I'm on the Wagon

Fuck.

I used to love to swear and be completely inappropriate but so many other dickheads and douche bags do it now that they're making it really uncool.  Thanks Jersey Shore.

Lately it seems to be "One of those days" every fucking day.  I do my best to get through them and just keep going.  If its the only option I give myself then that's the only thing that will happen.

Its not a secret that I struggle with my weight.  I always have, and maybe I always will.  But that's my problem, not yours.  I'm working on it.  Its taken me years to realize that the only person who can change your situation is you.  I can't help you, you can't help me.  We have to help ourselves.

I'd pretty much hit my lowest point last year and didn't know if I would ever get back on the ride that is my life.  I'd lost a lot of things and people that were really important to me, and even though I wanted to die, I was still living and the fucking world kept turning.  I had to keep going.

The truth was that I had taken so many positive steps forward to take like one hundred shallow narcissistic steps backwards.  When I didn't know where I was or what to do, I just quit.  I gave up and said fuck it.  I'm gonna go back to the old Lea and back to whats comfortable.

Eighty pounds later I found everything I was running from and when I had to look at it in the mirror I still hated it.

I left Michigan and moved to California to get away from everything and start over.

But, when I got here I was the same.  I still hated what I saw in the mirror.  Only this time I knew why I hated it so much.  I hated because I knew better.  I knew I was better than what I was being.  That flame never left me, it just kind of went to a flicker like a candle that's breathing its last breath.

I was breaking my own heart.

I had already let someone else break my heart, I had had the universe break my heart when I watched my mother leave this earth and now I was still breaking my own heart.  As if I hadn't had enough.

I am the truest glutton you'll ever meet.
I am the purest sinner I can be.

I was singing the same song to a friend of mine over Facebook because things weren't panning out as I had planned on my new adventure.  I was again talking to her about how much weight I had gained and how miserable I was.

She told me about this body challenge she was doing and that she wanted me to think about it.  Then typed this:
Can't stop thinking about you... So this challenge...I don't want to seem like I'm selling you, but I just keep coming back to your passion about healthy food and the power you have to impact soooo many people. This may not be what you were thinking when you dreamed your dream, but I think it is a vehicle that will get you there.

And I thought...Fuck it.  I might as well give it a shot.  I wanted to change, and I wanted to fix the situation that I was in.  I knew I had to quit drinking, I had to stop eating garbage and I had to take control of my health.  I was depressed and it was starting to really show.

So, I did.  I re lit my own flame and I was starting to feel good again.  I was starting to feel like I could make changes and that things didn't have to suck as much as I though they did.

I quit drinking at work with everyone else.  Alcohol does terrible things to me, I can acknowledge it now.  I started eating better and working out again.  I'm feeling better, more in control of myself and who I'd like to be.

People noticed, but they don't really understand my plight and here is why...

I hear these Bitches at work always talking about how they need to lose weight and they're tired of feeling bloated.  They ask me why I'm not drinking and as soon as I tell the why, they immediately project it onto themselves. "Oh, I should do that.  I really need to lose weight."

They say it time and time again and in many different ways.

What they don't understand is that this is who I am, I'm not looking for a quick fix to lose a quick 10 pounds.  I'm not trying to fit into a dress, or impress a man.  Or catch one for that matter.  Fuck that, when I'm ready for him he better be able to keep up with me.

I'm doing this because I want to live.  I watched diabetes, kidney disease, and heart failure kill my mother.  I watched her slowly kill herself.  This is what America is doing, we are slowly killing ourselves.

I have to do this for myself, for my sister, and for my mother.  I want my mothers legacy to live on.  She can still be beautiful, strong, and proud through me.  She can do this through me because she made me.  These are things I don't think she ever felt for herself and when I see her again I want to make sure she saw everything through my eyes.  Because just as I saw her tears, she can see mine.

Today we overcooked a flatbread and we couldn't serve it.  A girl server walked in and said, "well you guys can eat it or but that Bitch up and we'll all eat it."  Then she said "Well, I can't eat it, I shouldn't at least."  She looked at me and she said "I'm on the wagon."
I was immediately insulted, but just smiled at her.  Then she said "I'm on water and diet pills."
I wanted to slap this Bitch.  But, I didn't.  I looked at her and said "diet pills are so bad for you."
She said, "yeah, but they give me lots of energy!"

She left, but I knew that wouldn't be the last of her.

She came back later.  She walked into the kitchen and said, "I'm hungry.  I need something to eat, but it has to be healthy.  Like, it can't be fattening, like I need to eat just plain chicken."

The chef and I just stared at her.  We didn't really know what she wanted, she never really said.
I know the effort it takes to eat well when you work in a restaurant.  So, I looked at her and said "Girl, you need to plan for this better."
She immediately got defensive and tried to explain why she had no time to eat or bring her own food to work.
She got mad after that and said "Forget it! I'll just go order food somewhere else."
I called after her and I said "Why don't you just order a salad and add chicken. I can make that for you if you want."

She said okay.  This was my way of trying to make her happy and help her out even though the bitch never really said what she wanted.

Her ticket for her salad came in minutes later and it read

Mixed Green
-ADD CHICKEN
-ADD BACON
-ADD AVOCADO
-VINI

Fucking Wow!  This girl didn't get it and she'll never get me.

This is a lifestyle. This is who I am and who I want to be.  Its a choice I made for myself to be a better version of myself.  This isn't me trying to find a quick fix for right now.  Its me, trying to live my life.

So, I said...Fuck her.  Fuck the look she gave me when she shot her "On the Wagon" comment at me and fuck her for thinking she knows how to do what I do.  She doesn't and may not ever.  And I really don't care, but it reinforced all the things in me that I though were lost never to be seen again.  I've found myself again and I'm going to hold on to it this time.

I'll hold onto it because it's older, wiser, and stronger.  It's me and who I always was.  I just had to get back to it.  My dream was always there and it never went away.  My journey isn't over yet.  I feel like I've only just begun.

So, maybe I am...

On the Wagon

Whatever, the only person I have to worry about falling off is me.

Love,
Lea

Beer-icle Grow

I've been quietly struggling for a long time.  Peacefully succeeding and painfully failing.
It's not any one's fault but its just what happens to us.
We climb, and we fall.  Some of us get back up and some of us just have to lay there for a bit.  I feel like I've been laying here for a while.
Is it time to get back up?
I don't know.
I know that I want to be okay, but its hard to fake this one.
Almost everything I loved is gone.
But nothing was as hard as watching my mother take her last breath.
Nothing really matters after that.  You just keep going because you have to, and that's what everyone wants you to do.
But fuck them, I am not okay.  I can't pretend to be anymore.
It's rare that I have any breakthroughs anymore, it seems impossible to feel anything anymore.

It seems impossible to do anything.
But the professionals keep telling me to find the light, look for some kind of hope.  They want me to find the value in my life and in myself.

This isn't a happy place for me.  In fact it may be the darkest its ever been.

I could lie, but I'm really fucking bad at it and the raw truth is better than any bullshit lie.

Writing this seems to be the only way I can be honest with people, and myself.  Writing this seems the best way to dig myself out of it and into something else.

Because sitting in the dark like this isn't any fun.

Well, the other day I had a small breakthrough.

I know I have issues, everyone does.  I know that dealing with the loss of my only parent is going to take a long time.  I know that getting back on the weight loss wagon is going to be tough.
All of these things aren't impossible, they were just things I didn't want to grow up and deal with.
I couldn't, I was barely hanging on.

I had had an extremely drunken escapade that ended badly and was talking with my therapist about it.
I'm not afraid to admit I'm crazy.  I've got a circle of friends who are just as crazy as I am and would tell me to run with it.

So I am.

What I'm not willing to do is to keep poisoning myself as a way to distract me from the feelings I have.
I know I have to deal with them and I think I'm finally ready.

As I said, I was talking to my therapist and I was telling her that I needed to clean up my life.  I needed to stop the extracurricular activities I was engaging in.

I told her that I thought I had a problem.  I was angry, sad, lost and stuck in the dark all at the same time.

She asked me why I though that.

I said "Because I can't keep up like this, I can't keep getting blacked out drunk and expect to get better.  I can't expect a plant to grow if I keep trying to water it with beer...or vodka actually for that matter!"

And as soon as I said I understood what was happening to me.  I had been sitting there for months in this office trying to figure why everything happened and why I had such a hard time dealing with everything.

I had been clouding up my own vision for a long time and I had to stop.  I had to grow up and face what was in front of me or drown in a haze.
That's the easy way out and I've never taken that road.

This wasn't meant to be funny, but it was meant to be liberating.  I am not exclusive to these problems, we all deal with them.

I just deal with mine out loud.
And the sound of my fingers hitting keys is soothing.

The poison in my life has been long gone, and I had to let it go.
My mother is never coming back, but people tell me I'll see her again.
I see her when I look in the mirror.
I haven't forgot what a treadmill looks like or how it works, I just have to reintroduce myself.
Drinking doesn't solve my problems, it seems to only make them worse.
I will cook again, and I'll never forget how to use my knives.

There is a light, I see it, and I know that things will get better.

The sun is shining in the west.

I've said it many times to many people...This is just a moment, it won't last forever.

And I know that there is no such thing as...

Beer-icle Grow

Love
Lea

Meatloafed...

A while ago I saw an old friend. She said something very important to me that night, she said "You're different, you seem...not like the old you I used to remember. You used to have this fire and spark that I admired about you so much. What's happened to you?"

I didn't know what to tell her. So much had changed since the last time I saw her and I really didn't know where to start. I could have spilled my guts and told her the truth but honestly, I didn't know what the truth was anymore.

I looked at her and I said "I guess I'm just tired."

That was true, I was tired. I had been in a battle so long with myself, my friends, my job and food that everything had exhausted me and I was running out of steam.

I really did do the best I could for a long time, but I could feel the bend and I knew that I would break eventually.

I didn't know who I was anymore. I probably over thought about this for a long time, but I had too. I wanted to know why it bothered me so much.

Day in and day out the same things over and over again. I was praying for an explosion. Being too good for too long is never a good thing for me and I still haven't learned how to handle it yet.

The yogis keep telling me it's about balance and the devil told me not to give a fuck, we might as well have a good time.

Fuck the yogis and fuck the Devil.

They don't know shit about me.

So, I threw caution to the wind and let it all blow up. I felt like I was running into the same wall over and over again so I figured the only way through it was to blow it up and start over.

I needed a break, I needed some time away. I needed to figure out a new plan, the old plan wasn't working anymore and I really didn't know who I was anymore.

I can fight temptation all I want, but sometimes I can't win. I have to give in.

I had been following a strict diet plan for so long that I felt horrible about everything I ate. I had abstained from a lot of things that were bad for me, or might open a door towards temptation.

This includes alcohol, drugs, men and bad food.

All things I love.

I had been sad for a long time and I couldn't really shake it. I hadn't really tried either though, but I knew the sadness would eventually subside and I would really want to shake it off. I knew I would come up with a new plan and I would get back on track when I was ready.

Until then I finally realized the one thing I needed the most. I could eat all the bad food I wanted and drink like a fish but until I got what I actually wanted I wouldn't feel satisfied.

And sometimes you just gotta give into temptation, and I was hungry for one thing...

Meatloaf.

I don't know why, but I love it. I hardly ever eat it, and its total comfort food but I wanted it, bad.

I wanted meat, I really needed MEAT.

Yes, exactly what you're thinking...I needed it.

I was at work the other day and I was talking to a co worker. It had been a long day and we usually say goodbye over an end of the day chat. I like these chats, they make me feel human. Sometimes they make me laugh, I haven't laughed or really smiled in a long time.
The only thing I could think of was...meatloaf.

I told him how bad I wanted meatloaf.

He said "You can have meatloaf, you can make it yourself and it's not that bad. You might even be able to use turkey!"

It had occurred to me that I had been denying myself red meat, and I really wanted some.
He was trying to type "meatloaf" into the search and he said "doh, meatloaf, not meatload."

We both laughed.

I laughed so hard that I almost peed my pants. I couldn't stop and I really couldn't stop thinking about it now. It was too funny.

He finally showed me his favorite recipe online and we printed it off.
The next day he asked me if I had had meatloaf.
I hadn't yet.
So the day after that, I had had it. I was done fighting it, I really needed to get meatloafed.

I came home from work and cleaned the kitchen thinking about meatloaf. I also thought about how I needed to get a "meatload". I can't help it, I'm human. I'm also honest.

I know it's simple and people have it all the time, but to me this time it was special.
I did it. I made it, and it was beautiful. It looked like it belonged in a magazine and it tasted even better than I have ever had or ever remembered.

I didn't binge, or gorge myself. It was perfect. The piece I cut for myself was just enough to leave me in bliss.

I know it wouldn't last forever but at least I would feel it for tonight and I can appreciate that now.

When I was done I felt like I was really ready go forward. I was ready to start to let go of all the past shit and figure out what to do next.

I had been praying for salvation and wishing for an answer, but I didn't know that I would get it until I got what I needed all along.

I needed to give into temptation and really, really get properly "meatloafed"

Love,
Trixie

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