So I never get to talk anymore on ObesityHelp – doesn’t matter what I say.  And all this over changing my handle to Pope Square Pants I.

I made a post to the following thread:  http://www.obesityhelp.com/morbidobesity/amosforums/wls_singles/postdetail/7981.html?vc=0  As I saw the other replies being pathetic and whiny over never finding that true love.  *rolls eyes*  Anyway my reply was smashing and simply a list defining love.  It’s just as much my fault for not saving it to my hard drive, because as sure as the sun will rise it never bloody showed up.

I worked hard on that; even had a deep conversation with my Dad about it.  I’d love to elaborate on it, however my mind races a mile a second and if I don’t quickly get my thoughts down on or recorded, I’m more than likely screwed.  Now if they do become recorded then it’s automatically erased in my brain to make room for new fodder and what not.

I’ve written the “Member Services” numerous times and even the gal who started the thread to no avail.  I hope they all die.

Oh by the way Obesityhelp.com makes at least 1.5 million from the surgeons who are listed with their site.  This amount doesn’t even include the income from advertising.  I have documented proof that they charge surgeons $997 a year for a premium membership and $847 quarterly for a forum membership.  A couple nights ago one of the “Member Services” posted about how you could help this site out by clicking on banner advertisements, shopping at their store or donating to the site.  Even though my posts never show I asked this question anyway: “Isn’t it also true you charge surgeons $997 a year for a premium membership and $847 quarterly for a forum membership?  And are plastic surgeons subject to the same fee?”  By morning the thread was gone.

So why dontcha wander on over there and ask ‘em about it.

My therapist’s dog Byron (a sweet ol Pekinese with spunk and a tude to match) passed away Wednesday.  She asked which one of us deserved the award for worse day ever.  I said that hands down the award went to her although I dunno if it’s something be happy about.

A moment of silence for sweet lil bug-eyed Byron.

My first driving lesson was death and carnage free.  Course we just drove around the rural streets of the neighborhood.  There were a few times where I completely spazzed out and put on the brakes where as the teacher said, “Ok, we need to get going now as this is incredibly dangerous."  At one point *gasp* I reached speeds of up to 30 miles an hour – my pants weren’t even wet afterwards.

I have trouble combining all the steps, ie: turn on signal, look at all the mirrors, check the blind spot then go.  There were a few times he had to slam on the brakes.  Still he was a very patient man and restrained from beating me with a heavy blunt object.  In turn I managed to steer the car more to the left so’s the plants wouldn’t scratch up his car.

In the very beginning I turn out of our driveway and, “Oh dear God!  It’s a UPS guy!”  Later on I became a bit more comfortable at passing cars and here came that UPS guy again.  “Oh no!  It’s that UPS guy again!”  I bet he’s saying, “Oh crap! It’s that gurl again!”

Halfway into the session he says, “Well we’re halfway done.”  

“Shit!  That’s all?”  So we parked and took a lil break.  I was considering wimpin out and going back home, instead after about five minutes I started the car again and proceeded.

I still can’t say for certain if I can do this, but I do have more confidence than before. *thumbsup*

After such a stressful day a gurl needs a snuggle from Ma then a nap.  I woke up from my nap to find Mother rolling around on the bathroom floor.  She wasn’t hurt, but had slipped off the bed.  Getting Mother off the floor is a trial indeed.  The weight factor is obvious, but she cannot get on her knees, not only that but they’re in very bad shape as of now and she can barely move ‘em, plus she has absolutely no upper body strength.

We managed a plethora of failures for about an hour.  I suggested 911 but she was too embarrassed and mortified and begged me not to.  I told her she was lucky I couldn’t drive yet as I’d hop in the car and just leave her there.  Finally we get Dad up and he jimmy-rigs a way to get her back on her feet.  What a Xanax filled day.  

The next day our housekeeper came over and we went through the dreaded Tupperware pantry.  Three full bags of Tupperware for the recycle bin and there’s still a ton of it.  I’m considering hiring out a hit man to off the person who invented this vile food keeping device.  Life in plastics is certainly not fantastic.

Yes Howard Keel my new pretend boyfriend of the week who also happens to be dead.  I was watching Kiss Me Kate last night, as ol’ Howard was serenading the unimpressed Kate I added, “Didn’t you check out my package?” And my goodness when that lad turned around in his tight tights; baby got back.

I also have another favorite show and this pretend boyfriend just happens to be living.  Joel McHale from The Soup; *tear* I love that show.

Oh I forgot to add this the other day: Now that Tiger Woods has won yet another Masters he can go home to his vacant eyed Swedish Barbie Doll of a wife and give her a nice poke while wearing all four green Masters’ jackets.

ME: Cries of joy fill throughout the world as we learn Britney Spears is indeed pregnant.

MOM: Well there’s another hairball in the gene pool.