If you click on the picture you can see the Weight Watchers sign near the top of this building. This is where I weigh in every Thursday morning and as of today, I’m down 17.4 lbs.

Put that in your cone and LICK IT Baskin Robbins!

Ha!

I decided to break up with my Top Nails boyfriend today. I needed to have my pink and white artificial solar nails filled again and I could not bear the thought of sitting across from him for an hour while he touched me with his clammy hands and tried to speak to me in Mandarin. I’m sure the tibia crushing sadist would have been there too, lurking by the pedicure chairs waiting to pounce on unsuspecting women with pain thresholds not nearly high enough to offset the misery she would likely inflict upon them.

I went to Elegant Nails instead. Unlike Top Nails, Elegant Nails did not have a single dude in the whole place. I’ve been to Elegant Nails before, with Trish and Wendy, and I’ve always had a good experience. It’s a little farther from my house, and busier than Top Nails, but it’s totally worth waiting a little while if you have to (there’s a reason they have a large clientele). I am sometimes the only customer at Top Nails.

The female nail technician who assisted me spoke excellent English and we were able to communicate with ease. Conversely, my Top Nails boyfriend likes to ask me questions and since I can’t understand him, I usually answer one of three ways: “uh-huh”, “yes”, or with an awkward giggle even though he probably just asked me my bra size and whether or not I like to watch pornos (36 C and occasionally).

The girl at Elegant Nails completed the nail fill in a speedy thirty-five minutes instead of the fifty minutes it takes my Top Nails boyfriend, thus proving that women are faster and more efficient than men at pretty much everything.

At Top Nails, I am forced to watch One Life to Live. At Elegant Nails, I was able to watch Ozzy Osbourne’s True Hollywood Story on E! This delighted me as I am a fan of Ozzy’s and used to love watching The Osbournes on MTV. I also live in a suburb of Des Moines and everyone knows Des Moines is where Ozzy bit the head off a bat in 1982 at Veterans Memorial Auditorium. Any mention of Des Moines that does not result in my city being ridiculed is good publicity in my book so I think I should support Ozzy whenever possible, even if it’s just by playing Crazy Train on my ipod or watching him on television.

She even trimmed my cuticles at Elegant Nails. I noticed she pulled the clippers out of a drawer and not, say, an autoclave, which probably means that sterilization guidelines weren’t totally adhered to but I don’t even care. I know it’s just a matter of time before I catch Ebola from one of these places so what the hell.

Overall, I had a very satisfactory customer experience. Elegant Nails will definitely be getting my business from now on.

Sorry Top Nails boyfriend. I’m just not that into you.

I kicked off the “all about Tracey” birthday weekend at the nail salon today.

When I walked in I saw that the tibia crushing sadist was already manhandling another woman so I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about spending my birthday on crutches.

I was in dire need of a pedicure because I never did get around to having one before Christmas and things were getting really scary south of my ankles.

When the kids were at their grandparent’s house over Christmas break, Dave and I drank a bunch of wine and were, well, let‘s just pretend we were watching TV in bed one night and my totally dry and crusty heel somehow got drug across the sheets while we were watching TV and the sound it made was so absolutely horrible yet hysterical that we had to stop watching TV for a minute because we were laughing so hard and then Dave wanted to start watching TV again right away but I would not let him until he agreed that pedicures were not a frivolous waste of his money but actually a necessary part of my grooming and since David really wanted to get back to watching TV RIGHT THAT INSTANT he agreed so now I get to go to Top Nails whenever I want. I didn’t get anything in writing but I know Dave wouldn’t like it if the TV refused to like, TURN ON some night so I’m not worried.

But the girl who did my pedicure today skipped the most important step by not scraping all the bad stuff off my heels. Sure, she did some serious buffing and used some sort of loofah but that’s it.

The only reason I go to the chopstick salon in the first place is because they use the razor blade thingy to scrape off anything undesirable they might find on my heels. I always make sure my head is buried in a magazine so I don’t have to actually see them doing it.

I should mention that I was too busy talking to Wendy on my cell phone to notice nothing was being scraped until it was too late. I have one of those scraper things at home but one time I used it on my heels and cut myself so bad that Dave doesn’t think I should use it ever again.

After the pedicure I moved on to having my fake fingernails filled. The only dude in the whole place was waiting for me. This makes four times in a row if anyone’s interested. Some horrible soap opera was blaring from the TV and since my Top Nails boyfriend and I don’t speak the same language, I tuned everything out and spaced off for an hour to kill time.

I’m glad I had my nails done. It really was relaxing and now I’m ready for the weekend. I wish my heels were a little smoother but I don’t think that’s going to keep me and Dave from watching a little TV tonight.

Today was my first Weight Watchers weigh in of 2009. I last weighed in on Christmas Eve day and even though I faithfully followed the program almost the entire month of December, I decided to take a hiatus from WW on December 27th when we shipped the offspring off to their grandparents for three days.

In the interest of not being totally inflexible and a huge buzz kill, I gave myself permission to skip counting points while the kids were gone because I knew Dave and I would be going out to dinner every night and I also knew we’d be drinking. Heavily. I tried to be careful about what I ate although I did have McDonald’s twice (necessary hangover remedy).

I got back on the program January 2nd and because I’m a lifetime member, and not required to weigh in weekly, I took advantage of this loophole and decided I’d weigh in only when I knew I’d undone any potential holiday damage.

As of today, I’ve lost another 2.8 lbs. since my last weigh in (10 lbs. total!) and I’ve gone down a whole pants size (I have a selection of jeans in about 4 different sizes so it was easy to grab a smaller pair – I call it going shopping in my closet. It doesn‘t require spending any money at the mall so Dave is a huge fan. If I keep this up I should be back in my 8th grade Gloria Vanderbilt’s in no time).

Because I allowed myself to indulge over the holidays, I’ve been alcohol free for almost two weeks now. Weight Watchers has something called the good health guidelines and one of them is to limit sugar and alcohol. I have no problem avoiding sugar but frankly alcohol is the only thing that makes dieting tolerable so I usually pretend I forgot about that part of the guideline. The wine I am so fond of takes a lot of my points and because I haven’t had any in forever, I actually had points left over this week.

I convinced Dave to watch the Sex and The City movie with me on pay per view Saturday night and even though a glass of red wine sounded really good and Dave had opened a bottle, I chose not to indulge. Clearly I drink when I WANT to and not because I HAVE to. However I started getting sick last weekend so I probably shouldn’t have let my antioxidant levels get so low. We’re having our neighbors over Saturday night so I should be able to get the levels back up where they should be.

I changed my weigh in day from Tuesday to Thursday so there would have been a different Weight Watchers leader had I stayed for the meeting. However, school is cancelled (again!) because of the weather and since both kids were with me, I had an excellent excuse for not staying for the meeting.

I’m curious to know who is in charge of television advertising at Weight Watchers. I saw a commercial the other day that stated Weight Watchers is NOT a diet (it totally is) and they have started showing this creepy little hunger monster that looks like a furry orange Sasquatch. It’s a tie in to their new momentum program which suggests filling foods to help you stay satisfied longer (wine is not on the filling foods list). I think the marketing people at Weight Watchers are all high and I want them to change their commercials immediately. Where the hell is the Duchess of York? I thought the commercials with her were very nice. I hope she hasn’t pulled a Kirstie Alley and exploded.

Anyway, I’ll keep doing what I’ve been doing. It hasn’t been too hard and I still got to enjoy the holidays. Once I get a good dose of antioxidants my cold will go away and I’ll get back to the gym. Something tells me there won’t be any leftover points this week.

Today was my 3rd Weight Watchers weigh in and I must be doing something right because I lost another 1.4 lbs. That makes 7.2 lbs. total lost in December (or as I like to refer to it, the month I usually put on 6). I didn’t want to stay for the meeting because I had PLENTY to do at home to get ready for the Christmas Eve dinner that Dave and I are hosting but Arlene was shaming someone into staying and I somehow got caught in the crossfire.

Today’s meeting was interactive which means that Arlene stood up in front (very festively dressed from head to toe) and asked us to yell out our favorite tips in various categories.

Category 1 was dining out. Everyone in the meeting was very worried about that one. Really? How about, don’t order fettuccine alfredo and cheesecake? Or, plan ahead, figure how much you can eat (and more importantly, how many glasses of wine you can have) and then go to the restaurant and DO THAT.

Category 2 was how to move more. Um, get off your ass? Get up? Get vertical? Put one foot in front of the other? GET IN YOUR CAR AND DRIVE IT TO THE GYM. Stop me anytime, I’ve got more and I can keep ‘em coming. I mean, do the people in the meeting really and truly need these tips or is Arlene just filling air space and we’re all too polite to tell her what a waste of time this is.

The final category was all about emotional eating. Arlene first asked who could tell her what feeling hungry felt like. How did we know when we were hungry? Are you fucking kidding me? If I can’t tell whether or not I’m hungry I am not intelligent enough to live on my own. Or reproduce. Apparently I was the only one that felt this was a completely unnecessary question because everyone else started saying things like, “my stomach growls.” Or “I feel weak and get a headache.” I understand that she was trying to help us differentiate between real and emotional hunger but I’m having a hard time believing anyone at the meeting couldn’t figure that out on his or her own.

Before anyone thinks I am being unfair, I understand that Weight Watchers is a program that was written for the masses. Some people may truly find these tips helpful. I am not one of them. My only problem is making sure not to eat MORE than the amount required to lose or maintain my weight.

I think the older members of Weight Watchers do find the meetings informative. The meeting I went to today is not the one I’ve been going to for the last two weeks but it was also chock full of old people. I commend these senior citizens for still giving a damn about their weight and being willing to exercise and follow a weight loss program.

When I’m their age I have no intention of watching what I eat or exercising. I plan on driving my golf cart from the front door of my retirement village condo to the bar and nail salon, even if they are only located 1/8 of a mile from my home. I will be wearing one of many velour elastic waist tracksuits and there will always be French silk pie and a cocktail within reach. In short, I will be letting myself go PERMANENTLY.

Until then, I will keep following the Weight Watchers program. If I can survive December on a diet, the rest of the year should be a cakewalk. In the meantime, I need to find another meeting. The one all the housewives are going to.

I went to the nail salon today to get my fake fingernails filled and all the dead skin scraped off my heels before Christmas. There were only 3 technicians working when I walked in, two women and one man. The girl behind the counter told me to sit down and since one of the women was plucking her eyebrows and the other one was talking on the phone you can probably guess who she sent over.

I hate having the guy do my nails and this is the 3rd time it’s happened at this salon. He doesn’t speak English and I don’t speak pot sticker so we basically spend the next 50 minutes in awkward silence while he holds my hands.

Today his Black and Decker super fast fingernail sander thingy cut my cuticle and I started bleeding. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the cooties that were probably entering my skin via the exposed germ superhighway and wondered once again why I keep taking my life into my own hands for the sake of vanity.

I really needed a pedicure, because my heels looked like those of a ninety year old woman plus I wanted to have my toenails painted with OPI’s I’m Not Really a Waitress because it’s red and sparkly and perfect for Christmas. But when the nail technician who was done plucking her eyebrows started walking toward me, I recognized her as the one that almost broke my tibia last summer during the “massage portion” of the pedicure. I still have a Pavlovian pain response when I see her so I decided I’d go to a different salon in a couple days where hopefully I can get a pedicure from someone who is not a sadist.

I put some Neosporin on my cuticle when I got home and prayed that gangrene would not set in. Maybe someday when I catch something worse than funky toenail I’ll quit going to the nail salon. But until then, mama’s still got some grooming to do.

I had my first weigh in at Weight Watchers and I’m proud to announce that there is now 3.8 lbs. less of me. I stayed within my points range and still had enough of my weekly points allowance left to use on an entire bottle of cabernet sauvignon, even though that SLIGHTLY exceeds the WW suggested alcohol consumption guidelines. Pffft, details.

I even attended the meeting again but that’s only because I ran into a friend of mine, who is a trainer for WW, and I was afraid she’d bust me if she saw me sneaking out after getting weighed. I still refused to put on a nametag.

Arlene was excited because she was going to explain the new plan to us at the meeting. It’s pretty much the same as the old plan. Then she started asking random people what they did that week that helped them be successful and this is exactly the reason I hate these meetings. No one needs to hear I passed up frosting out of a can or that I chose not to drink 5 cosmos in 2 hours like I did a couple weeks ago.

Oprah Winfrey talks openly about her weight struggles in the January issue of “O” magazine. She claims to have fallen off the wagon and now weighs 200 lbs. I guess Oprah likes to shove canned frosting into her pie hole too.

“I’m mad at myself,” Winfrey writes in an article provided to the Associated Press by Harpo Productions. “I look at my thinner self and think, how did I let this happen again?” She also blames her weight gain on her ongoing “thyroid problem” which caused her to “fear exercise.”

This I don’t understand. That Bob Greene guy basically lives with her and Stedman and she still can’t get off her ass to go to the gym? I manage to exercise 4-5 times a week and all I have is a 12-year-old Treadmill from Montgomery Ward and a Y membership.

Winfrey also writes that her goal is no longer to be thin; instead she wants to be strong, healthy, and fit.

Not me. I’m already healthy (and SUPER PREFERRED in case you’ve forgotten). I’m just vain and want to look good in my clothes. And if that means that I can’t eat frosting for a while? I don’t think it’ll kill me.

Recently I noticed that a lot of the clothes in my closet have mysteriously shrunk. At first I blamed our dryer but when I realized no one else in my house was complaining it became obvious that my clothes weren’t getting smaller. I was getting bigger. I didn’t want to confront the problem because I was pretty sure that would curtail my appetizer snarfing and cosmo guzzling. But I’m afraid nothing will fit by January 1st so maybe it would be prudent to get a head start on my New Year’s resolutions right now.

I walked in to the local Weight Watchers center. The program really does work if you follow it and I should know. I had great success with it in 2001. And 2005. And now hopefully 2008/9. Perhaps it is MAINTENANCE I need to get a handle on and then I would not have to visit the helpful staff at WW every 4 years.

I filled out a shitload of paperwork and got weighed. I really wanted to just leave because I have always found the WW meetings a big waste of time. I don’t like sitting around with a bunch of fatties talking about my feelings and I hate having to wear a stupid nametag. I much prefer going incognito and don’t even like to take my sunglasses off while I am there.

I decided to stay anyway because I had the time to burn and I wanted to see if anything had changed since the last time I’d been there.

Arlene was leading the meeting! Hey, she’s been there since 2001. And she hasn’t changed her presentation since then either. She’s pretty old and reminds me of a grandma but she’s very sweet and you can tell she genuinely wants to help people reach their weight loss goals. At the end of the meeting, Arlene reminded new members to stay after so she could explain the program to them in detail. Arlene, I could teach the program. Just because I’d RATHER enjoy a mountain of Kung Pao Shrimp from P.F. Chang’s instead of calculating the points value of every bite I shove into my pie hole does not mean I don’t know HOW to follow your program. It just means I chose not to.

After the meeting I met with Arlene. She was really nice to me and I shared some of my concerns with her about the program. I also made several suggestions on how Weight Watchers could make the Flex plan even better. I’m sure she forwarded them to the corporate headquarters after I left.

So, to recap:

Eating like a truck driver+drinking like a barfly= Troll

Following Weight Watchers+sweating my ass off at the gym=MILF

It really isn’t hard to choose when I think of it that way. Plus Tom and Amy are doing WW too so we can discuss the plan and support each other’s efforts while drinking straight vodka because we can’t afford any points on drink mixers. And that? Sounds like the kind of meeting I would like.