Week 76: up 1 pound (-61.0 pounds total!)

Hello everyone!  So good to see your lovely faces.  Kisses, smooches and hugs to you all…it’s a Monday morning lovefest!  Let’s start this week off right.

HMD’ers, I need to beg a moment of your time for some brutal honesty.  Got your coffee?  Ready?  Here goes.  This stuff that I’m doing, all this “changing my life” and “trying to become healthy” and “attempting to love myself” and “staying away from margaritas”, all this stuff is HARD!  Her Hotness is doing some hard stuff up in this piece!  Look at today’s results.  Seems pretty crappy, right?  Never a good thing to go up, right?  Well, a wise television theme song once said that you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and then you have the facts of life.  Here are the facts of my life as I see ‘em: I’m only human.  (I think.  Freakish flexibility aside, I’m pretty sure I’m not descended from aliens.  I’m, like, 80% totally sure.)  I have strengths (again, freakish flexibility) and I have weaknesses (again, those blasted margaritas!).  Sometimes I will rock your world.  (Karaoke, anyone?)  Sometimes I will not.  (Drunken karaoke, anyone?)  With me you must take the good (60 pounds lost, woo hoo!), you must take the bad (60 pounds lost…like 3 freaking months ago!), you must take them both.  I must take them both.  This journey is an absolute must, for just as the show that spawned that wise theme song once enjoyed the company of one George Clooney, so too shall I!!!  (George, didya read the part about the freakish flexibility?  Didya?!?)

I tell you all this because I have been putting myself through the ringer lately, and I’ve been keeping it from you.  I have fibbed about my weigh-ins once or twice these past few months.  I have been punishing myself with must do’s and should do’s and have to do’s…I’ve become a musterbator.  I don’t want to be a musterbator!  No more musterbating for me!  Musterbation weighs too heavy on one’s soul and sucks the joy out of one’s life.  (Except for the fact that it is totally fun to say musterbation!)

I wanted to come clean in the off chance that a few of you were actually reading this as an inspirational weight loss journal and not just using it as an excuse to see Hot Pics of Gerard Butler.  Speaking of:

You’re welcome.

Anyhoo, now that I have that off my chest, now that Talent and Ambition are unburdened and free, I want to let you know that today is Good Times Monday!  Wooo hooooo!!!  Things have been too heavy lately, and I ain’t heavy, I’m Her Hotness!  I’ve been trying too hard to be perfect for you kids, perfect for the rest of the world, perfect for myself.  But I’ve realized that perfection is for Nadia Comeneci, not me.  I don’t need to be perfect.  I just need to be better.  Make better choices, think better thoughts…this should be fun.  I want this to be fun!  Hard work, yes, but not drudgery.  Not misery.  Not bleh bleh with an extra helping of bleh.  Kids, I am an improv comedian at heart.  I do things best when I approach them with a sense of play.  Play!  Just that word, how much joy, how much fun immediately springs to mind!  THIS is what I want to recapture, this is what I want to bring back, this is what I intend to bring to my workouts, to my writing, to my everyday existence…the sense of adventure, the wide open space that is my future, the thrill of the unknown me that is coming closer, ever closer, to the surface.  The bouyancy and lightness of play, even talking about it here takes the pressure off, and when the pressure comes off the weight comes off, literally AND figuratively.  Let’s have some FUN ya’ll!!  Who’s with me?!  Who’s ready for some good times, good times? 

Another wise television theme song once said that if we’re lucky we got ‘em - good times.  Well hell, luck - I’m you’re lady tonight, cause we do indeed got ‘em - GOOD TIMES, GOOD TIMES!  Now go and have yourselves one kickass good week!  I will!

Hot Manspiration of the Week:  Kids, last week America changed and this week the change train hits Hot Man Diet at full speed.  Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for an historic hit of Hotness.  Gracing these pages for the first time ever - a Hot Womanspiration of the Week!!!  HMD’ers, I now have an idol (besides Nadia Comeneci).  I now have someone that I want to be like when I grow up.  Tina Fey, if I could Single White Female my way into your life I totally would because I think everything you do is brilliant, brilliant, brilliant!  Loved you on SNL.  (The show’s first female head writer, you go girl!)  Loved Mean Girls.  (LiLo owes any credibility she has as an actress to you.)  Love, love, love, can’t say love enough times to accurately convey how much I LOVE 30 Rock!!  Your Sarah Palin rocked my world, hell, it rocked everyone’s world!  And I’ve just spent a lovely afternoon enjoying Baby Mama, which was funnier than I expected and which featured the wonderfully Hot and woefully overlooked Greg Kinnear.  Greg, please do forgive me!  We shall meet again on these pages, you and I… 

Week 75:  I have no idea!  I’m not home, ya’ll.  I’m helping out a friend by dog-sitting, so I am scale-less.  I did okay this week, perhaps had a bit too much nervous pre-election and elated post-election hooch…in any event, I’ll report in next week, come hell or high water.  I promise! 

HMD’ers, our world has changed.  Our world has changed!  Thank God for that change!  On Tuesday the impossible became possible.  The extraordinary upended itself and became, ever so quickly, something that seemed perfectly (wonderfully!) ordinary.  And, most importantly of all, we did it together, challenging old assumptions and past beliefs that seemed permanently fixed and hoping above all hope that Hope would prevail.  Prevail it did, and whatsoever will come of his actual term(s) in office, whatever President-Elect Barack Obama is able or unable to implement, this much we know is true: Yes.  We.  CAN!

I’ve spoken to ya’ll a gajillion times about change, haven’t I?  Change is the hardest thing in the world sometimes, isn’t it?  It can be terrifying.  It can be agonizing.  For some of us, it is the last thing on earth we’d voluntarily do, yet for so many of us, myself included, it is an absolute must.  Change is an absolute must!  We must change, we must move forward, we must keep trying, we must keep trying, we must keep trying.  And when it gets too hard, when it seems too much, we must remember flagship moments like last Tuesday night, and we must remind ourselves that change is good!

All this is based on the assumption that the change you seek is for the better.  My entire life right now seems to revolve around my quest to change for the better.  And while that oftentimes leaves me feeling a bit adrift and constantly in flux, I know there is no other option.  Not if I want my life’s true happiness.  I have changed a TON over the past year and a half and man, has it been worth it!  But I’m at the point where serious change needs to occur again…I need to buckle down and FOCUS, not only about diet and exercise but about everything: money, my job, my career, my apartment even!  (I’ve been in the middle of a Design on a Dime-esque decoration project for, like, ever!  I have pictures that have been waiting in the wings for months for their close-up, only to be gathering dust on the floor.  So sad!)  I’ve been resisting this change like a stubborn, scared lil’ mo fo…is it possible that I have no more change left in me?  Seriously, stick a fork in me and tell me if I’m done!

Yeah, yeah I know…I’m SO not done.  Rather than be frustrated by that fact, I’m gonna take a cue from our country’s soon-to-be Commander in Hotness and I’m going to EMBRACE CHANGE.  I’m going to open my arms, my eyes, my mind, my heart…I’m going to dig my heels in, roll up my sleeves, get my hands all nice and dirty with WORK…I’m going to do it, I must do it, I WANT to do it, I await with breathless anticipation the results of my doing it…the time for change has come!  The time for change is here!  This is when I change!  Yes I can!  Yes I must!  Yes I will!

I am the Hotness I have been waiting for!!!

Hot Manspiration of the Week:  Duh!  Like I’d pick anyone else!  What could be more Manspiring than being the first African American elected President of our great land?  Ya’ll, I broke down in my polling booth!  I saw his name on that ballot, and my heart did a double take.  Don’t get me wrong - I would have voted for him regardless of his color!  But talk about the whipped cream on top of an already rocking hot fudge sundae!  Hello!  Add on good looks and the fact that the man knows how to wear a suit and BAM!  The highest office in the land is also now the Hottest…God bless America!   

*** Original Trifecta of Hotness Alert ***  Daniel Craig as Bond!  Opening this Friday!  At least one shirtless scene!  Who’s with me?  Manjoyment thy name is Bond, James Bond. 

Hot Man Diet is on Facebook!  Are you?  Join the Hot Man Diet group and bask in the glow of Manificence…we’re, like, the Hottest group out there!

Week 74: down 0 pounds (-62 pounds total!)

Hey kids, top o’ the morning to ya!  How was everyone’s Halloween?  More treats than tricks, I hope.  And holy extra hour of sleep - can we do it again this weekend?!

A quick check-in before we proceed to our Hotter purpose.  Many of you have expressed concern over last week’s outburst.  My mother was so moved as to offer me a Match.com subscription for Christmas.  Whaa?!  (I was really looking forward to what has become my annual present as of late - a Target gift card.  I loves me some Target, kids!  There’s nothing better than walking out of a store with an iPod, a throw pillow, two Yoplait Light n’ Fits, a hot pink satin trench coat and some toilet paper…you gotta love it!)  Fear not, HMD’ers.  Last week was indeed a bad showing for Her Hotness, but I was wrong, wrong, WRONG to state that Hot Manspiration was failing me!  I could flog myself for spewing such idiocy!  The issues I am dealing with right now are entirely of my own doing.  And let me state for the record - I may be down, but I am most definitely NOT out.  I’m in a bit of a rough patch, but this too shall pass.  Talent, Ambition and I will prevail!  We will.  I’m too smart and they’re too deserving.  They’re too deserving!! 

Let’s take a look at today’s Manificence.  Quality, all of them, superior quality.  Talented up the ying yang.  Successful as all get out.  Hot as a mo fo, yo.  And they’re working it, kids, these boys are working their tails off, striving, thriving, improving, working it!  How dare I accuse them of Manspiration-lessness?!  Flog me, peeps!  I deserve it. 

Flog me, Josh Lucas, you tall ass drink of yummy, blue eyed water.  Flog me with the Southern charm you displayed in Sweet Home Alabama (though the movie itself was a bit of a disaster, save for the Hottie Hotness of Lucas and the BRILLIANT supporting performance of my good friend Michael Snow, who I am sure does indeed want to flog me right now for mentioning him in this context.  Whatever.  Michael Snow also happens to be mothertrucking HOT, mmkay!)  Aaaah, Josh Lucas.  Those eyes.  Those arms.  That rascally smile.  You’re here at the request of K. from LA.  So I guess that means you have to flog both of us.  Lucky you.

Rufus Sewell, you ridonkulously Hot Bloke.  How, HOW have I gone this long without mentioning you?  Flog me, I deserve it!  And now you’ve joined Operation Overload Leah With Television Hottie Hotness - between you, Simon Baker and Joshua Jackson I am unable to focus on little else!  They tell me on IMDb that you originated the role of Septimus Hodge in Arcadia.  Well Rufus, I have seen that show twice, once in London and once in Atlanta, and NEITHER time was I treated to your Manificence (or anything even approaching your Manificence).  I shall be writing to both theaters tonight to request my money back.  I mean, the play is fantastic and well written and was well acted (both times), but I had no idea of the Hotness I was being denied!  Cruel, too cruel.  Someone at those theaters needs to be flogged.  By the way, you’re here at the request of E. from Sacramento, my host last weekend and a fellow Brit addict.

This last one is a request BY ME and is dedicated TO ME.  Actually, it is my way of extending an olive branch to Major League Baseball.  I treated baseball horribly this year.  I did not give it the love it deserved, because I could not look past the Keystone Cops-esque performance of my once glorious Yankees to see that 2008 was a helluva good time.  The Tampa Bay Rays took the world by storm.  (Special Note from Her Hotness - look up Tampa Bay’s Evan Longoria for a nice spot o’ Manjoyment.)  The Dodgers finally became the contenders they always shoulda been.  Chicago sent two teams to the playoffs, and Boston did NOT make it to the World Series.  Good times!  In the end the Phillies, the team that should be mine according to childhood geography, won it all for the first time since 1980.  And a Hot Man named Cole Hamels would lead them there…

Ah, Cole Hamels.  Flog me, I deserve it!  I deserve it for letting a season of the only pro sport I follow pass me by like so much tumbleweed.  While I was off not watching baseball, you were racking up some serious stats.  And in the post-season, man you were just on fire - 4-0 with a 1.80 ERA!  What the?!  No wonder, no wonder indeed that you were named World Series and NLCS MVP!  Cole Hamels, how, HOW could I be mad at baseball when it was overflowing with Manspiration of your ilk?!  Flog me, I deserve it.  And congratulations, you deserve it.  (Extra points for being limber enough to do this…makes a woman think some baaaad thoughts, ya know…) 

Dear baseball - I’m sorry!  Can you ever forgive me?!         

Week 73:  up .5 pound (-62 pounds total!)

Good evening, HMD’ers.  I know, I know…just call me Slacky Slacker, Mayor of Slacktown.  I’m sorry!  I took a quick weekend jaunt to lovely Sacramento, CA and got in way too late to put pen to paper pre-work.  I’m sorry!  I feel like I owe you all a fantastic, shimmering ode to Hotness, an epic work of effing brilliance, a virtuosic Manifesto of Mantacular proportions, a freaking Hottie Hot Hotfest!  And yet…

May I be frank, kids?  (Yes, Frank!) 

I am SO NOT IN THE MOOD!

I’m not!  I don’t wanna.  I can’t.  And you can’t make me!  Kids, I am not in the mood to discuss the thoughts crashing through my head right now because they are all over the place…I’m not in the mood to talk about me and vacations and food, a disastrous trio if e’er there were…I’m not in the mood to discuss the surprising amount of Hotness I uncovered (discovered?) in Sacramento, because it was truly a sight to behold…I’m REALLY not in the mood to discuss how this No Cal Hotness was quite depressing, actually, as every single specimen presented himself to me with his wagon already hitched to a less than deserving star (an observation based solely on looks and fashion sense and as seen through the less than objective and completely snarky eye of a ragingly jealous Los Angeleno singleton)…I don’t want to even get started (don’t get me started!) on the why-the-pardon my language-why-the-fuck-am-I-still-single conversation because it will undoubtedly make me seem “bitter” and ”angry” and “potentially homicidal”…and yes, I suppose this is the moment where Carrie Bradshaw would go to Bergdorf’s for another pair of Manolos but even Macy’s is too pricey for this gal and yes I’m broke (although aren’t we all?) and I am not in the mood to talk about that either!…and seriously, are you guys completely over my fanatical use of ellipses…I really wish that sometimes I could read my entries out loud for you guys cause I’m worried that I’m losing some of the funny in the translation from my head to your lips and now of course I’ve insulted your comedic timing but let’s face it, some people have good timing and some don’t and it is NOT a skill that can be taught, sorry guys…and I’m sitting in my apartment drinking decaf coffee when I am REALLY in the mood for a bottle of red wine…yes, I said bottle…I mean, when do I decide to throw in the towel…when do I give up and get cats and begin naming them after Jane Austen characters…Darcy…Willoughby…Knightly…and I’m still so pissed about the Yankees I can’t even FATHOM writing my promised World Series of Hotness, I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t do it…but seriously though, who does a girl have to sleep with around here to get a date, aaargh…Colonel Brandon…Captain Wentworth…and now I’m totally worried that ya’ll are gonna think that I’m really crazy and undateable…that’s my nickname at work - Leah the Undateable…it’s a long story…but my other nickname is Black Lightning and I like that one better…and, ugh, when do I actually get a job that utilizes my talents and skills…I am REALLY not in the mood to even think about that one, cause that one will seriously send this pot of Dunkin’ Decaf through the mothertrucking kitchen window and will have me reaching for the tequila, screw the wine, hand me the tequila…it’s failing me, ya’ll, it’s failing me…Hot Manspiration is failing me!…I’m not in the mood to keep busting my hump in order to lose my hump and make what is left of my rump more appealing to…to whom?…TO NO ONE!!!…I do not exaggerate…that is what I am honestly and truly not in the mood to discuss…because it hurts…it stings…I an NOT in the mood to discuss how very much I really am in the mood…not for sex, get your mind out of the gutter!…no, no, no…I am not in the mood to discuss how very much I really am in the mood…for love.

Aw crap.  Whatever.  I’m getting another cup of decaf.  Here’s a picture of some Hot Firemen.  

Week 73: down 2 pounds (-62.5 pounds total!)  Woo hoo! 

Hola people!  Happy Monday morning to ya’ll.  I am happy as a clam this (very) early a.m.  2 pounds down!  Woo hoooooo!!!  Plateau, thy name is no longer Leah.  OMFG!  WTF?  T.G.I.HOT!

So I realized something this week, kids.  After plunking down a good bit of my hard-earned paycheck on a haircut (finally!), a manicure (finally!) and an eyebrow wax (FINALLY!) I had an epiphany.  A revelation.  An awakening.  It’s hard to be a girl, ya’ll.  Really, really, really hard!  There’s so much to contend with…every time you turn around something needs to be plucked or tweezed or trimmed or shaved or painted or buffed or lasered or covered or concealed or lifted or separated or dyed or permed or straightened - ARGH!!  It’s enough to make one go running for the hills, the blissful freedom of the hairy, split-ended, Birkenstock clad hills!  The running of one’s body, the upkeep of it, the maintenance of it, it is a full time freaking job.  And I, for one, am OVER it!  I can’t keep it all straight.  At any given point in time there is something on my person that requires professional attention (and I’m not even referring to the voices in my head).  At no point in time do I EVER feel completely and utterly “done”.  The eyebrows might look fantastic, but don’t let me near a sleeveless blouse.  The hair might have been did, but don’t even glance at my feet.  Ladies - do ya feel me?  Or am I the only jacktard out there who cannot manage to keep this shite together?  And am I the only one whose pursestrings seem intent on sabotaging all pursuits of aesthetic happiness?  Speaking of, WHEN THE HELL DID REALLY GOOD BRAS BECOME SO EFFING EXPENSIVE?!?!?!?

(As you can well imagine, HMD’ers, Talent and Ambition are very hard to house.  My mother, who for many years spent a good deal of her hard-earned paycheck on the maintenance and upkeep of my rapidly expanding bustline, still contends with vicious glee that my breasts have teeth, otherwise HOW do I go through bras so voraciously?  My answer to this tit-ular slur is thus: there are just some jobs that are too much for cotton.  My bubs are among them.  But still, why so expensive?!?!)

Anyhoo, I bring all of this up only to say that last week was one those weeks where I just felt…unpretty.  I felt uncool, unattractive, unkempt and unnecessary.  The skin was rough, the hair (pre-cut) was rough, it was all just rough!  And I felt overwhelmed.  The part of ”girl” just felt way too demanding and had WAY too many close-ups.  I wanted to quit.  Give up.  Wanted to turn in my script and let the understudy take over.  Too hard, too hard, too hard….

And then Saturday morning I went for a walk.  And halfway through that walk I started to run.  You  heard me.  Run.  And my legs, my legs that desperately needed a good shave, my legs became beautiful to me because they were strong.  My thighs, my thighs that I have been battling since the onslaught of puberty, my thighs became beautiful to me because they were strong.  My arms, my arms that have been so neglected and ignored for most of my life, my arms became beautiful to me because they were strong.  And my heart, my heart that was pumping, thumping, beating fast and steady in my chest as I ran, my heart that was so fragile for so long until I changed everything so that it might have a chance to survive AND thrive, my heart that has been through so much but is ready for so much more, my heart became beautiful to me because it was STRONG.  And then it occurred to me - forgetting all of the outside worries, letting go of all of society’s expectations, how do I really, really feel about myself when I’m all alone, when there’s no one to judge but me, and when all there is to judge is the purest, clearest, most heartfelt version of Leah that can be gifted to the world?  How do I feel then?  Is it too hard?  Too demanding?  Too overwhelming?  No.  No.  Not at all.  Thank god, not at all.  It is simply thus: 

I am beautiful because I am strong.   

And then I smiled.  And I just kept running…

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  I’ve had some really random thoughts of Hotness this week, kids.  The weirdest Hot Men have been popping in and out of my thoughts, and in honor of my two pounds lost I bring you two of the Hottest.  First up we’ve got Josh Brolin.  He hosted SNL this week, though Sarah Palin stole ALL of his thunder.  (My vote for best SNL cameo actually goes to Mark Wahlbeg, a previous HMD HM of the W…if you have not seen the sublimely brilliant “Mark Wahlberg Talks to Animals” SNL sketch you must watch it immediately, as well as the hilarious follow-up two nights ago.  Awesome!)  Anyhoo, Josh Brolin is Hot, ya’ll!  He was in No Country For Old Men, he’s in W right now, and his step-mother is Barbra Streisand.  And he’s Hot.  Hot! 

Also on my mind lately, and this is really out of left field, is actor Bradley Cooper.  I’ve had a crush on this one since I was a slavish devotee of the first few seasons of Alias.  His face has been popping up on my tv screen in ads for the new Jim Carrey movie and I can’t stop thinking of him.  This dude is smoking Hot and super talented…why is he still second fiddle to the likes of Jim Carrey?  Not good.  Not good!  

And MAJOR HMD kudos to General Colin Powell!  A well deserved endorsement that is also perfectly timed.  Thank you, sir.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!