud "Lea when are you ever going to learn?"
I don't know if I ever will and I don't know if I ever want to. Having a good time and making messes and trouble for myself is a lot of work but sometimes I really just do it so I can feel alive you know?
Is it better to feel something even if it hurts or to feel nothing at all?
That seems to have been the question of my life so far...but I hope that that changes soon.
Not to be all serious and depressing but its been a rough year on this girl so far and sometimes its too much for me to handle. It makes me really appreciate the ones around me that keep me going and help me out. I know I'm a lot to handle sometimes and everyone has their own shit to deal with. A lot of people think they really know me, but I don't know if they do.

Sometimes, I don't know who I am.

The one that does have to deal with me and does know me very well if my faithful life companion, my dog Max.
Yes, that little asshole that I complain about so much. He is one of the good things in my life, he's awfully needy and high maintenance, but I don't mind the work.

Max kind of fell in my lap, and he is one of the good things that happened to me last year. Max knows all of my dirty little secrets and he knows how I'm feeling all the time. He needed someone to love him, just like I did. Yes, I said it...........I want someone to love me.
I'm still a tough Bitch, but even tough Bitches like me need to know that someone cares. Anyone who says they don't is a fucking liar.
I realized not that long ago that I am just me. I am not like anyone else nor do I want to be like anyone else. Max understands this and he gets me. He really does.

He's there when I'm sad, he's hiding under the bed when I'm really mad. He even still loves me when I'm hungover, and I couldn't ask for anything more out of him.

He has never called me a loser or made me feel like a failure. He has never made me do anything I don't want to and he has never told me that 'I was no longer needed in his life because I offered him nothing'


The best thing about Max is that he does not judge me. At least I thought he didn't...

Not that long ago I woke up hungover and had to go visit my mom for the day. Visiting my mom is sometimes rough so I was really trying to get it together and focus on the day. It was a long drive and I felt like shit.

The one thing that always makes me feel better after a night of drinking is French Fries. Those imported little fried sticks of gold...wait. They're not imported? And they're not made of gold?

Someone has been lying to me my whole life!

Okay, I'm not retarded, I know that french fries are bad for you, but who are we kidding...they are delicious and I love them.

I gave up french fries a while ago because they are another one of Satan's tricks he uses to woo me back into his arms. He uses chicken fingers too, in case you're wondering.

For me, desperate times call for desperate measures and I was feeling awful. So, I stopped at the nearest dealer named McDonald's and got a quick fix.

I take my dog with me most places. I'm not one of those "dumb-carry-my-pooch-a-purse-hoes" but he is that asshole that likes to stick his head out the window when we go places. So, I take him.

I got my fries, knowing very well that I didn't need them, I know better. I should not have drank so much. I knew damn well that I had to see my mom and this would require a lot of energy. Sorry, I love you mom...but sometimes its work with you.

I reached into that white bag of fresh grease and took out one fry. Grease always helps a hangover and when I feel that bad I will do anything to get rid of it.

I almost dove right in and started eating away, but I remembered Max and thought that I was being an uber fatty. Why hadn't I thought to share with him? What a selfish Fatty I was...

I still had that one fry in my hand and reached over and gave it to Max.

Most dogs would inhale it, but not mine. He's an asshole and he knows he has to keep me in check. He is my mental last resort when everyone else is gone.

It sounds crazy but I often find myself bargaining with the damn dog about stuff.

He looked at the fry, then he looked at me, then he looked away.

He wouldn't even look at me. I have hit fatty rock bottom. I couldn't even turn my dog into an enabler.

That fucking little asshole wouldn't eat the fry I was offering him.

I don't think that little shit machine would have ate if I had cut it up on a silver platter and fed it to him with a knife and fork.

I went crazy in my head because I felt awful. I know what drinking like that does to me and I know that I don't need to eat like that.

I've come to far to go back over a fry.

If this was Max's attempt at an intervention with me it worked.

I got rid of the fries and somehow Max seemed happier with me.

Trying to lose weight isn't easy and I've learned the hard way that you need support. It's almost impossible to do all by yourself. At that time I felt the only one I had was my dog, but I still had myself. In the back of my mind I knew it. It took a moment of crazy and a little shit machine named Max, but I got through it.

Find a few you can trust and hold onto them. If you're a fatty, and I mean fatty at anything whether its eating, drinking, smoking, or just being overall scandalous remember that you have to learn how to trust yourself and what you really want.

And remember my dog Max.

This is what he would say:

French Fry, Denied.

Love,
Trixie

Fuck You Captain Sundae!

It's been a while hasn't it?

Feels like ages since I've had anything valid to share. That's kind of a lie, I've actually had lots happen I just had to get my head back together to figure things out.

I moved out on my own and am trying to adjust to living solo. It's been interesting. The only person that is judging me now is me. I can do whatever I want. Its awesome, and its really bad. I can admit now that the first week I lived on my own I ate really shitty, like pizza and cheap sandwich cookie shitty. I couldn't bring myself to finish them all. I did throw them away before I almost ate them all. I felt awful but there was no one there to tell me no. I thought, what the hell? I have to live with myself and that's why I threw it away.

Fatty needed a fix.

I've readjusted since then and am headed back to a good head space. Nothing is easy and no one pushes me harder than I push myself.

Not that long ago I went to watch one of my employees softball games. It was her first game of the season and I wanted to support her. She keeps me in line, I wanted to see her play. Well we were supposed to go to a place called Pizza Ranch. Well, I being the paranoid Bitch that I am decided it would be a good idea to check out the menu. Here is what it said:

Mile-long Buffet™

How hungry are ya?

It's a spread fit for a cowboy! Dig into our huge selection of Pizza Lover's Pizza®, plus the Country's Best Chicken®, hot mashed taters and gravy, vegetables, salad and potato wedges. Then mosey on over to the dessert pizzas including our famous Cactus Bread®. And fer the little ones, we've got puddin'!

I looked at it and almost lost it. It was like my nightmare come true. My friend was standing next to me while I looked at this menu and he said "Oh no, Lea...I can't even walk in there and if I can't go in there than you really can't." I could have been insulted but he was right. I knew there was absolutely no way I could go in there and remain composed.

I quickly sent a text to my other friend I was going with and told her that I was sorry but I couldn't go to a buffet. She said she understood and told me it was okay. She said "Don't forget to save room for ice cream though!"

Fuck me! I forgot about ice cream after the game. Its not really a night out at a game without ice cream afterward. I really wanted the ice cream too.

Well, if I was gonna have ice cream then I was gonna have to justify it and make it worth it.

I had to plan for something like that. I decided that if I was going to eat ice cream that I would have to be really good that day and not eat anything else. Well, I ate but I had to be careful because I know how many calories are in an ice cream sundae, a lot.

I sent a text to my trainer/mentor/coach/best friend asking him if it was okay if I ate ice cream if I ate nothing else that day, but he was too busy to respond to me, and I needed to get through this one on my own. I'm the independent type and I hate asking him for too much, but that's what I hired him for. That asshole would have told me no anyways, so whatever. If it had been a Grey Goose Martini, he would have said yes though. Just for the record.

It was all good. I had a plan....not eat all day and then have just a little ice cream.

The game was fun and then we headed to a place called Captain Sundae.

It was like ice cream heaven...I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I walked up to look at the menu and expected to see the standard. I was so wrong.

I walked up and saw a menu like a cocktail list. I felt like I was picking a designer martini. It had like 30 different types of ice cream cocktails. They were all themed.

I chose the Salty Dog. I figured that since I liked that drink, I would probably like the sundae.

It had vanilla ice cream; malt powder; chocolate syrup; peanut butter cups; crushed pretzels and whipped cream on top.

Dont forget the cherry.

For a fatty like me...I almost wet myself at the table. I don't know who Captain Sundae was but I wanted him bad. I wanted minutes, hours, days alone with him so I could thank him over and over again.

It was instant euphoria. Really, if I hadn't been in public I would have thrown the ice cream on the floor and rolled around in it...naked. It was cold that day too.

I ate it so fast, it was like I forgot that I was in front of people. I let Captain Sundae take over me and he could have had his way with me right there in front of everyone.

Thank God I don't live in Hudsonville.

Well here it was Father's Day and fatty pants was having a bad day. Apparently I have daddy issues and they would just not go away that day. What a day for them to show up huh?

We all know that girls with daddy issues either end up huge sluts or fatties. Lucky me, I got the best of both worlds. Thanks Daddy!

So, the only thing that I wanted to eat that day was tacos and ice cream, and then I remembered Captain Sundae. That asshole had dug his creamy pretzels under my skin and he wouldn't let go. He was wooing me with peanut butter cups and I didn't want to like it but I did. The only thing that would make Captain Sundae that much better was if he were white and blonde.

Can't help it, its my kryptonite.

Captain Sundae is so good at what he does, it wouldn't matter what he looked like.

So, here I was trying to do anything I could to not think of Captain Sundae! I cleaned, I took my dog to the park, I called my mom. I texted my trainer/mentor/coach/best friend.

I finally sat down in my car listening to my cry baby dog panting like crazy and I realized that I needed to pull it together. I needed to get tough, I needed to be the Bitch that I was. I was not going to give in to Captain Sundae! I thought about it, I thought about driving all the way to Hudsonville so I could see him and have him give me what I wanted, but I didn't.

I turned off my phone, so I could truly be alone and just ride it out. I had to, in the back of my mind I knew I was better than that. I was better than a moment of weakness. I've worked too hard and I wasn't willing to give up. A year ago might have been a different story...

I went home, cooked healthy food and hula hooped for what seemed like an eternity.

I realized that what I needed was to sweat out the crazy. Sweating gets out toxins, and exercise releases endorphins.

The fight between myself and Captain Sundae left me breathless and tired. In the end though I won.

So,

Fuck You Captain Sundae!

Love,

Trixie

Corn Addiction...

I can't help myself sometimes...

I was at home depressed because I had a part of a cookie today, and I shouldn't be but I am. I know I work really hard and I am putting in two hours a day at the gym and I'm beginning to see results again finally but its not enough for me.

I want to be skinny, I want to know what it feels like because I never have and maybe its just a pipe dream, like I'm working at something I'm never gonna get but I can't believe that or I would have to give up.
When you're really big like I was, its hard to eat stuff like cookies in front of people. Its hard to eat anything, I judge myself enough. I don't want to know what everyone else is thinking.

You all have seen me, you know I've worked really hard. I don't want to take any steps backwards, so I feel like I have to be really hard on myself.

I have to believe that at the end of all this, I'm gonna get what I want and hopefully what I deserve. It seems fair right? That damn prize at the end is gonna be awesome, and I'm prepared to work HARD for it.

There has to be something amazing out there for me.

Everyone goes through their shit to get to the good stuff.

Well I've discovered that as you start to change your lifestyle and your eating habits your whole body changes. You start to crave weird things, healthier things than you used to. Then you find out that those potato chips or that cookie you wanted so bad really wasn't a good idea. It will make you feel like crap. My stomach hurts so bad right now I want to throw up. Not because I feel bad for eating it, don't get me wrong...
For me eating a sexy rich buttery cookie is like waking up from a regretful one night stand. Trust me I've done both.
It seems like a really good idea when you want it but later on your like wait, Maybe that wasn't such a good idea. God I hope this doesn't give me diarrhea...?
My stomach feels bad because I just filled it like a whore full of shit that I'm not used to eating anymore. Butter, sugar, chocolate, I can feel it all rolling up my throat.
The only choice is to ride out that bad feeling and deal with what you've done.

So, lately the only thing I've been wanting to eat is Corn. I can't get enough of it...I would take it in the morning, the afternoon, and even in the middle of the night. I wake up wanting it, salivating...I don't get it. Its just Corn. We're all human, and some of us just want a little Corn.
Its healthy to want to Corn, right? I mean, you can try different kinds, and have it different ways until you figure out what you like. Sometimes its even different sizes!
Popcorn, Caramel Corn, and Kettle Corn. Don't forget about the Latina in me who loves her HOminy!
This Food Whore loves it all.
The way I like it best it just plain. Its the right flavor, and it is definitely the right size.
Besides its sugar and starchiness its actually healthy. And, if you buy the frozen corn which I do then its not packed with sodium. I wish it had more protein though............

I want it so bad that I start to feel bad about it. Why, its Corn, its not really that bad for you. Its like fiber and it comes out the shape it went in. It makes me feel full, and it helps get rid of all the crap.
I like everything about it...the smell, the taste, the way it sounds when its in the pan. I don't even mind if it gets a little roughed up! I love the excitement I get as I'm waiting for it to get done....
I can't help it.
Then I get to eat it.

Okay, so its not really a vegetable, but come on...live in the Grey area with me for a minute.
I promise I'll show you a good time.

This really is a good thing. Eating Corn is a good thing because then I feel lighter and I walk a little taller. This is good for fatties, we need any kind of encouragement we can get.

Like High School Girls with low self esteem, we'll take whatever!

So, I finally decided that I had had enough! I was gonna quit corn! No more late night Corn for this Bitch!
No more breakfast Corn, afternoon Corn....NO MORE!
Why did I feel so bad about something so good.....!?
I did though, and I didn't know why.
The other night I came home and Roomie was cooking some Corn. I walked in and I yelled "YOU'RE cooking corn!" She said "yes, and......you can cook some Corn too if you want."
She had no idea how addicted I was to Corn and that I wanted to quit my addiction.
I said "I can't have any Corn, I've been having too much of it lately, I told myself I was gonna slow down. OHHHHH! I WANT SOME THOUGH!!!"
She looked at me like I was crazy and she laughed, she said "its just Corn!"
I said "its too late to eat, I just can't"

I walked away ashamed, and I couldn't explain why because I didn't know why...

I waited about an hour for her to go to bed, and then I went into the kitchen, turned on the stove, pulled the bag out of the freezer and proceeded to cook some Corn.
I seasoned it and put the tiniest smudge of soy butter on it and I ate it.......
I felt guilty, I felt bad....................but it felt so good.
That small bowl of corn was the best bowl I ever ate.

I could never really give it up, especially when it makes me feel so good to fight it so hard.
I can't help it I like the work, I like the hunt and I am enraptured with the final kill.
Its the thrill of the final surrender.
I know what you're thinking...........What...a...Whore...
Its just Corn, and I need to learn how to not be so hard on myself, this is not an easy lifestyle, if it were then everyone would do it.

You can never have too much of a good thing, who cares how sinful it is or isn't, don't worry I "Corn" responsibly.

There is nothing wrong with a little corn....
and so what if it becomes a

Corn Addiction.

Love,
Trixie

Heavy Duty...

Well, it has been just too long hasn't it?
I must apologize for my absence I was caught between the voice of reason(a bitch) and reality(an asshole). It wasn't fun and has been extremely difficult but the war is almost over and it looks like I'm winning.
What am I winning you ask? I got myself back and the freedom to do whatever the hell I want. And I won the freedom to make mistakes and my own choices, to get back to what I know and what I want and the ones that I have missed and make me happy.

Everything is all mine...I take it all, the good and the bad.

I have always said: I am no ones poster child.

I feel the need to share something, sort of like a PSA.

I love people because they amuse me. We say the dumbest shit. I do it myself, just drink with me for one night and you'll know what I'm talking about.

So, I work at a bakery. I've said it before and I will say it again, its really fucking hard to lose weight and control yourself when you have to see it everyday. I'm doing it though and I'm finding success again thanks to the help of a few individuals. I am grateful...

Well at this bakery we make Tuna salad. Well, actually the Retail staff makes it and I hear at least one person a day say "Mayonnaise is so disgusting. I hate it, its got to be like so bad for you. Just listen to it, it even sounds gross." Then they shake the container to you can hear every ounce of fat hitting the sides. They laugh and they think its funny to bitch about it.
I find it really annoying, because people are dumb! We constantly act oblivious and do all the wrong things. We do them even though we know its bad for us.

Well, you know me and I rarely hold my tongue, especially when it comes to food.

I got mad and I finally said "Hey guess what? Mayonnaise is bad for you, look at the fucking label...what does it say? How many calories are in a serving of that shit." The poor retail child stopped what he was doing and looked at the label. He said "Oh my God there is 100 calories per serving!" I said "Thats right, do you even know what is in that gallon sized container of crap that has been touched by Satan?" He said "no" I said "but you eat it right? And you like it? But, then you complain everyday about how gross its got to be....yes?"
He shook his head yes to all of my questions.
I said "see, the problem is that people have no idea of what they put into their bodies until its too late. Then you have to try and fix all the damage you've done."
We do it with food, alcohol, people, feelings all that shit. We allow toxic shit into our lives and bodies.

This poor kid stood silent.

I said "See, the irony of all of this is that the warning is on the label."
He said "I don't see a warning..."
I said "Yes, its right there. It says Heavy Duty. Why would you put anything into your body that says Heavy Duty? You put heavy duty stuff into your car, or a machine. Do not put it into your body."
He looked at me like I had just told him the meaning of life or something.
He said "I never thought of it that way, wow its really, really gross to me now."

Hello?! This isn't new information, mayonnaise especially out of the gallon sized container is not really good for you. Read the label, I can't even pronounce the preservatives.

Don't do it people, don't put anything into your body that says, Heavy Duty or Industrial Strength.
Its not worth it and its no bueno.
Trust me I put enough of that crap in my body for years and now I have to work twice as hard everyone else.

Be smart, make the right decisions for yourself and don't let anyone control what you put into your body. That includes your mind too. There are crazy Bitches out there that will feed you whatever they can to get you to change. But, its not up to them. It is all yours.

Look for the signs and take care of yourself. Don't put too much of anything into your body that says..........

Heavy Duty

And if anyone has a problem with that, you can tell them Trixie said so.

Love
Trixie

Fruity Pebble Meltdown...

Sometimes you have to give in, you have to let go and you realize that you're gonna fall. So, do you try to do it gracefully or just let go and hope you don't eat shit.

I know myself pretty well and I know when I'm about to fall off. I can always feel a breakdown, sometimes I can push it back until I have time to deal with it. Then things happen and make me so angry and they seem to happen so fast that the best thing for me to do is take it out on myself.
I would rather implode in myself, than explode all over you.

I have become self destructive.

I'm not proud of this, but it seems like there is no other way.
This one had been building for a few months now and I could give you specific reasons why, but they're not really important. They're just minor details. Just know that a lot of shit happened all at once, and I couldn't handle it anymore. I know what you're thinking, Shame on you Lea for letting the bullshit of others affect, you're supposed to be stronger than that.

NEWSFLASH: sometimes I'm not, I get exhausted of always trying to handle every situation the right way, so I resort to my old ways of just not giving a shit anymore.

Now, you know as well as I know that for Lea, when things get too bad the first thing her inner fatty bitch runs to is food. So, I did. I had been consuming whatever I wanted for most of March and I'm hoping that April can turn itself around. I had been going out a lot and purposely allowing myself to drink and eat whatever I wanted. I was numbing myself, I know it. I was putting myself through a series of tests to see how I handled each one. It's like trying to brush up on something you used to know really well. I didn't do so well at first, and I had to try and re-learn some stuff.
So, here's the story...

My roomie decided or read somewhere that it was a great idea to go on a fruit fast. I guess it was some kind of three day cleanse. She asked me if I wanted to do it with her, and I said sure, why not. I've done detoxes before and lost lots of weight on them, but the after affects are usually pretty bad. The detox I did way back when says you can only eat fruit and veggies for nine days, so I did and I exercised and I lost 17 pounds. Awesome right, not really because when I was finally done, I was like I'm so hungry now I want a burrito, a pizza, cheesecake, and french fries. My addictive behaviors come back out and they live a life of extremes. I just can't seem to find a happy medium yet, but I'm working on it. I end up gaining 27 pounds back after that detox. Yeah, my metabolism sucks.
So as the frustrations in my life grew I kept rethinking this fruit fast. I decided not to do it. I didn't want to, I was having a hard enough time keeping everything else together that adding this would have just been a big mess.
I also didn't want to do it because my roomies kind of lifestyle is not always for me. Don't get me wrong its great for her, but I'm going through something else and its not right for me right now.
So since she is telling me this is a great idea, I will automatically fight. My defiant ass won't do something, just because someone else is telling me to do it. I know is self destructive and childish, but sometimes it's who I have to be in order to go forward and move on.
I need to go through things and feel them, and then deal with them. So, a couple days before she started this fruit fast some things happened in my life that pushed me over the edge, and I just lost it.
I went to the grocery store because I had no food and I needed something or else I was gonna eat crap all week at other places. I got to the store and tried to get good things, but I couldn't. The only thing I wanted to buy was a fucking box of Fruity Pebbles.

I love Fruity Pebbles. They take me back to my childhood. You know how you get sick on something and you can never eat or drink it again? Not me, I remember being really little at the babysitters and sitting at the table eating a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. I don't know what happened, but all of the sudden I projectile vomited Fruity Pebbles all over myself and the table. Every other child that was at that table ran, and I was left there alone. There sat this chubby little Mexican girl with Fruity Pebbles stuck to her shirt and all over the table. I remember sitting there crying because everyone was so grossed out and nobody would come near me. I hate puking anyways , it freaked me out and I didn't know what to do.
I was sitting there crying covered in Fruity Pebbles still holding the spoon...
Someone eventually came and cleaned me up, but I will never ever forget that moment. You would think that something like that would be enough to scare me away from Fruity Pebbles forever, but it wasn't.

I stood there in the grocery isle staring at Fred Flintstone holding a spoonful of those sweet little colored crisp rice pieces. It was like he was taunting me, he was even smiling at me, the bastard. I even tried to reason with myself by reading the box. Fruity Pebbles are only 120 calories per serving but each serving has 11 grams of sugar. On the up side, they are gluten free and the box states: "Rocks Your Whole Mouth!"
I gave in, I even bought the family size box. I didn't do it to be spiteful. I did it because I had no fight left in me at the time and I couldn't deal with anything. Fruity Pebbles make me happy, damn it! They are the complete opposite of what I should be eating.
It only took me a few days to finish that box. Every time I poured myself a bowl I felt bad about it. Not just about eating this sugary cereal that I didn't need, but everything else in between. I also didn't just pour one bowl or a small bowl, I had multiple large bowls of this cereal. I knew that I shouldn't have and I knew that I should just throw away the box before I finish it, but I couldn't. I kept eating and eating. I didn't even feel good after I ate them. I let the inner fatty Bitch takeover. That whore was winning.
I had finally had the worst day at work ever, and things at home had gotten pretty crappy. I hadn't been to the gym in almost a week, and I couldn't bring myself to go. The only thing I could think of was Fruity Pebbles. I wanted them. My inner fatty was angry and frustrated and I had lost control of her.
I had let all the other things happening around me get bigger than what they needed to. I was finally at a point that I had to have a meltdown.
So I did. I came home that day and poured myself what I thought was the last bowl and started eating it alone in my room. Then it hit me, I started crying again because I knew that all these crazy feelings I had had in my head weren't me. This was not the person I wanted to be. I didn't want roomies lifestyle, but I didn't want the one I was choosing either. I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe, but don't think I didn't keep eating, because I did. In between sobs I managed to stuff spoonfuls of Fruity Pebbles into my mouth. I'm really surprised I didn't choke.
Yes, I am a bonafide fatty.
I put the bowl down and glanced at the box that I had taken in my room with me. I looked at that asshole Fred Flintstone on the box and kicked him in the face.
I stomped on the Fruity Pebble box. I smashed it, I started to rip it up and the plastic bag that was in it fell out spilling Fruity Pebbles all over my floor.

Fred Flintstone was no longer smiling at me. Fuck You Fred Flintstone, and you're Fucking pebbles.
At that Point, I knew the meltdown was almost over and it would only take a day or so to recover. If I wanted to go back to myself and the way I was it was only a choice. I could make it anytime I wanted to, and no one around me could affect it. I knew it now.
I understood, and I felt ready to move on from this sludge I felt stuck in. I wasn't falling off anymore, and I only had to be as stuck as I wanted to be. I was no longer willing to give any of my energy to anyone who didn't appreciate it or deserve it.

Things started to look up, and roomie and I finally spoke to each other. Things at work got better and I finally made it back to the gym.

Roomie and I finally chatted before I went out last night and it was fine. She did look at me and finally ask "What was with the Fruity Pebbles in our house?"
I looked at her and said "I was wondering when you would ask me about those?"

I looked at her and said "I had a meltdown this week."

A Fruity Pebble Meltdown

Love,
Lea/Trixie

Spit it Out...

I just woke up and am probably still drunk.

What did I do last night? Nothing too crazy, or dramatic...I don't think. I honestly don't know, but I know I woke up earlier this morning in front of the toilet in a t-shirt and undies.

Yes, I've been told before... I'm a Classy Bitch!

Anyways, sorry roomie, hope I didn't make a mess. My roomie also tells me that I need to celebrate the small victories in my life and appreciate the now. She tells me I focus too much on the end goal that I am missing out on a lot of stuff right now. I try really hard to listen to her, but where I'm at right now still feels like no where. I'm not satisfied, yet. Whatever validation I'm searching for or have been searching for isn't there yet. So, I keep looking for it, and looking for it and keep praying that someday I'll find it and this void will be gone. Until then I keep living my life by trial and error with people. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes I just end up with a lot of shit stories of the things that I did.
I feel like I made a mess of last night though, but I'm gonna look at it like this...

1. I know I got upset for a stupid reason,The reason will reveal itself in due time. Don't worry trolls, eventually I'm gonna let everyone know the truth when I finish my book. Until then I just keep shoving it away except every now and then when let a little slip out. Fuck! Bad Lea! I'm just such a horrible liar!
2. I know I was drunk and the friend I was hanging out with knows I'm sometimes crazy. Whatever its the latina in me.
3. My friend and I have always forgiven each other for the shit we do to each other when we're drunk. So, I'm gonna hope on that one.
4. I could go back through and look at the text messages to figure out what happened but I'm not ready to do that yet. I know I sent some crap to a few people last night. Low self esteem will do wonders for you when you're drunk!
5. I ate fairly well yesterday and when I came home upset I did not eat anything.


Did you hear that suckers?????????????????? Nothing! I did however drink a lot...
So much that I just had to give up and pass out because I really didn't know what to do anymore. I tried to sleep, but that didn't last very long. The spins set in and the roll of heat came over me and I made it the bathroom just in time. I also fell asleep on the floor....
It's funny, you can laugh at me, I am.
Which brings me to puking...I hate it, its gross and I don't know how anyone could be bulimic. I know I make jokes about being bulimic, having prolimia (ask Paul Star or Jamie Hance what it is), anorexia, or manorexia. It's just a joke, because I know what its like to struggle. Don't think I don't have issues with food or that I don't I relapse all the time, because I do. I want it everyday, and I want it bad. I'm a binge eater and that is just as bad.
I will wait until no one is watching.
At least, I think no one is watching...but someone is always watching.
Last week I had to make these special Braided Danishes for Easter. I had to make four different kinds. I made an apple one, a chocolate one, and the last two had to be bullshit ones. They were raspberry and cream cheese, and strawberry and cream cheese.
Cream cheese is like crack to me. One little hit and I'm done, I'm twitching in a corner with my eyes rolling backwards alone...
Why Satan, why?
Well, they kind of turned out and they kind of didn't, but they sat there for a whole day before I could cut them up and try them out. Everyone kept asking me, "Lea, when do we get to eat that? Lea, when, When, WHEN?!" They all wanted it as bad as I did.
I told everyone I would let them eat them after I showed the owners, my bosses and got their input. Its my job, they ask and I produce. Unfortunately for me its food, and if they don't like it the first time, I have to keep remaking it until they are satisfied.

Well, son of a Bitch...they liked them. They only need a little bit of tweaking, but next week I'm going to kill it when I remake them. I will have to try them again, and I'm gonna hate it but I don't have to swallow it. Just taste it, and spit it out. That is what I do with most of the stuff I have to try there. I have to! Everyone gets grossed out, but its what I gotta do. I wish I didn't even have to taste it.
They sat out all day and everyone kept eating it. It was torture, I kept moving the tray of the cut up pieces away from my work space but somehow some asshole would move them back. My assistant tries to keep me strong. She will move the scraps away from me without my having to ask her. If she sees me go for something, she'll say "Don't eat all of that, you know you don't want to!" She gets me, and she knows when to back off and when to check me. Well, that bitch left for the day!
I was on my way out the door to go get some lunch and it hit me. I was hungry and I couldn't fight the danish anymore. I cut a piece, just to hold me over until I got some real food.

I honestly thought I could get away with it because everyone who normally checks me was gone. No roomie, no chorizito(if you're smart you can figure out who that is), no awesome assistant. Everyone still there that day could have cared less if I ate the whole thing or not. I was in mid chew when I heard someone call my name.
It was the damn Retail Manager, another good friend who has seen me at my biggest and actually teared up the other day as he told me he was proud of me for changing my life. I don't like to tell him, but I sometimes give a shit about him.
He said, "Lea?" And then he gave me the come over here nod, he was rinsing dishes, so he had his hands full.
I turned around, still in mid chew not even thinking about what was in my mouth and I said, "What?"
He looked at me and then he nodded to the trash can, he didn't really have to say anything. I knew it right then at that second. He looked at me and said "Spit it out."
I had been caught and I was ashamed. I felt so bad and it got even worse because I had started to swallow. I spit out this giant lump of masticated danish into the trash and tried to gag up the little bit I swallowed. It wasn't working though, I could still feel the lump in my throat. So I took a huge swig of water and half swallowed it, and finally I threw it up. It was like he had reached down my throat and pulled the demons out of me, like an exorcism. The girl behind me said "Oh my God, I can't believe you just made her do that! I don't think I could do that, Gross!" It was fine because, I needed someone to do that. I stood there rinsing out my mouth over the trash can and I said quietly with a smile on my face "I fucking hate you right now." He said "but you love me a little bit too."
I was thankful for that moment because I needed that to happen. I didn't want that danish in my body. It was truly a religious experience and I needed someone to try and cleanse me, because this fatty bitch fell off. I know when I'm too close to the dark side and sometimes I can't save myself.
We put a lot of crap in our mouths, and our bodies. Physically, and mentally sometimes we need to be told to spit it out. We don't want to hold on to anything that could sabotage us or keep us down.
I often feel like no one is around or that no one cares anymore. But that's not it, people are people and they have their own shit to deal with. My friends are still there, they just can't be there all the time, but that doesn't mean they stopped believing in me.
I need to relearn how to believe in myself.
Sometimes I think I can't do it anymore and I want to give up. Is it worth it anymore? Am I ever going to get there? Am I ever going to get what I want or is it all just a pipe dream? "Is the juice worth the squeeze?"
Yes...I would rather die trying, than give up on myself or any of you. People will believe in you if you let them, even when you don't believe in yourself.
Until then I'm learning to enjoy the time I have right now, because I know there is something amazing for me ahead...and I'm willing to do the work and to wait!
So whatever you're dealing with just listen when someone says....

Spit it out.

Love,
Lea/Trixie
P.S. Don't ever swallow...

I was hungry for White Boy...

Someone the other day was talking to me about my blog and he said "I'm surprised you put some of the stuff in you do, I'd be embarrassed."

I am, but there's that shitty cliche, "The truth shall set you free"
I know the past is the past, and the present is right now and all that shit. I don't have to explain the past, its mine and eventually I will let you in, but whats happening right now is more important.

If you really want to know it all, I'll tell you.

I know, I know. Lea, stop don't get all self helpy. People don't want to be helped, they want to be rescued before its too late. That's when the desperation sets in. There are also those that don't want to be helped at all, you just have to be there when they get through it. I know both of these people, personally.

I know I've said it before but boredom can get the best of me. It gets hard trying to figure out how to deal with yourself when you get so bored with everything. So, I cling and hold on to the things that keep me going the most. Whatever, whoever it is I'll take it. But I hold on to it so tight that I eventually smother it. Murder, death, kill...

Its a token Lea move, don't ask me why I do it or any of the things I do. I just do, and not you nor anyone else can change me until I'm ready to.

People have to learn how to help themselves.
That's what I'm doing...I've been liberating myself one mistake at a time.
My guitar teacher once told me: "We keep making the same mistakes over and over again because we are so desperate to fill a void in ourselves that we don't know we're doing it."
Sometimes I think my guitar teacher can be a Prick, but I guess it works for me.

I'm just a professional mess maker! I wish I could get paid for this shit.

I do really good for a while, and then things get too good and the fatty in me come out and that crazy Bitch has to ruin everything.
She can't have just a little, she has to have it all!
Whether its the cake, the booze, or the boy in this case. I will over do it...
I'm really trying to not do it so much anymore but every now and then it sneaks up on me. Things get good and then I fuck them up.

Maybe I'm afraid. Maybe I'm just not ready, even though I want it so bad.

Which brings me finally to the story I wanted to share with you...
I was at work a while ago and I am constantly surrounded by white starchy things I can't have. Notice I said can't, I've worked too hard to allow myself to have them anymore. I know its unhealthy behavior to think this way, but I think my past is unhealthier.
Anyways, I see white bread all damn day! French, Sourdough, Foccacia, and all the white pastry and cookies you can think.
The smell of fresh bread coming out of an oven is enough to make me puddle on the floor. Its overwhelming for me and it makes my job tough every single day. I ask myself all the time why I left my last job and took this one, but I know the reason. I also knew it was gonna be tough and if you know me, you'll already know that I don't make anything easy on myself.
Again, don't ask why. I don't fucking know.

Things are easier said than done...

Its like I'm shitting cliches today.

Sorry, I was at work and I was babbling to myself, and what I wanted to say was "God I'm hungry for white bread." What I actually said was "God I'm hungry for white boy."
Yes, I said it out loud and some people heard me. I laughed until I almost puked and then I ran to grab my phone to call an infamous white boy I know because I hadn't talked to him in a while and I missed him.

He was the only one that I knew could appreciate the shit that comes out of my mouth.
I told him what I had said and he laughed at me. It was good to talk to him, and I was happy to hear that he was okay. And yes, I missed him, probably more than he missed me.

It was about two weeks later that I saw him, and I actually got to hang out with him. We drank, we danced and we having a good time, then I had to fuck it up.

As I went to say goodbye I hugged him, and I said something very important to him and then...I bit him. I have no idea why I did it, but I did. I actually bit him, and I think it was on the neck. Who does that? I do, I guess. I bit him and his first reaction was to hit me, which he did. He hit me on the side of the face. He probably doesn't remember hitting me, but its okay. I'm sure I had it coming....
I have to laugh about it now because it's a little funny. NO, it's a lot funny!
I saw him outside of the bar, and he wasn't really mad at me, but he said "the bite, no me gusta. No bueno." I said I was sorry, and then I felt really bad.
We talked about something else for a minute and then I said something else that pissed him off, and he finally walked away mad.
I was upset. The other friend who was with me told me not to worry about it. She said "you were both drunk, let it go. He might not even remember it."

I would remember it though, I would remember the disappointment I saw in his face when he looked at me. I would remember how I made him mad, so mad he hit me. I had to deal with the feeling I had as he walked away from me pissed off. That knowing in my head that I had fucked up again. My obnoxious behavior had once again poisoned a situation like a bleach cocktail.

It was like I had eaten the whole cheesecake even though I said I was only going to have a bite. I felt like I failed again, and now I had to go home and figure out how to make it better.
The old Lea would go to the closest fast food place and get french fries, because I love them with lots of high fructose corn syrup (ketchup). Then I thought about going to the store to get pizza, because pizza makes me incredibly happy, even the shitty frozen kind. I'm not real picky when it comes to pizza. Okay that's a lie, but when I need a fix I'm willing to settle. And at that point in time I needed a fix to help me forget about what I had done. Then I thought about going to the gas station to get potato chips. Whoever invented potato chips can go to hell and sit next to me, because I love you and would do absolutely anything you want.
No really if George Crum were still alive he could have all the tug-jobs he wanted, because that is how much I love potato chips.

I didn't though, I didn't get any fast food. I didn't go to the store, or the gas station. I didn't even come home and try to secretly eat in the kitchen so my roomie doesn't hear me. She says she doesn't judge me, but sometimes I think she does. I project my judgment onto everyone else. Its my catholic guilt, I feel like I am always doing something wrong.

I came home, I sat on the couch, and I said to myself "Lea, you are going to have to deal with yourself this time. You are going to have to learn how to deal with this feeling, not do it again, and not try to make it go away with food."
I had to try and learn from this one. This mistake was important, it was so important because I realized that I fucked up and I was strong enough to to deal with it and not try to comfort myself with something else...whether it be food, alcohol, drugs or people. All of my vices were uninvited for the night and it was just me.
Its frightening sometimes to be just by yourself, it is for me anyways.
I did it though, and I realized for a minute that I had grown, I had learned and I've changed. I had successfully made an attempt to change my life.

I was never going to be the same.

As for the white boy I bit, well he wasn't mad, probably annoyed more than anything. He knows that I was drunk, and how important he is. I could never do anything legitimately harmful to him.
What can I say, I called his ass and warned him already. I guess I wasn't kidding.

I was hungry for White Boy...

Love,
Lea/Trixie

Sex Dreams and Corn Flakes

I have a clear head today, its almost too clear. Not that I love being hungover, but some of my best stories happen when I am drunk. If I stop drinking then what am I gonna have to tell the world?

Well, I can tell you lots of things!

For a very long time I felt nothing. I wasn't really happy, I wasn't really sad. To the outside world I probably looked depressed, but I don't think that I was. I became accepting of what my life was. When you're a fatty, you get to a point that you accept that this is your life. This is what I get, and society tells me that I have to make the most of it.

Screw that! It finally hit me one day that I wanted more. I can't tell you about the exact moment that it hit or who it was that made me see it, because its happened multiple times with multiple people. I try to learn something from everyone in my life whether they are vital to me or not. Even if they get sick of me or not, they are people, they are constant and they happen to me everyday.
I've had ample opportunities to change my life in the past and I've tried but somehow I have managed to mess them all up, until about two years ago...

Honestly, my vaginacologist was the one who put me on a diet. He said "you are sick, you probably have diabetes and you're wasting my time and yours if you don't lose weight. Whats it gonna be? I can put you on a medication right now if you want?"

My vaginacologist is a Prick, but I have the up most admiration for all Pricks.

I just looked at him and said "all right, tell me what to do, and I'll do it." He gave me a piece of paper that had the food exchanges listed for a 1,500 calorie diet.
After that I went home and I cried, yes I cried not because he was a total prick to me, but because he was right.

I knew it, too. I was wasting my time and trying to fill in the nothing I felt with everything else, Food, work, alcohol, drugs, girls, boys...anything.

Anything to make me feel something.
Attractive is something I've never really felt, put it at the top of the list along with
Desirable
Sexy
Hot
Wanted
Fuckable

I get words like:
Cute
Cuddly
Squishy
Hug-able
Chubby Cheeks, yes a lot of people still call me chubby cheeks
-These words describe a teddy bear, I am not a fucking teddy bear.

The first list is what I wanted, lets be real people. We want the Madonna and the Whore. I was exhausted of being a good girl, and just making do with what I had. That's not me and I don't think I can go back.
We should all lose weight because its good for your health, and you want a long and healthy life, but I'd be lying if I said that was the only reason.

You know me, I'm not a liar...and neither are you.

We all want to be desired, and wanted, we want to be wanted by someone else. The trick is that you have to want yourself first.
I remember being at my old job with a friend and I don't know what we were talking about, but I remember saying to him "we have to make me into something that somebody wants someday!" He looked at me and laughed. It's the truth, I wanted to be something that somebody would eventually want someday. I didn't want what I had, so I figured if I turned it into something that someone else would want, then eventually I'd want it too. The health stuff that comes along with losing weight is all a bonus baby!

Guess what? It works, I eventually felt better, and I looked better too. I'm not trying to toot my own horn, but you all saw me. I was a beast! And I can say that now and laugh about it. I felt content for a bit with trying to make others happy, but not all of them appreciated me, so I had to stop giving them everything. I wanted to feel anything so bad that I took whatever I could get, even if it meant doing ridiculous things like cutting up apples for people every single fucking day. I was addicted to that shit like a drug.
Its like you feel nothing, nothing, nothing and then one day it clicks. The apparent Sex Goddess in me woke up. It just all happened to coincide with a conversation about sex dreams and corn flakes on Facebook.
My dear friend Esperanza made a comment on Facebook about how eating corn flakes before bed gave her naughty sex dreams. Other people commented on it, and one person even commented how Corn Flakes were created to deter people from masturbating or thinking of anything sexual. The inventors of Corn Flakes thought that if you followed a bland boring diet you would not have any desire to have any kind of sexual desires.
They......are so wrong.
I made a joke to Esperanza about how I was going to eat more corn flakes! I did. I don't even really like corn flakes, but my roomie does and she had a giant box of them on our refrigerator, so I got into them one day. I hardly ever really sleep let alone sleep enough to have an amazing sex dream. They only happen once in a great while and I wake up feeling very confused. It took about a week of me eating corn flakes constantly because I was curious if I could even have a sex dream that I finally had one.

It was awesome, and totally rocked my world. Everyone who I have talked to about this wants the details, so I'm finally ready to give it up. It was a very hot boy, and its not who you think it is either, so forget about that. The interesting part is that it was a combination of people in my life past and present. It was the physical body of one person and the voice talking to me of the other.
It was raw, I had my hands wrapped around things that I wouldn't normally go for. I'm forward but I've never been that forward. I was putting things into places that I normally don't initiate going towards. And I was just taking it like it was my job. In my dream it was so good, I went back for seconds!

I woke up from that dream breathless, and disoriented.
I woke up from that dream alive, and excited.
I got up and I went to the bathroom because it was so good I thought had wet myself, but I hadn't wet myself. My world got rocked so hard that I had started my period. I wasn't upset, I was more excited to get it over with so that I could see what happens next...

Hows that for feeling alive...
I had a bottle of bubbly later that day with my roomie for Valentines day, and when she asked me why I was in such a good mood I told her all about it.
We had a toast to:
Sex Dreams and Corn Flakes.

Love Lea/Trixie

Everybody wants a Blow Job!

Well, here I am again...I've managed to not only shock everyone around me but I think I have finally topped myself. You'll have to ask last night about that one, but the events did spark the desire to tell you this one...

If you didn't know I used to be huge. I'm still big, but not like I was, and fuck all of the friends who didn't tell me this sooner. Chubby, Pleasantly Plump, big boned, its all bullshit! We all know the truth, but I'm willing to say it.
We know what we think when we see the overweight lady hunched over a shopping cart because she is so big that she can't put too much pressure on her poor overworked feet. And the fatty in the amigo cart with a fucking oxygen tank! It makes me angry and one day I swore that that would never be me. I did not want to end up the sad, saggy, lonely fatty hunched over a shopping cart full of processed food. Oh that lady at the store makes me so angry, you can tell she does not even know what exercise is because her ass is so big.
I know what you're thinking, Lea, your ass is huge how can you say this about someone else you don't even know. Easy, I'm an honest BITCH! I call them how I see them.

I have ghetto booty, and people love it.

I refuse to go out like that though, never. I don't know what lies in the end of all this for me, but when I do go its going to be epic. Remember that.

I was miserable for a very long time and yes I wanted to kill myself. If I could have suffocated myself with food and not eaten my way out of it I would have. You could say that all fatties are just killing themselves with food anyways, right? I was, and someone finally made me realize I had to change. I knew this all along, but I got too comfortable with the way things were that I never saw how they could be. I still can't grasp how far I've come and the opportunities that lie ahead of me. I get into my own head too much and sometimes its too hard to get out.

So I started making small changes to my life. I started working out first, because I knew that trying to exercise would be the hardest. It was, it was also the most intimidating. I blocked out everyone around me so that I didn't have any distractions, or negativity bringing me down. I can bring myself down all by myself thank you very much. Then I had to change how I ate. I had to look at the crap I was putting into my body and stop.
Little by little everyone started to notice and then one by one the ones that wanted to started following my lead and changing their lives too. I was so thankful for all of them, for noticing, for wanting to be better versions of themselves. They were inspiring me to work so much harder. I didn't want to let any of them down. It wasn't hundreds of people or anything, but it was just the few that mattered the most. I wanted to keep them around forever and never let go.

Then there were the others, the ones who enable you to drink, eat shitty, and generally make you feel like shit even though they have no idea they are doing it. Yes, I have plenty of those in my life. That doesn't mean I love them any less, because I do. I love everyone...

So I had this friend that I eventually lived with. Good friend, and has always been there for me. We've known each other a very long time. He used to pick on me when I would cook food. I remember one day he told me "your food is boring. its all really bland, I could never eat plain oatmeal or plain egg whites. I gotta have some flavor or a little fat."
Guess what asshole, this is how people who care about their bodies eat. This is how athletes eat, and this is how I have to eat in order try and make my life better. I would like to see you try it.
But he couldn't, he always had an excuse. He would say "I have no time, I'm too tired. I only have to lose an extra 15 to 20 pounds anyways. I'll start tomorrow."

And then one day a miracle happened, Satan works in mysterious ways...my dear friend tried on a shirt and he walked out and he said "I think its too tight."
I just looked at him and tried to figure out what to say to him. The shirt was so tight that the buttons were popping open. It was obviously too small and it was just sad.
I said "how old is that?" He said, "I just bought it last year and I've only worn it like twice. These shirts are expensive and I hate to get rid of it. Guess its time for me to go on that diet." We laughed and I smiled at him and said "its okay, you can do it. I'm here for you."
I felt good for a minute, I thought I had gotten through to him, the only thing I have ever wanted for everyone is to just take care of themselves.
Like I said I felt good for about a minute. See everything with this friend felt like a competition. So, eventually he was going to be able to do everything better than me. Eat better, run faster, and buy better clothes. I always felt inadequate, and I hated it. Things came so easily to him, and it seemed like he was gonna lose those 15-20 pounds by just changing what he ate. I on the other hand still had so much left to lose. I was gonna have to work, sweat, and fight twice as hard. I had to be more disciplined, and I hated it. It seemed unfair.
Its not easy. It never will be, so don't tell me that it is.
After he started running, and eating better he looked good. He felt better and he slimmed down a lot. I was happy for him, really I was!
He said, "You, know what? I thought this was going to be hard, but its not. One week and I don't even want any bad food. I smell the french fries at work and it makes me sick, I don't even want to eat them. I don't crave any of that bad food at all!"
At that moment I was so angry because I was tired. Tired of working harder than everyone else, tired of listening to my own pathetic excuses, and tired of listening to this Bitch tell me it was easy. This piece of shit took everything that I was working so hard for and shit all over it. He cheapened everything I was doing and he took away my luster. I shouldn't have let him, but I did.
I felt like my hard work meant nothing.

I lost it, I turned around and I looked at him lounging in his stupid recliner and I said "Do not sit there and tell me you don't crave french fries!" He argued with me "what? I don't, its true. I don't want any bad food, its disgusting!" I got angrier and I said "you're a fucking liar, you telling me you don't want any bad food is like saying you don't want a Blow Job! Everybody wants a Blow Job. I want a Blow Job right now and I don't even have a penis!"
He looked at me and it took me a second to calm down. Then we both laughed and he said "Did you really just say that?" I took a deep breath and said "yes, I think I'm just hungry or something. I'm sorry but you were frustrating me." He said, "Why don't you go eat something before you really lose it."
I ate something, I'm sure I didn't enjoy it because I was still so angry.

No one is perfect, and we all have to work really hard for the things we want. Once you do something its yours, you own it and no one can take it away. Its okay to indulge in those guilty pleasures every now and then. Everyone needs a little dirty deed in their lives sometimes. So get you some, just don't pretend like you don't want it, because I don't care who you are...

Everybody wants a Blow Job...

Love,
Lea/Trixie

You Had Sex Salad!

I'm still wearing last night, all of it. The lipstick, the eyeliner, and the hair are an absolute mess just so you know. I know that a couple of ibuprofen and a shower could severely change my life right now but I have to tell you this story from the other night.

Last night is still too new to talk about, and I’ve got to digest some of it before I can do anything else with it.

Two nights ago I was invited to a friends’ house for dinner and some recreational activity. I love these girls and I think they're great so I was super excited to hang out with them.

I walked in and Friend #2 says "we're having Italian night, some pasta with sauce” which friend #1 was in the process of making. Then she says "we're also having a little pizza"

I feel like I did a really good job of maintaining my portions, but I had also hit the gym that morning before work and then gone to a rough session of Hot Yoga. At this point I was ravenous; I hadn't really eaten because I was pretty busy all day. There were two other reasons I didn't eat very much, first one was that I knew I was going to have dinner with them and I had no idea what they were going to cook.

It’s hard for me to be social and live the life that I have adapted to. It’s also hard to eat with other people; I don't want to offend anyone ever with what they cook for me. Especially if I go to their home, I don’t ever want to seem ungrateful or unappreciative. It’s okay for me to eat things that are not always the best for me. I have to remind myself that it’s only a little bit, and its fine, don't freak out about it. I try not to overindulge anymore and I just can't eat like I used to. My stomach can't even hold that much anymore. I have to be really careful when I drink also. Drinking is my gateway to a relapse in my fatty place. We could call it an addiction, but that is too serious for me and I don't want to think about it too much. Anyways, when I drink I get so hungry for shitty food. Any shitty foods, chicken strips with ranch dressing, french fries, pizza. I think I've eaten a hamburger that belonged to someone else while I was drunk. No, really I found it in the fridge and heated it up.
Anyways, the other reason was that I knew we were going to smoke and I knew that I would have the munchies afterward
Friend #2 made a comment during dinner that stuck with me. No one actually said we were going to smoke, but it didn't need to be said. We knew. Friend #2 asked Friend #1 "Can you bring me another piece of pizza? I just want to be really full."
I thought about this for a second, if I were really full would that take away from the wanting to eat afterward. Could I kill the munchies before they hit? So I decided to try it, Friend #1 came back with the rest of the pizza and she looked at me and said "do you want another piece?" Of course I did, I ate it and it was delicious. We laughed, we ate, we drank and then Friend #2 puts her hands on the arms of her chair and says "Let's smoke!"
We headed to the living room and started smoking. We talked about all kinds of stuff, food, sex, work. The food and sex was me, I don't know why but I always combine the two.
Friend #2 started talking about the wedding they were going to the next night. She was really excited to get away, to stay at a hotel, to dance and drink. Then she started talking about what she hoped they ate. She said "I hope we have Aphrodisiac Salad!" I asked her what it was. She said "It was a salad we had on Valentine's Day. It had fruits, and seeds and flowers. It was good. I don't know, it was called aphrodisiac salad." I said "well an aphrodisiac is supposed to make people want to have sex, or make them feel sexy. Did you have sex?" She said well, yeah but the salad was good." I said "well did it make you feel sexy?" She said, "Not really but it was still really good."
In my heightened state of mind I said "So, you had sex salad!"

Everyone turned and looked at me and started laughing. I didn't realize what I had said until after I thought about it for a minute. I said "No, yeah, it was a sex salad."

We all laughed.

And just to let you know I came home and still had the munchies. I should be embarrassed to tell you this next part, but I came home and ate cheese and triscuits; 10 pretzels; and a 100 calorie bag of microwave popcorn. That wasn't enough though. I was still hungry and I was eating mindlessly. I couldn't stop myself I opened the refrigerator and grabbed the parmesan cheese. It was the reduced fat sprinkle kind so the only way I was going to be able to eat it was out of my hand or with a spoon. I had nothing to put it on so I don't really know what I was thinking. I reached for a spoon and I stopped. I got angry, I said out loud "Really, Lea what the fuck are you doing you gluttonous bitch! Is this what you have resorted to? You cannot even control yourself!" I threw the spoon in the sink and put the parmesan cheese away.

I know it’s horrible and I should be ashamed of myself, but its true and one thing I've never been is a liar.

Wish I had had a "Sex Salad".

Love,
Lea/Trixie

Food Whores!

So,
I cannot sleep and I should be because this girl has to get up early and get her ass on an elliptical in the morning and make it her bitch before work! If you don't know, I work out a lot and I like it.

Been thinking about this for days and I gotta get it out of my head.

I don't get people.

I get a lot of people coming up to me day to day and say "I really want to lose weight. Its just so hard! How did you do it?" First of all, duh! I know its fucking hard. Second of all don't ask me to share my secret, there is no secret. I had to meticulously count everything I ate for three years until I relearned how to eat properly. I also had to learn how to work really hard for my food and my drink! I love the drink, especially whiskey and vodka. As a fatty you live a life of excess that applies to the drink also. I had to work out like a maniac to get a functioning metabolism. Finally I had to figure out how to maintain it by myself without the help of anyone else. Its really great to have a support system but at the end of the day you have to live with yourself. You can't rely on anyone else to keep picking you up. If your support system really believes in you they will either stick around and tough love your ass till it hurts or they will let you go and come back when the time is right. You know they're there, somewhere...
Trust me I know.
So don't come to me and tell me you want to lose weight unless you really want to. I manage a bakery, this is not the ideal job for someone like me, but I make it work. I have to try and make as many people as I can hold me accountable for what I eat while I'm at work. If I ever feel weak and see something I want like the sinfully delicious cream cheese danish, I have to keep telling myself its not worth it. I don't need it, and it will not make me feel better.

I am convinced that Satan invented cream cheese, ranch dressing, and mayonnaise. Three things I used to love.

This girl I work with comes up to me and says "I have gained so much weight since I started working here and I hate it. This is the biggest I have ever been, I just feel so fat and gross." Yeah, eating too much at a bakery will make anyone fat. She is the size I would give anything to be right now. I said "Well how much do you weigh?" She said "160 lbs." I said "that's what a hundred and sixty pounds looks like." She laughed and began telling me a whole bunch of excuses as to why she just couldn't make herself work out.

This is where I feel like a total asshole, because I think this chick is cool and I don't want to hurt her feelings but I take this shit seriously. She comes to me and tells me what she eats all the time. She had a salad, so she felt great about that. She went home the other night and made baked chicken and vegetables. Awesome! Good for you! Don't expect a pat on the back from me, because the next day I watched this bitch make a huge sandwich, add on a bowl of tomato basil bisque and lastly add a handful of potato chips to her plate. This is okay if you're a fifteen year old boy!
I turned my head and looked away, because I know what it feels like to give up and head towards a binge. Its depressing and you usually feel like shit afterward. I've been there and done that.
This is where I lost my cool. I watched her dip potato chips into her soup, not just soup, BISQUE! Creamy Fatty Bisque! I can see the oil in this soup, its so fattening that the soup itself looks miserable as its trying not to break. This bisque is good, every now and then I let myself eat 2 ounces of it. Its also about 390 calories per cup. Why in the hell would you dip a potato chip into soup. I literally stopped everything I was doing and yelled "Oh my God, what are you doing?" Complete with panic hands on head.
She said "I'm eating, chips and soup and I don't care what you think. I've had salad the last two days and I'm sick of it. Just leave me alone." This is what makes someone a food whore.
Don't ask me for help if this how you handle shit. Don't expect me to listen to you cry about how much you hate your body if you're not willing to do the work.
Some of us have it easy and some of us don't...c'est la fucking vie.
I wish I could cure all the gluttonous food whores of the world, but some of them just don't want to be saved.
There isn't a girl in the whole world who gets more tingly about good food more than me. Come on, I call macaroni and cheese "Hot Cheesy Ecstasy!" But chips dipped in soup, this just screams food whore. There isn't a rule that says you can't be a little bit bad. I practically had a nervous breakdown over eating too many Triscuits last week. But for crying out loud, if you're gonna be bad, make it good and make it worth it. (I know what its like to be a food whore.)
And if you're gonna be a whore, own it.
Love,
Lea/Trixie