<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920</id><updated>2011-07-29T03:01:54.579-05:00</updated><category term='walking'/><category term='radio'/><category term='boyfriend'/><category term='Airport'/><category term='scale'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='customers'/><category term='injury'/><category term='pajama pants'/><category term='goals'/><category term='nutritional information'/><category term='popcorn'/><category term='calorie counting'/><category term='skinny latte'/><category term='diet pills'/><category term='pizza'/><category term='organic'/><category term='vitamins'/><category term='scale obsession'/><category term='cardio'/><category term='jillian michaels'/><category term='meditation'/><category term='lazy'/><category term='water'/><category term='running'/><category term='chocolate'/><category term='Engagement'/><category term='frankenfoods'/><category term='horrible day'/><category term='bob harper'/><category term='bad day'/><category term='coffee'/><category term='Minnesota'/><category term='podcasts'/><category term='restaurants'/><title type='text'>The Fluffy Girl</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>67</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-5081389815448880018</id><published>2010-09-22T06:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T06:50:08.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Earplugs Maybe Needed</title><content type='html'>In case anyone is curious out there, I am still rocking it. Just not blogging it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think anyone who fell in my radar type sphere of blogger land has moved on to other adventures right now, but in case you are still lurking out there... I am doing better then ever. And kind of want to shout it from the rooftops. Or the blogtops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shout shout shout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you have it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-5081389815448880018?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5081389815448880018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=5081389815448880018&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5081389815448880018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5081389815448880018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/09/earplugs-maybe-needed.html' title='Earplugs Maybe Needed'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-2451815562711250711</id><published>2010-04-10T23:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T23:43:21.285-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinese and Charts and Stickers, oh my!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Ate Chinese food today. So. Much. Chinese. Food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had tofu in it, which means it is healthy.. right? And you can't eat the egg drop soup without those crunchy fried chip things. Duh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, though, I did not go crazy. The meal was loaded with veggies, and they went light on the sauce. Plus I only ate half, and saved the rest for another day. On top of that, I ate this about mid afternoon, so it counted for both lunch and supper. Lupper. Sunch. Yuuuum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eight hours later and my stomach is still content. I am one happy lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to nerd-out about my chart again, but I am totally going to nerd out about my chart again. I love my chart! I love having it on my door. It is not in a little notebook that can get lost in the shuffle of my desk or "accidentally" left in a purse when I make a bag-swap. Nope. It is on my door- reminding me that if I do not follow through, I will have to stare at the evidence everyday- not just in the mirror, but on my door as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am staring fondly at my chart right now, and the progress that I have made in just over a week (coughplusthreeyearscough) and I feel great... but the chart is looking a little bland. All that black and white. I should have written in glittery gel pens or something. Maybe I can amp it up with some stickers. Not a lot makes me happier in this world than a good sticker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-2451815562711250711?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2451815562711250711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=2451815562711250711&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/2451815562711250711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/2451815562711250711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/chinese-and-charts-and-stickers-oh-my.html' title='Chinese and Charts and Stickers, oh my!'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-4623756866872996820</id><published>2010-04-09T07:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T07:44:51.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Survived</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am going to declare yesterday as a success. I was hungry all day. I rarely feel like that- nagging hunger no matter what I eat. But I stayed within my calorie limit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanted ice cream, ate sugar free jello. Felt satisfied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did not want to work out, but did. Was only 20-30 minutes, but it was something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am determined to have another fantastic weekend, in all aspects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-4623756866872996820?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4623756866872996820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=4623756866872996820&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/4623756866872996820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/4623756866872996820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/survived.html' title='Survived'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-6904414096259955613</id><published>2010-04-08T08:01:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T08:50:43.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday Weigh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Finally Thursday. One week sticking with the plan, nothing to scoff at these days. I have been strictly a "Tuesday Weigher" for the past three years. That happy day when I found my determination and started my journey was a Tuesday, and it just kind of suck. But last Thursday I felt that itch. You know that feeling. Maybe it is less of an itch and more of an interior monologue, voiced by the love child of James Earl Jones and Morgan Freeman: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's time, Amanda Lee. Put down the french fries. Toss the chocolate in the bin and pick up the free weights. Pull the stretch pants over your lumpy behind and start dancing. The time has come. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, who could ignore that itch-inducing voice of James Earl Freeman... Morgan Earl Jones... Either way, it caught me last Thursday and I decided not to store the voice in my pocket until Tuesday. I could not shush it, it had to be Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;My weight last Thursday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;190.0&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(how many times will I go through these dreaded 180s)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My weight this Thursday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;187.6 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(only 0.1 behind my weekly goal)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total overall lard lost:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;39.4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(hmm.. looks lower than it used to be.)&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that about wraps it up for me. I am out to take charge of another day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-6904414096259955613?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6904414096259955613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=6904414096259955613&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6904414096259955613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6904414096259955613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/thursday-weigh.html' title='Thursday Weigh'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-734045921250866526</id><published>2010-04-07T08:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T08:53:46.635-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Seventy Three</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Hello kiddos! It is going to be a gorgeous day. This Minnesota girl gets cranky when the temperature gets over 80- kind of a problem when you live in Texas. But today the high is 73! There is something about low to mid seventies that makes me giddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I will be posting my weight. My first scheduled weight post since I started the blog. Are you excited to know how much smaller my love handles are? We are shooting for an average of 2.5 pounds a week. I know I know, a little bit above the all holy "normal weight loss average." I was a weight watcher for a long time. But, bring it on extra half pound. I am going to go for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The catch? If I don't make it, I am not going to be wimpy and cry and give up. Who cares? So why not go for it and see what happens! Slow and steady will bring a lot of change in three months time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's mini-goal... No diet soda. Well, no soda of any kind, but nothing but the diet tempts me. This is going to be rough, folks, but I think I need to try and give it up. Why? Because I feel like I can't. Therefore, I must.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be Merry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-734045921250866526?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/734045921250866526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=734045921250866526&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/734045921250866526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/734045921250866526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/seventy-three.html' title='Seventy Three'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-1175844360652364591</id><published>2010-04-06T16:27:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T07:37:53.027-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chart Happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;" &gt;Two posts in as many days. I am a blogging superhero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now for more specifics on my recent focus shift. Remember when I said that I am simply scribbling my calories on a post-it throughout the day and then tossing it before bed? Well that is true, but there is a chart. Of course there is a chart. I live for weight-loss charts. But this one is simple. I am not logging all my food stats into some online program, and I am not trying to become an excel master. I printed off a little chart that takes me through the next three months and track my daily weight, exercise, and calories. Just the total calorie sum for the day. I am very happy with it! I also have a weekly goal, so I can see how I am doing over time. The chart hangs on the back of my door, a constant reminder of the goals I have. The reasonable goals. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;So that is all for today. I expect to be posting much more than I have been recently, so please check back! Also, I am going to post my weight on the blog once a week. So now you will know exactly how lumpy my ass is at all times. Full disclosure. I will be doing that each Thursday- the day that I have a weekly goal marked on my happy little chart. How's that for excitement. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Peace and love Pumpkins! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-1175844360652364591?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1175844360652364591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=1175844360652364591&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1175844360652364591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1175844360652364591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/chart-happy.html' title='Chart Happy'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-8356167465576863008</id><published>2010-04-05T08:41:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T07:37:28.585-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bollywood Baby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Apparently it does not get more hilarious than me trying to do a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B001V7YZBG/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_3?pf_rd_p=486539851&amp;amp;pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&amp;amp;pf_rd_t=201&amp;amp;pf_rd_i=B000JJ4DF0&amp;amp;pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&amp;amp;pf_rd_r=0GYF5ESDM21XDEV7SCMM"&gt;Bollywood Dance Workout&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;. For whatever reason, I figured that I would be a natural. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Seriously, Manda? Seriously? A natural at Bollywood dance? Are you forgetting how ridiculously hard you had to work to stay at the bottom of your dance group? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;(Yes, readers, I was a dancer for ten years. I was terrible. I was not pitiful only because I am musical- I've got the natural rhythm baby. But I do not have the dancing skills. My brain and body struggle to connect that quickly.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Anyway. I had been looking at these Bollywood workouts for months. I thought they would be a great addition to my little collection. You know, something for when I don't feel like screaming obscenities at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="http://www.amazon.com/Jillian-Michaels-Banish-Boost-Metabolism/dp/B001NFNFN0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=dvd&amp;amp;qid=1270475489&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;Jillian Michaels&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;. Well I found something different, alright. I love it. I bounce up and down and around in circles and try not to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror (I look ridiculous.) My abs probably get a bigger workout than anything else.. From all the laughing. But when I am done, I feel elated. Just what I need right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;And, in other news, Easter happened. How was yours? Didja survive? Hopefully so. Mister and I went to visit his parents. We both got giant Easter baskets.. full of candy. SABOTAGE! But, there were also some Anne's organic crackers- thank goodness they make everything look like bunnies! So I ate more than I planned, but less than I might have a few weeks ago, a few months ago, a few years ago. And today I weighed the same as yesterday- I'll take it. I had mister kidnap all of the candy so it won't be there to tempt me, and I am pressing on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Thanks for sticking with me. Please to kick my ass next time I abandon my mission? Stay the course! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-8356167465576863008?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8356167465576863008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=8356167465576863008&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/8356167465576863008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/8356167465576863008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/bollywood-baby.html' title='Bollywood Baby!'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-4504149294748795084</id><published>2010-04-03T11:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T11:59:46.931-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Exercise Junkie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Hey kids. I have been doing alright, on and off again. For the past couple of months I have been bouncing up and down between 180-190 pounds. It has become quite annoying, really. And then I had another one of my famous break downs the other day. It is totally impossible for me to hit that elusive "goal weight" by the wedding on June 26th, and I had this ridiculous notion that it was all or nothing... If I was not going to be perfect looking that day, then who cares what I look like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crazy, I know. I don't really feel that way. I have come to my senses. I did not start all of this in 2007 for a wedding. I did not even know the Mister when I started! This has always been for me. My health. My quality of life.. The kind of life that I want to live. An active life. Walking, biking, swimming, hiking, camping, kickboxing, yoga.. You name it. I want it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dirty little secret? I have always sucked at exercise. Even in my stints as a weight-loss machine, I was hardly working out. DVDs off and on,  some walking, but never enough, and never for a very long period of time. I have just done it by eating well. Obviously that is one piece of the puzzle, but if I want this to be lasting I really need to work on being more active.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, for the first time, exercise is my main focus in this journey. Nothing unmanageable or confusing, just making sure to do something everyday. I am still counting calories, but not in any crazy meticulous programs. Just on a post-it throughout the day, so I don't forget. I write it down, get through the day, and chuck it in the bin at the end of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we press on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-4504149294748795084?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4504149294748795084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=4504149294748795084&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/4504149294748795084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/4504149294748795084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/exercise-junkie.html' title='Exercise Junkie'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-2353034687951514651</id><published>2010-03-09T08:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T08:47:49.915-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Carry On</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am eeking my way back to normalcy. I have managed to put on about 10 pounds in 3-4 weeks. As of this morning, I am up to 191.2. I know I should not be frustrated over a number, but I have managed to stay out of the 190s for such a long time now, and I let myself creep back in... Right when I was going to break into the 170s for the first time in years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am having a moment of regret. No the most helpful emotion, but more helpful than apathy. And now I am moving forward. Pressing on. Thanks for hanging in there with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-2353034687951514651?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2353034687951514651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=2353034687951514651&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/2353034687951514651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/2353034687951514651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/03/carry-on.html' title='Carry On'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-979596646592296439</id><published>2010-03-03T10:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T10:32:47.752-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in Minnesota</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;It has been a long three weeks. Grandpa passed away on Sunday, so I am back in Minnesota. Right now I am sitting under the covers in a hotel bed, greasy from yesterday's travel day and too long without a shower. My face is sprouting several new pimples, and I must be 5-10 pounds heavier than when I was in Minnesota three weeks ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But right now all I really care about is that my Mom is laying on the bed next to me, finally getting some sleep. I care that I saw my brother, Mr. Navy, last night for the first time in 14 months. I care that my Dad has puffy watery eyes. I care that my aunts and uncles and cousins are all here together. Overtaking a hotel that we have all called home at some point over the last month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have no place to go. Grandma died 14 years ago, and the farm was sold when Grandpa had to move into assistant living a few years ago. My mom and her siblings have already felt homeless, in a sense. Now they feel like orphans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to be strong for once. To take care of Mom instead of making her take care of me, and everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not very good at this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-979596646592296439?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/979596646592296439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=979596646592296439&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/979596646592296439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/979596646592296439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/03/back-in-minnesota.html' title='Back in Minnesota'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-2236479381974233846</id><published>2010-02-16T00:00:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T00:05:28.131-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Red Eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I came home this week so that I could go to class, but I did not go to class today. At all. I just stayed in bed and cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I retreated to Kevin's place and found some comfort there, and even laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I came home and have received a group message from friends in my ASL class about meeting up to study tomorrow. And the most recent message on the thread is jokingly chastising me for not being in class. Sent to the whole group. So now I feel pathetic for not going, and anxious about the amount of work I have to do. There is no time for catch up. I already feel so far behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel empty. Desperate for a distraction. And today, after a successful weekend.. Coping with my emotions in a more proper way- I found that distraction and comfort in food. Of course.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-2236479381974233846?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2236479381974233846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=2236479381974233846&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/2236479381974233846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/2236479381974233846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/02/red-eyes.html' title='Red Eyes'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-3442420761054952933</id><published>2010-02-15T14:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T14:16:31.865-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Back for now</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Had to come back to Texas yesterday evening. Hospice is coming to see my Grandpa today, and it will be only a matter of days. Maybe a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor says he is non responsive- but when my cousin and I told him an old joke he had with the three granddaughters, a huge smile went up his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when I was saying goodbye, just the two of us in the room, he cried. He can't talk. I don't know if he even knows who I am or what I am saying. But he cried. And then I left. The next time I see him will be at his funeral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is breaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-3442420761054952933?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3442420761054952933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=3442420761054952933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3442420761054952933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3442420761054952933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/02/back-for-now.html' title='Back for now'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-5998895796055727234</id><published>2010-02-12T03:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T03:27:42.962-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;My grandpa is going to die. I am flying to Minnesota today. Hard to pretend it is not happening when you are on your way there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-5998895796055727234?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5998895796055727234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=5998895796055727234&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5998895796055727234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5998895796055727234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-day.html' title='My day.'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-3328341532024103624</id><published>2010-02-09T10:35:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T11:28:11.955-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Confession time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been avoiding my "before photos." I have them, of course, but have been hesitant to share them. I always figured that I would share them when I met my goal weight- no sooner. And here I am, three years into my flub-fighting mission, and only halfway to my goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today I feel empowered. I am proud of how far I have come, and excited about where I am headed- no matter how long it takes to get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... Without further adieu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;Before Photos:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/S3GZzs8OVyI/AAAAAAAAADE/0nWkwkJ9A9M/s1600-h/n23913303_31131646_6086.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/S3GZzs8OVyI/AAAAAAAAADE/0nWkwkJ9A9M/s320/n23913303_31131646_6086.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436295338729035554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Getting close to my highest weight...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/S3GYOAFXf5I/AAAAAAAAACs/57vCmrdQKLQ/s1600-h/n17214415_33863273_9065.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/S3GYOAFXf5I/AAAAAAAAACs/57vCmrdQKLQ/s320/n17214415_33863273_9065.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436293591521001362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;I had actually lost about 20 pounds here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/S3GYOajfbSI/AAAAAAAAAC0/H4I-GVYtSUQ/s1600-h/n107600007_30001995_2562.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/S3GYOajfbSI/AAAAAAAAAC0/H4I-GVYtSUQ/s320/n107600007_30001995_2562.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436293598626671906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" &gt;The weight was packing on. Cringe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not As Before Photos:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/S3GYN9QzNUI/AAAAAAAAACk/Ygd9cyo1lr8/s1600-h/FallandWiter08+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/S3GYN9QzNUI/AAAAAAAAACk/Ygd9cyo1lr8/s320/FallandWiter08+044.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436293590763648322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;My best friend, and inspiration: Anna the Marathon Runner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/S3GYNvIeFKI/AAAAAAAAACc/BOdP5KsP-4A/s1600-h/14443_1258790596064_1418620351_745473_7526_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/S3GYNvIeFKI/AAAAAAAAACc/BOdP5KsP-4A/s320/14443_1258790596064_1418620351_745473_7526_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436293586970612898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Looking more svelte at my third Breast Cancer 3Day with my ladies!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;So there you have it. I will take some proper comparison shots at some point, but you get the idea. And if you can't possibly wait to see more of my lovely face, you can always glance back at the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: courier new;" href="http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/11/sampling-of-engagement-photos.html"&gt;engagement photos! &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-3328341532024103624?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3328341532024103624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=3328341532024103624&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3328341532024103624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3328341532024103624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/02/finally-photos.html' title='Finally Photos'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/S3GZzs8OVyI/AAAAAAAAADE/0nWkwkJ9A9M/s72-c/n23913303_31131646_6086.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-6232240742062919048</id><published>2010-02-08T22:59:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T11:41:32.750-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ughhhh.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;If you are what you eat, then today I was:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;A bagel with honey almond cream cheese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;A Reese's Christmas Tree (about the size of a regular tree)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Oneish serving of stale tortilla chips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;A store brand Nutri-Grain bar (my fruit for the day, apparently)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Several large handfuls of Cheez-Its&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Four chewy valentines mints&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Lots of coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Diet Coke (love that aspartame)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Monday hates me. And now my stomach hates me, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;refuse &lt;/span&gt;to hate myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Housekeeping: I was just notified that my comments feature has not been working- for quite some time apparently. Whoops. Comment option has been restored.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carry on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-6232240742062919048?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6232240742062919048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=6232240742062919048&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6232240742062919048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6232240742062919048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/02/ughhhh.html' title='Ughhhh.'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-6960811970295564035</id><published>2010-02-02T12:59:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T13:09:06.098-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Breakdown Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Had a little breakdown last night. Okay, a ridiculous breakdown. I literally fell to the ground on my knees and yelled when I realized that I had accidentally eaten a half cup instead of a quarter cup of rice with dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I had REALLY been looking forward to some almonds after class, but the extra rice put me at the top of my daily limit. In case you didn't catch it before, I will repeat myself. I literally fell onto my knees, yelling and crying, and held my head in my hands curled up on the floor. The floor of my fiance's apartment. While he sat 10 feet away watching me. Then I continued to freak out and would not let him talk to me about it for an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I did let him talk to me eventually. I even listened. Really listened- he broke through all of my stubbornness. I have been struggling so much the past few months, even on my good days, but I feel different today. Perhaps it is not so bad after all, letting the blockade down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to the people who love us in our worst moments, and the people who will read about them without judgment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-6960811970295564035?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6960811970295564035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=6960811970295564035&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6960811970295564035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6960811970295564035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/02/breakdown-baby.html' title='Breakdown Baby'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-597269012790824751</id><published>2010-01-31T11:10:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T11:14:38.325-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding a Balance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Still Kicking. Very busy with school (last semester!) And work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to figure out how to be healthy/lose weight while having a life. I get so obsessive with weight loss that other things tend to suffer while I am on a roll, particularly the amount of fun I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But last night I went to a bar with a bunch of hippie cyclists. I had a drink, listened to two rock bands followed by a Mariachi band (hilarious and fantastic), and had a generally amazing time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I still lost a pound today. Wabam!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-597269012790824751?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/597269012790824751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=597269012790824751&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/597269012790824751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/597269012790824751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/01/finding-balance.html' title='Finding a Balance'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-3252669308003404843</id><published>2010-01-11T14:26:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T14:33:54.376-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Checking In.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am alive, and well. Just enjoying every second of the break from school with the Mister. I am also finding the focus, in my own unique way, which involves obsessing over nutrition books and articles and doing a variety of new workouts. It usually takes me a couple of weeks to hit my stride- to make it feel like second nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just being a little selfish with my time and my thoughts right now, so that I can enter the new (and last) semester entrenched in my good set of habits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think too hard when I am blogging- about what is worthy of being shared, and how to say it. I worry about being judged, just like I do in my regular life. So right now I am just writing in my journal every night. It is candid and raw, and that is what I need right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-3252669308003404843?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3252669308003404843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=3252669308003404843&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3252669308003404843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3252669308003404843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2010/01/checking-in.html' title='Checking In.'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-7028119699760102720</id><published>2009-12-17T13:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T13:50:55.631-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Done Yet?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I read over 50 novels this semester. I have one final left- an essay final. I am going to have to go to the classroom tonight and, in two hours, attempt to regurgitate what I have learned about American literature since 1966 in two essays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read the novels, I participate in class, I attempt to be insightful. This should be a breeze, yes? No. Everything is melding together in my mind. Characters from British Immigrant Fiction are entering Cormac McCarthy's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;All the Pretty  Houses&lt;/span&gt;. And, honestly, the South Asian immigrants are not fairing so well with the would-be cowboys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read the 12 possible prompts and have plenty to say, but not only within the realm of the class. For this class I have written a short essay on every novel, two long papers, one super long paper, and taken a quiz every week. Is it really not clear yet that I have a grasp on the material? Is this necessary?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-7028119699760102720?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7028119699760102720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=7028119699760102720&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/7028119699760102720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/7028119699760102720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/12/done-yet.html' title='Done Yet?'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-7124988763711191823</id><published>2009-12-16T14:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T14:35:43.149-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Helvetica, Pizza, and Wine. Oh My.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;One final left until my penultimate undergrad semester ends, and I am beginning to have those annoyingly optimistic feelings about Aught Ten. And those feelings turned into ideas scribbled in a notebook while I leisurely clean, do laundry, and listen to my favorite podcast: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.twofitchicks.org/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Two Fit Chicks and a Microphone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am going to let the list simmer a bit and grow ridiculously long, and then I plan to post it for your collective amusement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, The Mister and I were planning to go for a walk. I love walking with him, especially this time of year. In the summer when we walk, I am always focused on working up a sweat and thinking about how firm my behind will be by Christmas. In the winter, however, I am much more content. I usually do not even change into workout clothes. Just jeans and sneakers and some ridiculous hat with a puff ball on the top that Texans do not understand. I daydream about snow and fireplaces and let him hold my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we did not take our walk last night. We strolled down the street to the Italian restaurant where we had our first date and ate large quantities of fabulous pizza. Then we strolled back home to "not our place" (The Mister's apartment) drank wine that had a Christmas Tree on the label, and watched the fantastic documentary film &lt;a href="http://www.helveticafilm.com/"&gt;Helvetica&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I will make my Christmas venture to Minnesota with 1/2 pound fluffier than I had hoped for, but it was all in the name of my favorite things (not raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.) And you know what? I doubt my family and friends will notice or care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers to Merry Days and Cozy Nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-7124988763711191823?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7124988763711191823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=7124988763711191823&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/7124988763711191823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/7124988763711191823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/12/helvetica-pizza-and-wine-oh-my.html' title='Helvetica, Pizza, and Wine. Oh My.'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-7284782558961244118</id><published>2009-12-13T09:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T10:00:19.833-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And it begins</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I love having family in town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't love that family usually comes with cinnamon rolls and donuts for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that the holiday temptations are in full swing. But I am off to a good start. Toasted Ezekiel bread with almond butter for breakfast. I am determined to not start giving in at all, because I tend to fall off the deep end pretty quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if I can get through the stress of the end of the semester (only 4 days left) without over-eating, I should be able to make it through anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-7284782558961244118?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7284782558961244118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=7284782558961244118&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/7284782558961244118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/7284782558961244118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/12/and-it-begins.html' title='And it begins'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-2824193849898610762</id><published>2009-12-08T14:45:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T14:49:27.782-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah Yeah Yeah(s) !</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I am happy to report that during this hectic pre-finals week, filled with papers and studying, I am succeeding! Last Wednesday I set myself some pretty specific goals to help get back into my old groove. And I found it, baby! I have lost 4 pounds this week, and have exercised 4 times! I was reluctant to give up my precious time to exercising instead of paper writing, but it has really curbed the stress!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all from me now... I will be back to normal posting in one week and two days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is good to be back! Why do we ever "leave" ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-2824193849898610762?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2824193849898610762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=2824193849898610762&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/2824193849898610762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/2824193849898610762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/12/yeah-yeah-yeahs.html' title='Yeah Yeah Yeah(s) !'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-3414000896311801738</id><published>2009-11-24T23:52:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T21:21:02.346-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sampling of the Engagement Photos!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SwzIjGHldmI/AAAAAAAAABo/7-lfdvSxenU/s1600/aandksplash.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SwzIjGHldmI/AAAAAAAAABo/7-lfdvSxenU/s400/aandksplash.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407917757828527714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Behold a sample splash page of our engagement photos! These make me happy and excited to see all of the photos... But also eager to actually get focused on my fitness goals. My pudge seems to jump right off of the page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is my big comeback going, you ask? Not great, but not terrible. Story of my life these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goals for now are: 1)start tracking all my food again and weighing in regularly. 2)stop neglecting my blog. 3)some sort of physical activity everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-3414000896311801738?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3414000896311801738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=3414000896311801738&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3414000896311801738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3414000896311801738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/11/sampling-of-engagement-photos.html' title='Sampling of the Engagement Photos!'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SwzIjGHldmI/AAAAAAAAABo/7-lfdvSxenU/s72-c/aandksplash.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-8360046862073980886</id><published>2009-11-14T23:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T23:21:40.283-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Comeback Kid</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am still alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Breast Cancer 3-Day was great, and I managed to raise all $2,300 before the big event. I can not believe we have been a part of it for three years. Amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom was here (for the walk) and we did some wedding business- twas great fun. I feel like I am actually planning a wedding now, finally. Trying on wedding dresses=hilarious. They are ridiculously heavy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of wedding dresses... I want a vintage gown. And I found THE PERFECT DRESS! Gorgeous. They pulled it out of some dusty back-room at a little private dress shop when I said that I was looking at vintage gowns. It is only $99 (woot) but it is too small (not woot.) Know what that means? I need to stop being so: Lethargic. Uncommitted. Lazy. Complacent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really really really trying to dig out of this giant rutty hole. I could use some help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Missed you.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-8360046862073980886?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8360046862073980886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=8360046862073980886&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/8360046862073980886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/8360046862073980886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/11/comeback-kid.html' title='Comeback Kid'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-3937715107772039007</id><published>2009-10-31T01:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T01:56:06.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Umm Yes. I think I am on the verge of a comeback.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-3937715107772039007?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3937715107772039007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=3937715107772039007&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3937715107772039007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3937715107772039007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/maybe.html' title='Maybe?'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-5728298860348390230</id><published>2009-10-19T18:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T18:32:11.262-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Friendly Reminder</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Dear Self:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because they are Vitamin C chews does not mean that the calories don't count. I thought you could use the reminder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours,&lt;br /&gt;Amanda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. This also applies to fiber chews, calcium chews, acidophilus chews, papaya extract... Basically anything that you are sampling at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-5728298860348390230?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5728298860348390230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=5728298860348390230&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5728298860348390230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5728298860348390230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/friendly-reminder.html' title='A Friendly Reminder'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-3168676661826765813</id><published>2009-10-18T09:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T09:30:27.938-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Garage Sale Kind of Day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Yesterday we had our big garage sale fundraiser for the Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk.. And we made $800! Amazing! Now, between the four of us, We only have about $1,600 left to raise. Love that feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not, however, love that the walk is only 3 weeks away and I have not been walking much. Yes, I did go out for a great walk on Thursday. But did I go Friday, when I had tons of free time? Nope. And did I go yesterday? Nope. Granted, the garage sale took up most of our day, and then I took an hour long nap before I headed into work for the rest of the night. But I could have walked during that hour and gotten an even bigger energy boost!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food yesterday was hilariously bad. My aunt made giant cinnamon rolls for breakfast. I had checked the NI the night before, and discovered that they were well over 400 calories. Yikes. I did not plan on having one until N&amp;amp;J, the Mister and I were all standing out side in the cold dark morning surrounded by the junk of our lives drinking coffee. I caved. But the good news? I only had one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after the cinnamon roll at 6:00 in the morning, I did not eat a single thing until lunch after the garage sale.. We did not eat until close to 2:00, and were starving! N&amp;amp;J ordered a pizza and not only did I eat it.. I had three pieces! Three! And was still hungry. That's what I get for not fueling my body every 4-5 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N and I had debated on getting frozen yogurt (not a bad choice) after the pizza, but we really did not want to drive all the way across town (this garage sale was seriously exhausting) so I suggested Sonic- which is right down the street. Why on earth would I suggest that? And then why wouldn't I just get a diet cherry limeade or something? Instead, we both got these mocha java chip ice cream drink things. They were AMAAAAAZING. But afterwords I felt SICK. Blech. My stomach seriously rebelled on my from all of the crappy foods, and I did not eat another thing the rest of the day (except for a biscuit before bed to get over the hungries and fall asleep.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, was my day a major fail? Nah. Seriously ridiculously bad choices, but I think I have one win amongst the fails. I did not continue to shovel food into my mouth the rest of the night. Sure the food I ate wasn't the best, but I did not let it push me over the cliff. I think I am going to put a check in the win column!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-3168676661826765813?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3168676661826765813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=3168676661826765813&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3168676661826765813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3168676661826765813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/garage-sale-kind-of-day.html' title='Garage Sale Kind of Day.'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-5499987010326944766</id><published>2009-10-16T10:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T11:01:55.672-05:00</updated><title type='text'>That's the way we spell...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Success! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning, I actually did get up at the still-dark-hour of six and went for a walk. I walked for an hour, and was keeping a pretty dern good pace- I went at least 4 miles. And this morning my body is a little sore. Seriously, body? It was a walk. You really can not handle an hour of power-walking seamlessly? I appreciate you not crying out in pain, but even the dull ache annoys me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness I finally got my flabby bum out the door and training again. Three weeks left until the Breast Cancer 3-Day walk. To be honest, I probably do not have enough time to be in tip-top shape. But I am going to fit in some sort of walk everyday until then, which should be enough to strengthen up my muscles a bit and toughen up my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not hit the pavement bright and early this morning, because it is my day off from work and class and I wanted to sleep in. But I think the Mister and I are going to go later today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eating has been great all week, and I even did a bit of exercise (rare for me with my insane schedule these days.) And, go figure, the fat is just sliding right off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-5499987010326944766?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5499987010326944766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=5499987010326944766&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5499987010326944766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5499987010326944766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/thats-way-we-spell.html' title='That&apos;s the way we spell...'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-6264689622670843360</id><published>2009-10-14T22:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T07:55:09.272-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Magic Pants</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Dear readers. I am still wearing most of the pants that I wore 43 pounds ago. In what way is this normal? Granted, my pants are quite baggy. A gentle tug would pull them down. But still, why do they fit at all? And, perhaps a better question, how terrible did they look on me at 227 pounds? Seriously. They should have fit. And they should not fit now. Perhaps they are magic pants? All of them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the weight-loss-gods are still looking out for me. They must know that I am lacking in funds. As much as the still-fitting pants annoy me, I am a pinch grateful, because I could honestly not even afford one new pair right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I should probably make an attempt at sleep, as I am getting my lazy bones out of bed when the clock strikes sixish. I have to walk 60 miles in less than 4 weeks- mayhaps I should do a wee bit of training.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-6264689622670843360?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6264689622670843360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=6264689622670843360&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6264689622670843360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6264689622670843360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/magic-pants.html' title='Magic Pants'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-6704124179327485889</id><published>2009-10-13T21:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T21:57:29.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weight-Loss-Gods.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;The weight-loss-gods smiled upon me yesterday. After a week of questionable eating (which including two trips to the state fair) I stepped on the scale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Less then a pound gain. Which came off the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, every time I falter for a while, the weight just falls off as soon as I get back on track. But I don't want to continue testing this theory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank you oh great and skinny weight-loss-gods. I lay many raw veggies on the floor beneath your chiseled bodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-6704124179327485889?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6704124179327485889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=6704124179327485889&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6704124179327485889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6704124179327485889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/weight-loss-gods.html' title='Weight-Loss-Gods.'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-5617074750030066886</id><published>2009-10-10T08:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T08:40:24.574-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I have had a terrible week, food-wise. And what started that? Going to the state fair last Sunday with the Mister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what are we doing tomorrow? Going to the state fair with his parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great. Really freaking great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-5617074750030066886?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5617074750030066886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=5617074750030066886&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5617074750030066886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5617074750030066886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/ugh.html' title='Ugh'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-594174305377455404</id><published>2009-10-08T23:59:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T00:11:20.399-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stress+Emotional Eating= Shameless Fundraising Tactics?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;So I am too stressed to even write about how stressed I am. And what does stress make me do? Eat. As in a huuuuge greasy slice of pizza, chicken nuggets and waffle fries, starbursts, a starbucks coffee energy drink... ICK! I feel disgusting. I thought I was past this. Well past all of this. All of this crap. But there it is folks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In happier news.. It is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, which is rocking. Although I am only 24% to the minimum fundraising requirement for the 3-Day walk, and it is only 29 days away.. Yikes. I always feel like the slacker teammate, even though I fundraise like crazy. My friends are all just young and broke, and don't realize that every single dollar actually makes a difference. Apparently they don't believe me when I say that there is no donation too small.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even their moral support would be appreciated, but apparently they are sick of hearing me talk about it (this is my third year doing the walk.) But I am not going to stop until there is a freaking cure for this freaking disease, even if I have to sell plasma to get the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that is what I will do tomorrow- go and sell my plasma in the name of breast cancer research and awareness. I am so emotional over the way this disease has affected my family, and I am so tired of hearing about it claiming the lives of women (and some men) all over the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose it would be appropriate to post the link to my &lt;a href="http://www.the3day.org/goto/amandaholman"&gt;3-Day fund-raising&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.the3day.org/goto/amandaholman"&gt; page&lt;/a&gt; again... I have more info about the walk there, plus a picture of my lovely team- The Tenacious Turtles. If you have an extra dollar or two, and have been looking for a place to donate during Breast Cancer Awareness month- I sure wouldn't mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you don't, that is okay do. I sure don't expect it. But I could use a pat on the back. And a hug. And maybe a tissue. And a drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one more time with that link. &lt;a href="http://www.the3day.org/goto/amandaholman"&gt;Save Second Base. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-594174305377455404?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/594174305377455404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=594174305377455404&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/594174305377455404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/594174305377455404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/stressemotional-eating-shameless.html' title='Stress+Emotional Eating= Shameless Fundraising Tactics?'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-5897391183211265062</id><published>2009-10-02T10:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T10:26:20.338-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big Four</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Weight loss is so confusing. I have this theory that I our body is reluctant to let go of fat that it has been clinging to for years, but is more willing to hand over recently added fat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what information did I use to develop this theory? Well clearly I have had some less-than-on-track days over the past month, it did not get too crazy, but four pounds did slowly creep back up (after many ups and downs within the month.) Anyway, this week I have been fully committed. My eating and tracking have been great, but most importantly- my clear focus and good frame of mind are back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guess what happened? I have lost all four of those re-gained pounds. Every last one of them. Since Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to be happy... but not trust this body of mine. It is very mischievous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-5897391183211265062?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5897391183211265062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=5897391183211265062&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5897391183211265062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5897391183211265062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/big-four.html' title='The Big Four'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-5304063712914945657</id><published>2009-09-30T23:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T23:54:21.074-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Breast Cancer 3Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Have I mentioned that I am a Breast Cancer 3Day Walker? Well, I am! In fact, this is my third year walking in this amazing event!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know how hard it is to train for a 60 mile walk and raise a minimum of $2,300 when you are a poor college student. And your friends are poor college students. And if people have an extra ten bucks, they are going to buy beer... Not save breasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it's hard, people. Seriously hard. Ridiculously Freaking Hard. Less then six weeks until the walk, and I am only 21% to my fundraising minimum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plan on writing more about why this is such an important cause to me tomorrow night (right now I am in the midst of a reading and paper-writing all-nighter.) But I figured I would start shamelessly linking my 3Day donation webpage onto my blog, in case anyone is curious about the event or even inclined to donate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... Go ahead. Help the Tenacious Turtles (my team) Save Second Base.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.the3day.org/goto/amandaholman" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;http://www.the3day.org/goto/amandaholman&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-5304063712914945657?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5304063712914945657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=5304063712914945657&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5304063712914945657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5304063712914945657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/breast-cancer-3day.html' title='Breast Cancer 3Day!'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-1201368633289641559</id><published>2009-09-28T21:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T21:57:57.718-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mister</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;When do you know that your emotions have spiraled out of control? When you start crying because the tiny alien who lives inside the human's head in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Men in Black&lt;/span&gt; dies... And you are not even watching the movie... You are just thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how do you know that you are the luckiest lady in the world? When your fiance does not laugh at your tears, but realizes they are coming from somewhere else. And he does not pry, yet still manages to open you up. And make you actually smile. And feel like yourself again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And somehow the next day you manage to lose 2 pounds regardless of the chocolate chip cookie. Obviously he has magical powers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let the flub-fighting resume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-1201368633289641559?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1201368633289641559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=1201368633289641559&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1201368633289641559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1201368633289641559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/mister.html' title='The Mister'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-499398579936980016</id><published>2009-09-27T00:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T00:48:46.075-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Success!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Sound the trumpets! I made it through the day successfully!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were mid-day and mid-night cravings for sweet things.. salty things... any things... But I pushed through. Finally!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose battling through the tough cravings again is the prize I pay for slacking off a bit the past few weeks. But I am going to stay focused and take them down!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-499398579936980016?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/499398579936980016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=499398579936980016&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/499398579936980016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/499398579936980016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/success.html' title='Success!'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-3563970972939695801</id><published>2009-09-26T12:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T12:24:22.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally Finally Finally</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I'm back bitches. Recently I have had a mixture of good and bad days- slowly getting worse and worse. I gave my recent creeping bad habits a glorious sendoff last night. The weather was gorgeous last night, and the future Mister took me out to a fabulous restaurant with an even more fabulous patio. I had a black bean burger and sweet potato fries (not the worse, not the best nutrition wise.) But I also had a Butter Beer- Harry Potter fans? It was right there on the drink menu- listed as the favorite drink of the wizarding world. And it was fan-freaking-flipping-tastic. There was whipped cream on the top, which sounds odd, but was amazing! I think it would be frighting to know how many calories were in that little number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of that does not sound too bad, I realize, but factor in: several cookies, cheese spread and crackers, microwave pizza, yogurt and chocolate chips, and a giant heaping of tortilla chips in the middle of the night- seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morning feeling the same. Still not caring. Seriously, I went into the kitchen first thing in the morning not craving anything, but just resigned to making poor decisions. There is not a whole lot of junk food around, so I dug through the cupboards and found myself about 2 seconds away from zapping a giant bag of buttery microwave popcorn. First thing in the morning. Gross! Then it hit me- just smack in the face- that it was starting all over again. And I am so happy with where I am at right now and where I am going, I really don't want to backpedal. So I had some toast and a tablespoon of reduced fat peanut butter with a cup of coffee- followed by a giant glass of water. Then I went walking for an hour, enjoying the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think (hope) that I have finally settled back into my groove. And I promise to stop hiding from my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-3563970972939695801?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3563970972939695801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=3563970972939695801&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3563970972939695801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3563970972939695801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/finally-finally-finally.html' title='Finally Finally Finally'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-7585002398666870388</id><published>2009-09-23T00:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T00:02:14.584-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fail</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am failing. Miserably. At everything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-7585002398666870388?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7585002398666870388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=7585002398666870388&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/7585002398666870388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/7585002398666870388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/fail.html' title='Fail'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-3419694592377009654</id><published>2009-09-22T01:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T01:05:52.479-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blech.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Up late reading/studying again. Maybe I would not have to pull an all nighter if the book I paid to have air-mailed to me would have arrived on time. But no. It did not. So here I am, with a copy that boyfriend and I managed to track down at a library. A copy that has not been checked out since 1968, which seriously depresses me. Even more than the fact that I freaking paid for expedited shipping and here I sit, with no book. Unable to make margin notes. It has been a rough week or so, school wise. I am a pot of coffee into my night, and oh so  starving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to self: when you are going to add an extra six hours onto your day by studying until ungodly hours- save some of those precious calories. You will be hungry. And cranky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-3419694592377009654?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3419694592377009654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=3419694592377009654&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3419694592377009654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3419694592377009654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/blech.html' title='Blech.'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-1604332080070391559</id><published>2009-09-13T23:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T23:43:58.135-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Capsule</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;It has been about twelve weeks since I finished reading Bob Harper's book &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Are You Ready? &lt;/span&gt;I followed every.single.step of the first section of the book, which involves the mental component of weight-loss. The "inner-compass" as he calls it. One element of that was a time capsule. Nothing too fancy, just answering some questions and sealing them away for twelve weeks. I also included a note to my future self, because I am just that nerdy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the envelope has been sitting in my desk drawer for the past three months. Technically I was not supposed to open it for another three days or so, but I justified my actions by imagining how busy I will be this next week. No harm done. How did it go? Honestly, it was revealing to read my thoughts from back in June. I have come so far. The girl who wrote that was by no means at the beginning of this journey- over two years of legwork were invested. But it really was amazing to see how different my thoughts are now. I was so hard on myself. So negative (but always trying to put a positive disguise on the negativity.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now? Well, now I am content. Most days. Most moments. I don't turn my head as I walk into the bathroom to avoid my own reflection. I don't put my makeup on using only the tiny mirror in my makeup bag. And, in reading the time capsule, I realized something truly significant. I can not remember the last time I put on an outfit, saw myself in the mirror, and tore it off in disgust. Most days of my life, getting ready in the morning has involved frustration and tears. I always said that I hated my clothes, but really I just hated how I looked in them. It may sound silly, but it has been very painful. It is not that my body looks perfect in everything now. Absolutely not. But the way I think has drastically changed. Those emotional fits are just a hazy memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, 185 pounds. The lightest I have been since high school. Comfortable in my own skin. And not only do I embrace the scale every morning, I do a little naked dance after- no matter what the number says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-1604332080070391559?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1604332080070391559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=1604332080070391559&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1604332080070391559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1604332080070391559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/time-capsule.html' title='Time Capsule'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-4834305487484920533</id><published>2009-09-10T19:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T19:55:06.309-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stomach Flu Monster</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Hurdles I have needed to jump this past month include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Move to N&amp;amp;Js (the aunt and uncle letting me board for free.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Vacation home to Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Engagement and week long post-engagement celebrations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And introducing the latest hurdle...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. TERRIBLE HORRIBLE NO GOOD VERY BAD &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;STOMACH FLU. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes friends, there is a reason for my recent absence- it is not simply becoming a bad habit for me to abandon the blogging world. I have been down since Sunday with the worst stomach flu of my life. But I am now sitting upright, and have food in my stomach. I think things are finally turning around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to hear something interesting? Yes? Numbers 1-3 on my little listy are all fantastic things, but were challenges to my current healthy lady mindset. Number 4, on the other hand, was awful. Yet it did nothing but strip the weight off me (although I definitely was not doing any form of healthy eating.) Tricksy life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just call them all hurdles. The first three I jumped over with the carefree energy of a kid in the playground (although I banged my toes a few times.) And the last one I just ran straight into. And then fell over on top of it. And realized it had spikes. Which impaled me. And then I was eaten by a stinky sweaty monster (the chubby dragon-like type.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's my story. I am officially re-entering society. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-4834305487484920533?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4834305487484920533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=4834305487484920533&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/4834305487484920533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/4834305487484920533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/stomach-flu-monster.html' title='Stomach Flu Monster'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-9004308222115965336</id><published>2009-09-04T14:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T14:39:29.025-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sadie Sadie (almost) Married Lady!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I have been engaged for a week, and am still as happy as a chubby little clam. It has been a week of celebrating- with much drinking and eating. Right after a week of vacation- with much drinking and eating. I know I mentioned this all in my last post, but seriously.. Things have been nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had serious amounts of trouble getting back into the swing of things. But today, for the first time since my vacation, I woke up feeling like my old self health-wise. So I stepped on the scale and noted my two pound gain. Meh- what's two pounds? Nuffin. Bring it on wedding dress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people would probably find power in a looming goal like this, but I tend to shrink back in the face of concrete weight-loss goals. But I am beyond thrilled about the engagement, and I am going to make it my goal to continue just as I have been. Slow and steady. Getting healthy. And I know I will feel and look wonderful on the big day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I have until next summer, even slow and steady progress will make a big impact in 10 months time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-9004308222115965336?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/9004308222115965336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=9004308222115965336&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/9004308222115965336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/9004308222115965336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/sadie-sadie-almost-married-lady.html' title='Sadie Sadie (almost) Married Lady!'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-6655138683819200440</id><published>2009-09-02T09:50:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T10:01:54.651-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Engagement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Minnesota'/><title type='text'>And I Return</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am still alive and kicking. Although I feel more like I am thrashing than kicking with a purpose these days. I realize that I stopped blogging mid-vacation, but I figured that would happen. I tend to abandon all of my normal daily routines when I go to Minnesota. So how did the trip end up? Not awful. I gave in and drank a lot of wine, and one night indulged in taco pizza with my mother.. plus a few other not-so-seller choices. But I didn't do anything terrible. It was vacation. And I only gained a pound, which came right back off within a couple of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am more concerned with how I am doing now. I have officially been back from the vacation for a week now, and I have yet to fall into my groove. I have not been tracking my food, and not really caring. And although I have by no means gone off the deep-end, I know my patterns, and I know where I am headed. I am trying not to be fearful. I just want to get back into my recent frame of mind. I need to find that strength in myself and excitement about healthy living again. If you have seen it- please ask it to call me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And amidst all of this post-vacation adjustment, I am dealing with impromptu parties and meals out with friends, and drinks with friends. Why? Well we have been celebrating an engagement, silly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My engagement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who shall henceforth be known as... Mister? Yes. I think Mister will do just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even have the ring to prove it, folks. So I have basically been floating in the clouds since last Friday. It has been amazing. But as I slowly float back down towards the ground, I wonder why the impending wedding dress has not kicked me into high gear already? Well, I guess I know. I have proven over and over again that some distant goal/event does not help me with weight loss. It eventually messes up my mind- I go crazy crunching numbers (and not doing actual crunches) and at some point it breaks me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's to remembering how to live healthy just for the sake of it. And me. And if nothing else, for my poor skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting married!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-6655138683819200440?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6655138683819200440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=6655138683819200440&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6655138683819200440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6655138683819200440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/and-i-return.html' title='And I Return'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-6885960130388850108</id><published>2009-08-22T10:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T19:56:03.833-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Minnesota'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><title type='text'>Minnesota: Day One</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;So yesterday was my first full day at home in Minnesota, and I survived. How well did I do, you ask? Well, I was not exactly the perfect little eating champion I had imagined. Seriously, I have been imagining it for a week. I saw myself swooping into my little hometown grocery store and searching for almond butter, organic veggies, fish (not to be all mixed together.) I pictured myself cooking healthy meals and feeling a little high-and-mighty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Well, I don't really like that elitist picture of myself. I am so so so not that way. I guess it's okay that things turned out a little differently. It has not been perfect. I did not spend transform into a gourmet organic chef overnight, and had no desire to spend my vacation scouring the grocery store shelves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;You are wondering what I did eat on the first day of my much-needed vacay. Well, I shall tell you. Keep in mind that my parents don't believe in keeping more then the bare essentials in the kitchen (a trait which I have inherited.) Breakfast was healthy trailmix- odd choice, but very filling. Lunch was interesting. Yesterday just so happened to be the annual Salad Luncheon fundraiser at my church. Lots of tight permed ladies munching on noodle salads and jello salads and tuna puffs. My mother and my second mother (her bestie lady friend) volunteered me to work. I spent a couple of hours clearing and resetting plates. I managed not to snack on any of the cookies lingering around, but my mom came up on her lunch break and we partook in the salad luncheon together. I had no idea how many calories I was taking in, and that freaked me out a bit. But I tried to make good choices, and keep the portions smaller. I don't think it was an epic failure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;And dinner? What dinner? I had a little more trailmix late in the afternoon and then Mom and I went up to the theatre and saw Inglorious Basterds (amaaaaazing) and we ate our traditional kiddie packs. Tiny little diet cokes, a child-sized serving of popcorn, and some candy all in a cute little cardboard tray. Not healthy, but not so tragic considering that was dinner. Although I could have probably done without the three beers at the bar after the movie. But we were being ladies about town, having a nightcap, and having a good time with the regular friday night crowd at our regular friday night place. And they were light beers- practically health food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;So maybe I wasn't a healthy eating champion, but I did not fall into old habits. There was no secret eating. No gorging on whatever I could find around the house. No snacking between my "meals." I really don't think the day was a failure. Plus: I put in 30 minutes of walk/run intervals on the treadmill, biked all over town, and hustled around bussing tables for 2 hours. I burned some calories, baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;And now it is time to change out of my pjs and see what day two has in store. So I raise my coffee cup and say cheers to everything in moderation! Off we go...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-6885960130388850108?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6885960130388850108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=6885960130388850108&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6885960130388850108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6885960130388850108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/minnesota-day-one.html' title='Minnesota: Day One'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-3839732057066571796</id><published>2009-08-21T09:49:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T19:55:43.163-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Minnesota'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Airport'/><title type='text'>Airport Delays</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am writing today from chilly Minnesota, after a long and frustrating day of travel yesterday. My flight was out at 5:30 pm, and boyfriend dropped me off super duper early. I was through check-in and security, chillaxing in the gate by 3:30. So, obviously, my flight was delayed. Twice. And then we had to circle for 20 minutes above Iowa before we finally landed in Minneapolis. Apparently there was construction on the runway in MSP- causing a huge backup. All of the ingredients for a dangerous day were there. Extra time at the airport, boredom, frustration- it was quite the test.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;But I came through strong! I did well initially in the airport, munching on the trail mix I had packed and sipping on some water. The first delay did not throw me off my groove. I just grabbed my bag, tuned my ipod to a zipping playlist, and power walked all the way across the incredibly long terminal. The walk ended at McDonalds, and my heart was pumping. I ordered a Grilled Chicken Caesar Salad (220 calories) and only used a touch of the dressing (50 calories tops.) It was tasty and satisfying, and left me feeling strong in my convictions. Then I power walked back to my gate, just in time to hear them announce the second delay. I used my second extra hour to book-it back down the terminal and peruse the bookstore. I was frustrated, and the bars were hard to resist, but I opted for water. The actual plane ride went well, too. I was not even tempted by the expensive (both in dollars and calories) snacks. I was quite content with my fruit leather.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;So I am finally home. My family and my puppy are happy, and so am I. Today is going to prove challenging as well, and possibly quite entertaining. I will keep the updates coming- I think it will be helpful to have somewhere to report to. Have a good day. Do some dancing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-3839732057066571796?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3839732057066571796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=3839732057066571796&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3839732057066571796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3839732057066571796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/airport-delays.html' title='Airport Delays'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-1621486842993020750</id><published>2009-08-19T22:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T22:53:57.288-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Minnesota'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><title type='text'>Trip Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Hello All! So tomorrow is day 60 of my current plan (eat healthy, write everything down, and move my lumpy booty around more.) And I figured there was no better way to celebrate these two months than by challenging myself. Epically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I am headed home to Minnesota (I have been living in Texas for the past 4ish years.) I have never ever ever managed to stay healthy and on track during visits home. Never. Not even during my days as a Weight Watcher Warrior. And now, in the midst of my life-changing success, I am headed home. Honestly, being there is my own personal weight-loss nightmare. It's not like I just wade in the shallow end of the slacker pool and neglect to track my food or something- no no. I jump in off the high dive. Burgers, fries, ice cream, wine (so much wine), movie theatre popcorn, etc. And, on top of all the poor choices, my bad habits from high-school tend to resurface. I will sit down and eat a sleeve of saltine crackers, followed by two packages of microwave pancakes, and a heaping plate of chips-and-cheese. Any random junk that I find in my parent's cupboards makes its way into my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, needless to say, I have been freaking out about this trip a little. A lot. I am going for a week! Yikes. Danger. But, as I have apparently decided to become some kind of annoying, optimistic, go-getter, I am headed home with a good plan. I have packed trail-mix and fruit leathers for the travel day tomorrow, to avoid going junk-food crazy in the airport tomorrow. I have also packed some workout clothes and DVDs- and I have made a plan of all the great outdoor workouts I can do in the beautiful Minnesota summer weather. On top of that, I have already thought of what to order at the small-towny restaurants that require a visit. And I have planned to swing through the grocery store my first day there to pick up some of my must-have foods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to mentally prepare myself. But really I am just trying not to Freak.Out. Yeah, I don't do so well out of my own little bubble. I guess it's time to expand the bubble and hope it doesn't burst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-1621486842993020750?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1621486842993020750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=1621486842993020750&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1621486842993020750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1621486842993020750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/trip-home.html' title='Trip Home'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-67076935036676685</id><published>2009-08-15T10:53:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T22:35:20.314-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Hello 180s!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;The scale and I had an interesting meeting this morning. I stepped on fully expecting it to be up from yesterday- as tomorrow should be the start of everyone's oh-so-favorite week of the month. I have not been weighing myself daily long enough to really know my body's gain/loss pattern during this time of the month, but I have been shooting up and down the 191 range all week, and I just thought it would spike today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I stepped on, more curious about what my body does then interested in seeing the number drop... 189.6! Seriously body, what is your deal? I have not been in the 180s in over five years, and if you decide to gain all of that crazy water weight and spike back up tomorrow- so help me.. .I won't pack any organic cookies or any almonds for the trip to Minnesota next Thursday. Don't mess with me, body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been focused on getting into the 180s for a long time, and I really did not expect it to today. I am so happy with my progress. Sure the numbers on the scale move slowly, and not always consistently, but I am making the best choices. Consistently. Everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-67076935036676685?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/67076935036676685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=67076935036676685&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/67076935036676685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/67076935036676685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-hello-180s.html' title='Why Hello 180s!'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-9175921414007320734</id><published>2009-08-12T23:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T23:06:39.599-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pajama pants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boyfriend'/><title type='text'>That's Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Tonight I fit comfortably into boyfriend's pajama pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuff said. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-9175921414007320734?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/9175921414007320734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=9175921414007320734&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/9175921414007320734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/9175921414007320734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/thats-right.html' title='That&apos;s Right'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-1715540575049056832</id><published>2009-08-10T22:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T22:43:02.788-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pizza'/><title type='text'>Day Fifty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I have officially been on-track for 50 days. Most have been a breeze, but life decided to throw rotting vegetables, rocks, baseballs, etc. at me today. Day fifty was so awful for some ridiculously boring/lame school-related reasons. It made me snarf up two pieces of pizza at lunch today, but luckily I regained my composure and just made the unplanned lunch fit into my day. Stupid day fifty. If I could curse you, I just might. You deserve a wrist-slap at the very least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, underneath all of my annoyance at a genuinely awful day, I am happy. This really is not just day fifty- I have been on this journey since the spring of 2007, but as you may know, it has been incredibly different for me this time around. I healed my inside first so that I could fix my outside. Really today was the fiftieth day of my healing process, and I am proud of how far I have come. For the first time in my life, giving into one of my biggest food temptations did not make me feel worthless and miserable, and it did not throw me off track. I handled it for what it was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just some freaking pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So huzzah for today, because why the hell not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thanks for being here... You are all seriously helping me make this change last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-1715540575049056832?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1715540575049056832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=1715540575049056832&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1715540575049056832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1715540575049056832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-fifty.html' title='Day Fifty'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-3521578414891690504</id><published>2009-08-09T15:03:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T15:12:51.053-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='podcasts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='running'/><title type='text'>Me? A Runner?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I was cranky yesterday after work (obviously) but I perked up. I am not sure how it happened, but I actually ran yesterday. And not away from a rabid animal or a vicious criminal. I laced up my kicks, took my 192 pounds, and hit the trail. Are you shocked? Not more than I was!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure what prompted me, really. Auntie and I had been planning on going for a walk, but at one point in the evening it sounded like she was going to have to bail out on me, so I started charging my ipod, determined to not miss the workout. While I was waiting for it to charge I puttered around looking at free podcasts and imagined myself working out with one of the walk/run interval timed bpm thingamajigs that I have always dreamed of doing (odd dream, I know.) And then there was no going back.. I downloaded it to my ipod and held onto my "why the hell not" attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the Auntie decided to walk with me, and we took the dogs for a stroll through park. It was lovely, but I knew I wanted more. I had my ipod in my pocket knowing that I would grab some water and go right back out, and I did! 30 minutes of fast walking/running intervals. It probably does not seem like much, but I am so far from a runner. I am the anti-runner. Plus I have not had a super great workout since my fall a month ago, but I survived!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I am headed out to the state park for a more scenic, hilly walking route, but I see more running in my future!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-3521578414891690504?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3521578414891690504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=3521578414891690504&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3521578414891690504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3521578414891690504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/me-runner.html' title='Me? A Runner?'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-5189330444266442100</id><published>2009-08-08T15:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T18:19:13.522-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vitamins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='customers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diet pills'/><title type='text'>I officially hate customers.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I am so tired of hawking diet pills at people, I could just scream. If someone wants to take something for more energy, and a little metabolism boosting action- I say sure. Go for it. Not my cup of tea, but who am I to judge? But everyday at work I have several people who come in asking for a diet pill that will make them lose weight without watching their diet or exercising. Seriously? Are there people out there who still honestly believe that there is a miracle pill. Would we not all be skinny if that existed!?! It's not gonna happen buddy. And I am not going to tell you that it will. I refuse to lie to people about this (even though I make money for every bottle I sell) I just can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And possibly what is even worse is people's caviler attitude toward diet products. Does no one research what they plan on putting into their bodies? I'm sorry, but if you don't know the difference between fat-burners and appetite suppressors, and refuse to listen as I explain that there is a difference- then get the eff out of my store. And if you have heart issues, maybe don't take something that will drastically raise your heart rate, mmkay? Just a thought. Just buy a freaking multi-vitamin, maybe some 100% protein and move your body a little in some sort of exerciseish manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't assume that I don't know what I'm talking about just because I am carrying some extra pounds. You don't know where I have been. And you have no idea the amount of nutrition/supplement information that I know. So go ahead.. Buy your dangerous fat burner even though you have heart-health issues. Let me know how that works out for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-5189330444266442100?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5189330444266442100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=5189330444266442100&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5189330444266442100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5189330444266442100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-officially-hate-customers.html' title='I officially hate customers.'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-7028619021963059610</id><published>2009-08-07T11:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T11:48:46.601-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='water'/><title type='text'>Just Dunk me in Water</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I just want to immerse myself in water and all of it's magical powers. After making my little list on Tuesday, I started taking my water intake seriously again. It is such a silly thing to get lax on- I just needed to make the choice, and it has really paid off over the last few days. I have more energy, no headaches, my appetite is decreased, the scale is moving down steadily, on and on and on. I know it is incredibly simple, but recently there were days when I would not drink any water at all! Ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How am I doing on everything else? Well, I have been strapping on my kicks and hitting the pavement this week (as walking is still the only thing my back can handle after the fall.) This morning I did a 6 mile walk, so lovely. I feel great! It feels good to get moving again now that my body is finally starting to recover. I just can't wait to start kickboxing and bicycling again, but for now I will content myself with some vigorous strolls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clean foods? Much better, but still need to work on it. Recently I had started grazing again, and although I was never going over my calorie max- I just do not want to get into old habits. So I am refocusing on the timing and content of my meals. Work in progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the diet soda? Epic fail. I made it through Wednesday without any, but I spent Thursday with Boyfriend and he had purchased a 12 pack of diet coke just for me to keep at his apartment! I suppose I could have just had one can, but I had two. I told him that I am trying to cut it out, so for now I will only drink it when I am at his apartment, and one can a day tops. And when that twelve pack is gone, I will make sure he does not buy anymore. He's so sweet, but it was such bad timing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there we are, friends. I did not simply make a list and forget about it. I am almost at day 50, and I am just trying to refocus myself. Always a good idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, it's time to make some lunch and enjoy &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You Are What You Eat&lt;/span&gt; on BBC America. Love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-7028619021963059610?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7028619021963059610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=7028619021963059610&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/7028619021963059610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/7028619021963059610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/just-dunk-me-in-water.html' title='Just Dunk me in Water'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-2949768303223443290</id><published>2009-08-04T21:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T22:06:04.349-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scale obsession'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frankenfoods'/><title type='text'>Ignore the scale and the Frankenfoods.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;The scale gods cursed me because I was getting too scale obsessed yesterday. Just glance at yesterday's post and you can see the obsession glimmering through the surface. I suppose it leaked in after being stuck at 193 for three days. Honestly, I woke up this morning with that same combination of jitters and nausea I used to get during my weekly WW (online) weigh-ins. I could not wait to hop on that scale and become acquainted with my new number. What was my punishment for this obsession? An inexplicable 0.6 lb gain this morning. I know it is simply normal daily fluctuations, and luckily the small gain forced me to laugh at myself and shed the number fixation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what could be an even more hilarious/odd detail about all of this? Yesterday I noticed that a pair of pants and a skirt from the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not-so-fat/has-not-fit-in-years&lt;/span&gt; section of my closet buttoned and zipped without the dreaded process of laying on the bed and sucking my gut in. And, one of my favorite button-up tunics no longer has an evil button gap over my ample chest! It just buttons straight down. Lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all of that, my brain still got caught up in the number game for a day. No more of that nonsense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have probably said this a lot recently (because I have been thinking it a lot) but I really need to focus on clean eating. Yes, I have stuck within my calorie range for the last 44 days, but I find myself become a little lazy in the actual food choices. I am reaching for processed/packaged Frankenfood junk more often that I care to admit. It is just so easy and available, especially now that I am shacking up at N&amp;amp;J's (my aunt and uncle's.) What am I going to do about this? Why, make a list of course. I live for lists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things to focus on for the next 44+ days:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Eating clean/organic whenever humanly possible- possibly following a lot of JM's tips in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Master Your Metabolism&lt;/span&gt; as I delve further in. Forget the Frankenfoods!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No more diet pop. None. At all. Seriously, break up with the diet pop.Unless you want to kill yourself one diet coke at a time. Which you don't. So stop it. Now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Water. Water. Water.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Consistent workouts. I have been so pathetic in this department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;That seems like a sufficient list. And this seems like a sufficient post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-2949768303223443290?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2949768303223443290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=2949768303223443290&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/2949768303223443290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/2949768303223443290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/ignore-scale-and-frankenfoods.html' title='Ignore the scale and the Frankenfoods.'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-6289556695430819249</id><published>2009-08-03T21:44:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T22:08:46.766-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jillian michaels'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scale'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chocolate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bob harper'/><title type='text'>Chocolate, Bob, and Jillian</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;The scale fairy has not delivered a new number for three days. That is not abnormal, really, but it is annoying. I am sitting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; at 193.0 and am itching to be down in the 192 range- and itching even more to hit 189. So close I can almost taste it (hopefully it is low-cal. come on, that deserves a chuckle. or at least one of those laughy-puffs-of-air, I believe they are called chortles.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Chortle Away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am guessing the stalemate on the scale (scalemate? hah) has to do with Mr. Hershey. I have eaten two milk chocolate bars in the last two days. I did fit those 220x2 calories into my day, which I am proud of. In the past, before my miraculous mental transformation, eating something like that (especially two days in a row) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;would have sent me spiraling downward, searching for more and more.. Leading to a binge. This time, however, I did not even feel myself fighting against the all-powerful force of the binge. My body is probably in shock, wondering where it's freaking binge is. I would bet all of my Wasa crackers that it is holding on at 193 because it knows I am only headed up (the bad kind of up.) Well, self, it's not going to happen. I have too much annoying positive energy for that to happen right now. Take that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news: Since Jillian Michaels abandoned me (or rather abandoned her radio show which I had an unhelathy attachment to- see &lt;a href="http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/radio-detox.html"&gt;Radio Detox&lt;/a&gt;) I decided to finally pick up a copy of &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Master-Your-Metabolism-Naturally-Balancing/dp/0307450732/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1249354631&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;Master Your Metabolism&lt;/a&gt;. It's not that I think my metabolism is a serious problem, I am just craving some of JM's no-nonsense nutrition/supplement information. What can I say, I am a vitamin salesperson/nutrition nerd. I could spend hours and hours and hours boring you with info, but I am always wanting more, and JM is a factual goddess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;These days I seem to be using the Biggest Loser gurus as two of my major full-time support staff. Granted, I have put the time in. And I activley seek information, but 43 days ago Bob helped me realign my inner-compass, and maybe Jillian will help me realign my metabolism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe all of the interesting facts will simply satisfy my nerdy-informaiton-cravings. Win-Win Baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-6289556695430819249?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6289556695430819249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=6289556695430819249&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6289556695430819249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6289556695430819249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/chocolate-bob-and-jillian.html' title='Chocolate, Bob, and Jillian'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-698626373606674748</id><published>2009-07-30T23:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T23:42:33.301-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Bouncy Hair</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am officially moved in to my new homestead (aka: a room in my Aunt and Uncle's house) and tomorrow I will be officially moved out of my apartment. I left it on Wednesday all empty and scrubbed clean, but tomorrow I am going to take care of the moving-out-office-buisness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be strange living with people again, especially in a house. After moving from Minnesota to Texas for school in 2005, I lived in the dorms for a year, than an apartment with roommates for two years, and then in my lovely little loft apartment all by my happy lonesome (plus boyfriend's happy lonesome on weekends) for one year. And now here I am. They offered the free rent, which means I should finally be able to finish school this year. I'll take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I not living with boyfriend? His family is Catholic. It would so not be worth fighting with his parents. And his grandma. That woman could kill someone with sheer willpower if she wanted to. Good thing she tends to use her powers for good, and minor annoyance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scale has started creeping down again at it's slow-but-usually-sure pace, which is good. And my Aunt who is visiting this weekend commented on how great I look and immediately asked me how much weight I have lost (which is about 10 pounds after my yearish of maintenanceish time. About 30 total.) So anyway- she noticed, and that is fabulous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was a good hair day. Very bouncy. Which is really all that matters, hence the title.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-698626373606674748?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/698626373606674748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=698626373606674748&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/698626373606674748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/698626373606674748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/good-bouncy-hair.html' title='Good Bouncy Hair'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-7603293804344555350</id><published>2009-07-28T22:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T22:18:47.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Completed Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I have not been posting. Why? I don't know. Honestly. I have started about four different posts over the past week, but none of them make it to the end. I have decided that tonight I will click that daunting "publish post" button if it kills me. And if it does indeed kill me, my non-posting streak will be resumed indefinitley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think my back is finally recovering from my nearly-fatal fall (although my bum remains sore.) I am taking only one pain killer a day for the back pain, which is a huge improvement, and have started some light (very light) exercise. Boyfriend would have you believe that I hindered my back's recovery time, but I am moving. I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have to&lt;/span&gt; lift boxes.. and mattresses.. and tables.. and sofas. Maybe I am a little stubborn. Probably any other week I would have been bitching about moving the heavy furniture, but right now I am just freaking determined to prove that I can. Seriously, I need therapy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what did you miss in the exciting world of my weight loss last week? Not much. I was in the midst of that oh-so-special time of the month when a lady's body bloats up and hangs onto every molecule of water that it possibly can. I managed not to gain, but I did not lose anything. All week. I probably should have tucked the scale away for the week, but I have been a once-a-week-only-weigher for so long that I really don't know what my lady-time pattern is. I was curious, is all. I did it for science, really. Probably I should get some kind of award. So anyway, I managed to maintain all week, and then shoot up one pound a few days after, and then drop back down. So now I am sitting at the lovely number of... 194. I will totally take that. These days I am a weight-loss-machine. Hopefully I don't break, I don't think they manufacture my parts anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a long day (and week) and I am tired. I am sitting on my bed in my work clothes, with my black turtle-neck pulled up to my nose and my gray slacks already unbuttoned. I think it is time for pajamas, tea, and bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-7603293804344555350?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7603293804344555350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=7603293804344555350&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/7603293804344555350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/7603293804344555350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/completed-post.html' title='The Completed Post'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-3605440159167432153</id><published>2009-07-22T09:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T09:24:57.604-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='horrible day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skinny latte'/><title type='text'>Fat Latte</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Morning all. Yesterday was one of those terrible horrible no good very bad days. I woke up super sore and  moody. I felt gross and did not lose any weight (stupid lady time.) I had no drive to do anything. The coffee b*tch messed up my latte. And then my car wouldn't start after work and is now still sitting outside of the mall across town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to expand on the coffee b*tch. I love skinny lattes (fat free/sugar free.) Love them. I tend to stop into the coffee shop on a bad day and cheer myself up with 90 calories worth of latte-deliciousness. However, I have this irrational fear that the baristas are going to mess up and use full fat milk and the regular syrup. Boyfriend makes fun of me mercilessly for this. I am constantly double-checking when I order that they heard me say "skinny" and that they do in fact know what that means. But yesterday I was attempting to rise above my fear, and I did not double check at the register. But my trust in this coffee lady started to slide as I waited for my drink, and as she handed it to me she said, "Tall Caramel Latte." My heart skipped a beat and I said, "That is fat free/sugar free, right?" Without skipping a beat she said "No, I did not hear you say that. I am glad you asked." And she started fixing another one. It would have been nice, but she said it in an annoying fake-professional voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited for my new latte and left the coffee shop late for work and with my irrational fear validated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-3605440159167432153?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3605440159167432153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=3605440159167432153&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3605440159167432153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3605440159167432153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/fat-latte.html' title='Fat Latte'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-427041707258823564</id><published>2009-07-20T21:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T21:53:26.917-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coffee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cardio'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='injury'/><title type='text'>Water Mug</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; without coffee. Ridiculous, no? And I really like to save my tea for the evening. So this morning it was ice water out of my giant coffee mug. Was it the next best thing? No. But, I can not remember the last time I met my water-intake-goal for the day- so perhaps not a bad idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news: I am trying to figure out how to exercise with my stair-tumbling-induced-injury. My tailbone is bruised (possibly sprained,) and I am having constant pain in my lower back. I have been trying to walk to campus whenever possible, but I am basically not burning any extra calories. I really want to be doing kickboxing (my current favorite) but that is out of the question. And I honestly can not figure out any cardio workout that does not result in serious pain. Any suggestions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Readings for my literary criticism class are calling me, and I better answer (reluctantly.) I hope you had a happy day filled with coffee and a great cardio burn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-427041707258823564?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/427041707258823564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=427041707258823564&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/427041707258823564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/427041707258823564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/water-mug.html' title='Water Mug'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-1895704056711215117</id><published>2009-07-19T22:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T23:19:15.614-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='radio'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jillian michaels'/><title type='text'>Radio Detox</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;In case I have never mentioned, I am totally hooked on Jillian Michaels' radio show. Two hours every sunday. Gibber gabber about nutrition and fitness and everything I am obsessed with. The show is on a station out of LA, so I always catch streaming of it sometime during the week. I just plug my laptop into the handy little surround sound box while I cook and clean and, well, what else can I say except I love it? My guilty pleasure that I refuse to feel guilty about. My non-guilty pleasure, if you will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning I was finishing my stint as a Beagle-sitter and getting beautified for a friend's birthday party and I thought... Hey.. Jillian is about to start chit chatting live. I can stream it live! I set up the laptop and yammered on and on to Boyfriend about how amazing the show is and how giddy I was to listen to it live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Longish story shorter- I am cursed. I loved it too much. I smothered it with my love and it died. As I brushed my mascara on I listened to a man say that Jillian had too much on her plate and is no longer with the radio station. And that was that. He just went on reading the news like he had not just sucked a piece of joy from my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, of course, I proceeded to take my anger out on Mister Boyfriend (I have major PMS, mind you.) But I got all freaked out about not having this source of information, this wonderful escape anymore. It was not kind. I was tearing up and telling him how he did not understand- throwing myself a giant pity party about a stupid radio show and just waaaaaiting for him to say anything that I could jump on him for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the record, I did come to my senses and apologize. But, in all honesty, I am sad. Way bummed. And just wishing and hoping that they leave the archived episodes online for a while so I can have some detox action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need therapy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-1895704056711215117?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1895704056711215117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=1895704056711215117&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1895704056711215117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1895704056711215117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/radio-detox.html' title='Radio Detox'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-8885816287439918929</id><published>2009-07-18T20:32:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T23:20:01.116-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lazy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='organic'/><title type='text'>About Nothing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I live a charmed life, friends. I was scheduled to work all weekend, but magically I have it off. Why I have it off is an incredibly uninteresting story, so I am going to stick with magic (said in an emphatic whisper.) Who is good at magic? Dumbledore. Probably it was Dumbledore's doing. So thanks, Albus. Boyfriend and I are having a lovely lazy weekend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;So what am I doing with this lovely lazy weekend? Basically... Nothing. I am dog sitting for my Aunt and Uncle's Beagle (which happens to be one of my favorite things to do) and Mister Boyfriend and I are having fun making fruit smooties and other equally fun/cute things. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;We went out to lunch today at the cafe attached to one of our favorite organic/health food stores. Yummy sandwiches and soups. And while we were eating Boyfriend had a minor freakout because he thinks he is not being healthy enough... Poor thing. Yes, the man will shovel in the cookies sometimes, but he is normal weight- totally healthy- and has started paying attention to his portion sizes, and is trying to eat cleaner foods. But he was all worried because he has not gone totally organic yet. &lt;em&gt;I have not even gone totally organic yet!&lt;/em&gt; I kind of giggled at him, but also got all life-coachy on his ass and made him list all of the healthy changes he has been making in his diet. Poor boy wants to be "perfect" in a day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;So what did I learn today? When you do nothing, you really have nothing to write about. Although, you will most likely be writing in a happy mood. And I re-learned (by calming down the man) how important it is to focus on long-term goals, and where you're headed... But don't expect to change everything at once. Baby steps. (If you have not seen &lt;em&gt;What About Bob,&lt;/em&gt; I suggest you rent it and have a chuckle.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-8885816287439918929?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8885816287439918929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=8885816287439918929&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/8885816287439918929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/8885816287439918929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/about-nothing.html' title='About Nothing'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-3286839196307535723</id><published>2009-07-16T22:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T22:25:01.117-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sitting On My Sore Bum.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;My bum bone is not getting better. It hurts like a mofo. All of the time. I doubt there is a good time to bruise your tailbone but it really sucks when you have the following things going on in your life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;School. Sitting in hard chairs 4 straight hours a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Work. Standing on hard floor in bad shoes or sitting on a hard stool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Moving. Seriously, how did I earn the bad karma that is making me constantly bend and twist and squat and lift boxes while I feel like my ass is betraying my body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Work outs. What work outs? Exactly. Besides my crazy rebellious walk the day after the great stair tumble, I have not done any exercise this week. At least I am losing, but I really want to pick it up a little bit. I probably only want to because I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I know I am complaining, but I am crabby. Okay, really I'm not. Boyfriend made it too hard to be crabby tonight. He picked me up after class this afternoon, and had me cuddle up in his recliner chair in a non-bum-hurting position while he cooked me dinner, let me take a nap, and then put in Sweeny Todd. He also wrote me two sweet letters tonight. The first to read right away, and the second sealed, only to be read at home alone. Such a lovely man. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;So I am not grumpy, even though I want to be. Really I am at home feeling excited about a day off tomorrow and determined to really start moving some of my stuff. I am also stoked about my steady steady steady weightloss since I had my revelation 25 days ago. This morning I weighed in at 196.2 (yay). I am not allowing myself to be scared of the 190s. I have never in all these years of struggle been able to fight my way totally through the 190s. But it is not a struggle this time. Not a fight. I feel like I am skating right through them, and am excited about being almost halfway through these particularly tricky pounds. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Although, it would be nice if I was speed skating. Meh, I will settle for wobbly-kneed, ankle-turned gliding. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-3286839196307535723?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3286839196307535723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=3286839196307535723&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3286839196307535723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/3286839196307535723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/sitting-on-my-sore-bum.html' title='Sitting On My Sore Bum.'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-2975375281205125648</id><published>2009-07-14T09:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T10:11:59.617-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Skinny-Without-Trying-Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Hello from an over-heated Minnesotan stuck in Texas. It is going to be over 105 again today, which is just wrong. The heat index temps recently have been right about 110 or higher. Suck. I am crazy sore after my not-so-acrobatic tumble down the stairs yesterday, and am feeling a little paranoid about not exercising (which is interesting because I have not been really exercising recently.) It is amazing how not being able to do something makes you want to so much! Last night I bent into all sorts of painful positions and scrubbed down my bathroom and kitchen. Stupid considering the events of the morning? Yes. Oh well. And today all I can think about is logging 10,000 steps on my pedometer. I really want to walk from my apartment to my classes today (usually I walk some and bus the rest because of heat and time.) We will see how that pans out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news I promised some details on why it is ridiculously hard to stay on track when visiting Boyfriend's parents. I think I shall list it up, yo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are always at least five candy jars and one cookie jar in the living room and the kitchen (more around the holidays.) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is usually another box of cookies sitting on the kitchen counter (Boyfriend's dad literally eats an entire package of cookies everyday.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Fridge and pantry are full of full-fat, full-evil, full-everything snacks and food (chocolate, chips, more cookies, macaroni and cheese, ice cream, more cookies, and soooo much more.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;As a family they eat out for major meals all weekend, every weekend. This used to be a disaster for me. Every time we visited I would be eating fried foods and high high calorie meals because I could not resist them at a restaurants. But now I am able to resist french fries and other junk and make great choices as the restaurants (probably better then I would be able to at their house!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Loving Boyfriend's loving Mom and Dad are always packing bags of food for us to take back. Including, of course, many soft ooey gooey chocolaty delicious cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Boyfriend's mom does not eat a lot. She has always been a short small lady. Granted, she does not choose the healthiest way to prepare and order food- but she eats quite small portions and does not have any sort of weight issue. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Boyfriend's dad only eats one meal a day- dinner. He is moving all day long, working on projects outside, then breaks for dinner. Then at some point in the evening he comes inside, chills in his recliner and enjoys an entire package of cookies. He also strolls out of the bedroom at night and eats a few more cookies in the kitchen. He also, has no weight issue (he is too skinny if anything.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;And Boyfriend himself is a short little cutie (think James McAvoy) who can eat absolutely anything he wants, and not have any problems. But, lucky for me, he has gotten really excited in health and nutrition. Now he runs or walks every morning and is focusing on switching to more pure foods, and going organic whenever possible. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;And that concludes this installment of the skinny-without-trying family. This is a really long entry. You should get a trophy for making it to the end. Although, you probably want a cookie after this one. Ask boyfriend if he will share. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-2975375281205125648?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2975375281205125648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=2975375281205125648&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/2975375281205125648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/2975375281205125648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/skinny-without-trying-family.html' title='Skinny-Without-Trying-Family'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-5023686045522958787</id><published>2009-07-13T09:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T10:10:32.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fall</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am so bad at being a girl. I have been neglecting my feet a little recently, which is breaking so many girl-laws during sandal season. Honestly, Boyfriend even offered to give me a foot-massage the other day and I refused because of the state of my feet! Ridiculous. So after a serious of days filled with silly negative-feet-though&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ts, I decided simply to fix them. I attempted to paint my toenails last night with a pretty pale pink that would probably be called something like dusty rose (if it was meant for an old lady) or pretty in pink (if meant for a younger lady.) As usual, my toenail painting attempts failed miserably. I did not even get one foot half-done before realizing how crap it was and quickly washing it all off. After abandoning the pink I slathered my feet in special vanilla foot lotion, and stuck them into the fuzzy gel-lined booties that Boyfriend gave me for my birthday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;So where am I going with this? Well, I left them on all night for some intensive healing. This morning I was headed down the stairs wearing only my boodies and some underoos and disaster struck. My feet were all slick inside the booties from the lotion and sweat and moisterizing action, and this slickness skidded my feet forward across the gel while the bootie stayed put on the step as my brain had intended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell. I fell hard. I fell really hard. Straight down onto my tailbone on the hard step. The pain shot up from there straight through my back. It felt like my spine was being played like an accordian. I sat there making loud moaning noises (sounding much like a cow) because my lungs could not suck in enough air to scream. It took me about 10 minutes to scoot down the final few steps and get myself laying flat on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hurt everywhere from my bum to my neck, and am not entirley sure how I am going to make it through a full school/work day. Hard chairs for 4 hours followed by standing only on a hard surface for 5 hours. Fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's my story, kids. I was going to write about my food-battles this weekend visiting Boyfriend's family. There are some interesting internal screaming matches followed by much triumph. And much anger about giant soft cookies. And, honestly, the amount of junk food and their house is worthy description, even a day later than intended. So (barring any more accidents/injuries) consider that a preview for tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have happy days out there! Eat well and be well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-5023686045522958787?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5023686045522958787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=5023686045522958787&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5023686045522958787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5023686045522958787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/fall.html' title='The Fall'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-6395287386141965989</id><published>2009-07-10T05:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T05:51:34.201-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='calorie counting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coffee'/><title type='text'>I Miss Bernie!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;I am moving in a couple of weeks (to live rent-free, mind you) and I already gave Boyfriend our coffee-grinder, who we affectionatly call Bernie. So Bernie is gone, and I didn't think to grind a whole barrel-ful of beans before I sent him packing. Dumb? Yes. Now I have no coffee. None. I dug through all of my cabinents, searching longingly for even the crappiest of Folgers. Nothing. I am completly without coffee. This is just not acceptable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boyfriend is an early riser, and I have seriously considered calling him and demanding a delivery of some fresh ground beans, but for some reason I am hesitating. Why? I really don't know. I guess I will have tea, which is usually my nighttime hot-drink of choice. Mayhaps I am growing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not growing width-wise, I'll have you know. This is my 19th day of being totally on track food-wise! Honestly, it is so different this time around. I am tracking calories in my pretty little handmade (by mom) book, but it is so different than when I did Weight Watchers, or any other points/numbers based tracking system. I feel like I am the one in control this time around. I am not attaching myself to anyone's plan, I am just being accountable to myself. I am thinking about eating clean foods, and am doing well on my switchover to organic everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to be a skinny little biznatch soon. How soon? I really don't care. As long as I make good choices everyday, and I feel good, I can be patient. The weight can fall off at it's own pace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-6395287386141965989?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6395287386141965989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=6395287386141965989&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6395287386141965989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/6395287386141965989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-miss-bernie.html' title='I Miss Bernie!'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-5773972364349666816</id><published>2009-07-09T09:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T10:16:46.938-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='popcorn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meditation'/><title type='text'>Posessed Air Popper</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;My air popper is posessed. Seriously. It has always been posessed, but last night was worse than ever. There were unpopped kernels flying out everywhere, and a few times the popcorn landed in the bowl with such force that it sent a wave of popcorn flying into the air- like throwing a stone into the water. Except it was popcorn. In my kitchen. Where I have to clean it up. I actually let out a not-so-quiet-scream at one point. It was madness, I'm telling you! But I fought my way through the wall of evil flying popcorn and managed to shut off that machine... Just as it expelled the last popped kernal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly now, what is that about? Every time. Every single time! My mom and I used an air popper sometimes when I was in high school, and I never remember it being such a disaster. I refuse to give up the popcorn, one of my favorite snacks, so I think next time I will be prepared. Helmet (bowl) on my head and shield (pot lid) in my hand. Ready for battle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's my tale. Hopefully I'm not alone in the battle against the air poppers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news... I have been attempting to listen to a 30 minute meditation thing twice a day for about a week now and I have not managed to get through without falling asleep! I suppose that shows that it is relaxing me, which is good. But I want to get the most out of it. And of course I want to make sure it's not hypnotizing me for some secret organization. Any tips?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-5773972364349666816?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5773972364349666816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=5773972364349666816&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5773972364349666816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/5773972364349666816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/posessed-air-popper.html' title='Posessed Air Popper'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-1471097665835538519</id><published>2009-07-08T07:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T17:49:17.050-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nutritional information'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='restaurants'/><title type='text'>Teaxas Roadhouse Rant</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I am so mad at Texas Roadhouse. I am mad at restaurants in general, but Texas Roadhouse is taking the brunt of it today. So here's the story (all about how my life got flip-turned upsidown...) I am sick of being undermined by restaurants. In my recent history (this spring) I have only slipped up when I have been pushed out of my normal routine. I have only been able to manage restaurants when I pick them and am able to carefully review their nutrition information before I leave the house and get there all prepared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night I faced my greatest fear: Dinner at a restaurant that I did not pick. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shudders&lt;/span&gt;. It was for my Aunt's birthday, a very worthy cause, but why Texas Roadhouse? Where there are peanuts and buttery rolls on the table, and mashed potatoes screaming out to me from the menu. "Maaaaaanda. Have you forgotten us? We only want to make sure you maintain a decent amount of lumpiness on your bum and thighs. We are only thinking of you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, in all honesty, I was basically a superhero. I got there, told Boyfriend that I was not having any rolls or peanuts and he gave me an encouraging nod. I ate a house salad minus the dressing, a cup of delicious green beans, and oven roasted chicken minus the skin. It was finger-lickin' tasty, and I was able to enjoy time with my family without thinking about the food. The potatoes really did not call out to me at all. The tempting bread and peanuts did not distract me from conversation. And I did not feel any food envy. I was satisfied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah yeah, I am finally making strides in correcting my twisted relationship with food. And yeah yeah, these successes are mysterious and amazing. But what I am most fixated on is my anger toward's the restaurant. I am proud that I was able to make amazing choices (and see a drop in the scale today) using only my own common sense, but why do they have to make it so difficult. Go ahead, read their statement and just try not to get in a tizzy. Go here, and click on Nutritional Information from the menu: http://www.texasroadhouse.com/contact-us/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you read it? Did you manage not to make annoyed-huffy sounds while you did? Do you know how sick I am of restaurants being so selfish? Go ahead, have your 1500 calorie meals, but just tell me! Just share your most accurate informaiton so your customers are able to eat with you regardless of their health concerns and plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, rant over. I am patting myself on the back for excellent choices the resulted in a delicious and nutricious meal. And I am waiting for the day when I can always know what exactly I am putting into my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am going to focus on the fact tht it was so easy... My relationship with food has been changing so much. More on that later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-1471097665835538519?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1471097665835538519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=1471097665835538519&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1471097665835538519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/1471097665835538519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/teaxas-roadhouse-rant.html' title='Teaxas Roadhouse Rant'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4368121051842136920.post-908640441280513572</id><published>2009-07-07T08:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T09:57:44.041-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Story of The Little Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;My story is not a sob story, although it would be a big fluffy lie if I told you I have not done a significant amount of sobbing about my pudge over the years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Once upon a time there was a cute little girl. All smiles, wispy blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. Her biggest concern was being messy (she usually failed to notice the holes in the knees of her tiny windpants, the stans on her tee-shirts and the stickyness of her hands.) One day a snippy little boy called the little six-year-old girl fat, and she was never the same. She became paranoid about what people thought of her. She assumed every whisper and giggle was about her floppy behind. She took every precieved comment to heart, and learned how to bury her emotions under food. She constantly compared herself to her friends, sure she did not measure up. And she started putting on weight. It came on like the speed of a train- slowly at first, chugging along through the years, gaining speed through junior high and high school, and hitting a break-neck pace in college. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She tried to hide behind her humor and her giant lady melons. And she constantly tried to fix herself. During her nightly prayers she would beg and plead, bargining with God for a free pass to skinny. She made attempts at change, but success was marginal and short-lived. There were shakes, bars, fad diets, attempted vegetarinaism, obscene amounts of water, low-carb, low fat, and half-attempts at starvation. She tried to run, rollerblade, bicycle, swim. She locked her bedroom door and danced around to old Richard Simmon's records. Mostly she would lay in her bed at night and imagine the blade of a sharp knife making several clean cuts that would elimiate all of her excess lard. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sometimes 5 pounds would go, and sometimes 20 pounds would go. But it would always find a way back. At age 20, the little girl bought a scale and weighed herself for the first time in two years. She peered over her stretch-marked stomach and stared at the digital display accusing her of carrying 227 pounds. She felt a desperate panic followed by a surge of determination. She signed up for Weight Watchers Online, and managed to lose about 40 pounds over the course of 12 months. Then she met a boy and spent the next year in a cycle of gaining and losing. The little girl found herself back at 210 pounds. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She knew the year had not been a waste. She had fallen in love, and learned to let herself be loved. Her state of mind had started changing, and something miraculous happened. She started to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If you have not yet figured out that I, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Fluffy Girl&lt;/span&gt;, am that little girl.. well, then I am sorry for the trickery. But really, it wasn't that clever. Get with it, mister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot more stories within my story. Funny stories, and sad stories. Most likley many pathetic stories wrapped up in cleverness. But don't get your panties in a bind, I will tell you everything. Eventually. 22 years of frutrating flub-fighting takes a while to detail. My fat and I have a long lumpy history. But we are negotiating the terms of a permanent seperation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, at this very moment (actually several moments ago before breakfast) I weighed in on that same scale at 199.2 pounds. I am not letting anyone else boss me around in my weight-loss, I finally figured out that I like to be in charge of myself. I constatnly devour new helpful nutrition information, and would love to spew some of it out at you. And I also need a place to spew my sucess, and set-backs. My new stories and old stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years ago, five years ago, ten years ago- this blog would have been full of teary entries typed with fingers greasy from fast-food french fries. But it is a lot more interesting this time around. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4368121051842136920-908640441280513572?l=thefluffygirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/feeds/908640441280513572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4368121051842136920&amp;postID=908640441280513572&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/908640441280513572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4368121051842136920/posts/default/908640441280513572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefluffygirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/story-of-little-girl.html' title='Story of The Little Girl'/><author><name>Manda Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10659089915741355309</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XlB_O6NHmZo/SlNi_9PF8lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/suGEYuC6pVw/S220/Photo+40.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
