Thursday, January 8, 2009

If it makes you gag - it's not a real snack

Choking down a lean cuisine is the last thing I want to be doing right now.

Today has been a weird day. It started when I arrived at the dermatologist to find out the nurse who usually helps with my tattoo removal procedure was off today (office staff apparently ignored the note on my chart that says, “If no Karen, call to reschedule.") Karen is the only reason I have been able to survive these 9+ god awful singe sessions. The doctor is a total jerk mamma and if he had his way, I’d have no anesthetic or epidermis to speak of. This is where Karen [insert halo and choir] comes in. Being the self proclaimed wuss that I am, I have her shoot me up with a double dose of the numbing juice. One time a first year resident was observing my procedure and the conversation went like this.

Resident: You’re brave.
Me: Huh?
Resident: The last guy that was in here screamed like a baby. I could hear him all the way down the hall.
Me: I’m numb. He could blast my foot with a blow torch and it wouldn’t faze me.
Resident: Oh, that’s nice.
Me: It’s included in the (reDONKculously, not covered by insurance) price.
Resident: Then I wonder why that guy didn’t request local anesthetic?
Karen: Because. He’s A GUY.

Once Doctor Antisocial comes in, he barely acknowledges my existence and spends ONE (I shit you not, one) minute blasting away at Tweety and exits the room. Karen slathers on the Aquaphor (Ahh, so my favorite product, it’s like Tussin’ for your skin parts) and a second-skin gel patch that is cool on my wound and then bandages it up all nice so I can go to work without an oozy, bleedy mess.

Not!Today! After Captain Dermadick was done blasting the hell out of it with the blow torch laser, he wiped it with a tissue and slapped a Band-Aid on it. A TISSUE?! OUCH! SIR, ihateyou.ihateyou.ihateyou.ihateyou. I'm telling Karen.

Now you see how bad I want this tattoo gone. I’ll post pictures when scab won’t make your stomach turn.


I didn’t mention that I’m on the South Beach Diet. Phase 1. I didn’t mention it because I don’t believe in losing weight as a New Year’s resolution. I think it’s stupid to only get your eat-right-fitness on in January. But the 15 lbs I gained back after the wedding are starting to annoy me (14 of them are a real pain in my ass). So my daily intake looks like this:

Breakfast: two pieces of turkey bacon, a fried egg and a mug of lemon tea
Snack 1: Cheese stick and 30 pistachio nuts
Lunch: The only carb-free lean cuisine I could find: Chicken Florentine
Snack 2: 8 celery sticks and one wedge of laughing cow light cheese (of course the cows are laughing, this snack is douche!)
Snack 3: (before the gym): Cottage cheese cup and 7 cherry tomatoes
Dinner: MEATBALLS! Broccoli and cauliflower.
Dessert: Sugar Free Jell-O (seriously, why bother.)
Water. Water. and Water.

The End.

P.S. Phase 1 makes me dream of stacking up 15 iced jelly donuts, licking the tiny red buttholes first, and stuffing the suggary goodness down my gabber until every last crumb is gone.

But, I refrain. Mostly, because that's how I gained the 15 lbs in the first place.
(In Phase 2 I get to eat yogurt so the cravings are pretty much gone. SIKE!)

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