And now I can add Master of My Domain to my Resume

Did you know Pirates took my blog hostage?

Supposedly my blog was traveling around Africa sometime late last week and the Pirates captured, held my blog hostage, and demanded large amounts of chocolates before they would even talk about giving my blog back.

They were ruthless.

And, I was a mess because I threw out all the chocolates when I started my diet. Okay, that's a lie, I ATE all the chocolate before I started by diet...two hours before to be exact. So, I had nothing to offer the Pirates. So, my only option was to figure out how to take it back myself without any negotiating with the chocolate hungry Pirates!

When I first discovered my domain had expired without my knowledge I was totally bummed. Where was I going to talk about all my issues? The Park?

But, after a day or so I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Relief that I no longer had to be witty or charming on a semi-regular basis which, let's be honest, is never a regular thing around here anyway but the pressure to be witty and charming is always there...looming in the dark corners.

After the relief wore off the panic set in. Day 3 of no blog. Epic panic. A panic so fierce the last time I remember this kind of panic I had just realized the only way out of my pregnant state was to let the alien out through a teeny tiny hole. The panic was intense and it crippled my ability to think clearly (as did the rum last night that I can still taste but that is neither here nor there).

After the panic wore off, determination set in. Come hell or high water I was getting my domain back and I was going to make my blog work even if it killed me and cost me a puppy or two.

The days wore on and I still couldn't get it to work. This morning I had all but given up and decided I was the Internet's bitch when I figured, what the heck, I'll give it one more go.

And hell if didn't work.

Apparently the only thing I needed to do was tell Blogger that I messed things up and then Blogger was all, Oh now I see your Domain.

And I was all, Who's the bitch now?

I Blame My Mirror

If you've been hanging around my place for long it's no surprise that it seems I am always 10 pounds away from the perfect size.

In mid-January, I decided that enough was enough and this Summer I was going to dawn a Bikini if it killed me.

Flash forward to May 5th... Um...well.. I weigh exactly the same as the day I made that resolution thanks to a horrific bout with the stomach flu otherwise I'd probably be 7 pounds heavier.

Which is hilarious, really.

The number of hours I've wasted counting points, craving sweets and generally wishing and obsessing over things I was not allowed to have is insane.

But, remember today is May 5th which in "Bikini Season" is practically D-Day.

Thankfully I live in Seattle and "Bikini Season" doesn't actually start until after July 4th which is still a good 8 weeks away, so I'm still okay...I think.

Where by okay I really mean I need to get serious yesterday.

Which, no worries, I did. Get serious, I mean.

Yesterday I totally started the Atkins diet, again. I know, I know. All the weight will pile back on if I ever eat another french fry.

But.

But, the thing is I have this problem with sweets...if I even look at one all I ever do is want one. And with those diets that allow you a "treat" all I do all day long is obsess about which one I am going to have and by the end of the day I realize I've eaten 5 treats. Which is so not the point of a diet.

So, it's cold turkey on the treats and anything else that triggers those cravings because I have gone mad with treats and if I don't get a handle on the treat ingestion in this household we are all going to be craving Fried Snickers bars for breakfast (which honestly I've never had and the thought makes me gag but it's a slippery slope my friends and that's where my addiction is headed).

So, my plan is to do Phase One for 4 weeks and re-evaluate my situation. Which means if I have stuck to my guns I'll be needing a new bikini. If not, I'll need a Mumu with a side of fries.

I suppose if you look closely at this post it really means I should spend less time worrying about my weight and more time talking to a shrink about my body image issues. Although, I would totally bring in a photo to prove my body image issues are not in my head, just look at that picture it has rolls and everything and in my head I look nothing like that.

And he'd agree the problem is with my eyes. Oh, or better yet The Mirror.