Yeah, so I learned a valuable lesson this morning. One I learned YEARS ago from my dad and somehow managed to forget. The best way to keep a secret is not to tell anyone. The updated version is never tell someone something you wouldn't want the world to know. This morning I woke up to a link that reminded me that keeping something personal is impossible on the web. Imagine my surprise when a 'friend' decided to blurt out how I was 'coming out' since losing weight and it was about time to show how my outside looked as good as my inside. This was a HUGE surprise to me since all that I did is post some new photos on Flickr. Apparently posting photos is the equivalent of 'coming out'. So... since my weight loss has been discussed and now posted on someone's blog I might as well share what has been happening. Mind you, It's not like I've been keep this a huge secret. I have told people. I just wanted to keep it to those who were close to me and understood. Silly me...

Six months ago I had Bariatric surgery. Lets take it one step further... I used to be skinny. REAL skinny. I was active and could eat anything I wanted. Then I got into a bad car accident and it went down hill from there. I was laid up for a year with surgery, etc... and my metabolism slowed to a crawl. I slowly gained weight and tried all sorts of diets to lose it. What I didn't know was that every time I tried some new diet and ate less my metabolism went lower. All those fad diets killed my metabolism. Then I hurt my other knee and went in for surgery. Afterwards my back went out and I was almost immobile. I would stand to do dishes and my back would lock. I couldn't exercise to lose weight and the weight was killing me. It was a vicious circle and I had to put a stop to it. I finally agreed to do the surgery.

My life is very different now. I can't eat that much (no big deal) and have to be careful of what I eat or I get sick (kind of annoying). I remember talking to someone about the surgery who REALLY needed it. She was over 300 pounds easy and shook the ground when she walked. We talked about the procedure and what you had to give up. She balked and said no way because she loved food too much. That's when I knew I had made the right decision. Food is not worth your health.

A little about the procedure: My stomach is still there, but I don't use it. Instead they bypassed it and created a new 'stomach' the size of a 30 cc cup (like the ones you take meds with) that has an 8mm opening at the bottom (about the size of an eraser head). This means I have to eat slowly and chew everything until it can fit through that part. Needless to say, I have been dropping weight and starting to feel like me again. I can no longer wear my current clothes and have started wearing the older ones til I lose all of the weight. The best part is that I finally see ME again. I've still got a little ways to go, but it's all good.

If you have any questions about this I will be happy to answer. It was a rough ride to get to this point and I honestly didn't think I would even tell people about it. Weight has always been a sensitive issue for people and I guess I'm no different now that I've been on the other side of the size stick. I have learned a lot though. People judge you quicker, are less likely to be flirty and can be really mean.

About the 'outting'. I'm not going to mention (or link) the person who decided to talk about my weight loss. He didn't do it maliciously (that I know of) and did not mention the surgery. I do want to mention that I wasn't 'coming out' by posting a photo of me. I have taken many photos and just wasn't happy with the ones I was taking. But I have posted some so I don't know why he would think this was any different. To be honest this photo wasn't the greatest either. I had gotten back from chatting with Audie for about five hours and looked a tad tired. still... I was dressed nice and like the way my hair looked *vanity*. Anyway, back to your regularly scheduled blogging.

Neil Kramer, where have you been all my (online) life? Citizen of the Month is a hilarious blog with just the right amount of Jewish humor that makes it a perfect daily read. His entry on Mel Gibson made made me feel so much better about the fiasco. Sometimes you just need to hear it from someone who understands (but doesn't over react) about the sting of anti-Semitic remarks. Humor is the best medicine.

Sometimes I feel lonely without the Jewish connection. I don't go to Temple (I know... I know...) and none of my friends are Jewish. For once I'd like to go somewhere and not have people ask me, "So... What DO you eat? Porks out, right?" Oy... I feel worse than a diabetic cousin at a Candy convention. "We can order something special for you." I remember the year my friend dragged me to their family's cabin in the woods to celebrate Christmas. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't bring her to understand the statement "No one should be alone for Christmas. Not even a Jew!" didn't make any sense.

We arrived just in time for dinner. Everyone was already at the table waiting for the food. After announcing that she had invited her 'Jewish friend' to dinner we sat down. There's nothing like being the token Jew I tell ya. I looked over at some blackened meat and casually asked what it was. Her mother chirped, "Why it's Por... " and stopped. Suddenly all eyes were on me and you could hear a pin drop. I glanced around at everyone, who looked like the friday night movie stopped and Beastiality Fun Part Twelve started playing, and smiled. "I'll have the salad." With that her mother was running out of the room, yelling about finding something for me to eat. I wanted to die. I settled for a cream cheese and jelly sandwich, which I had to fight to eat. "Cream cheese and jelly? Didn't anyone bring peanut butter? Quick, go to the store!" After ten minutes they let me eat my 'weird' food while they ate theirs. That was the last time I went to someone's place for Christmas as a pity meal.

I figured I'd get everyone up to speed on who I am and why I'm doing this. I was born and raised in sunny California. My dad wanted more children and so he adopted me. My new mother hated me, and so the story begins. I had the typical traumatic childhood, losing my dad at age thirteen. I have never blamed any past events on my current mental status... Let's face it, as an adult you can pretty much surmount anything you choose to.

I became an emancipated minor and lived on my own at 13. I looked older which helped me in two areas... Getting jobs and older men. I was a pediphile's dream, but smart enough not to fall victim. More traumas, blah blah... and somewhere in between I managed to find myself and get out on the other side into adulthood.

I was a late bloomer on the web. REALLY late. I found it in late 2000, but brushed it off as a means to get info. Then it happened. My friend sent me a link to a gore site. My stomach flipped. I urped. I clicked on their links. I went from taking headers in the cyber waves to actually surfing. After reading through a few personal sites I would never be the same. The reason: Pr0n. Oh yeah! People were flashing their stuff all over the web and I was enjoying every minute of it. I somehow missed the whole AOLer chat phenominom, which is a good thing.

After reading through people's personal websites I decided to start my own. It was April 2001. I typed up a rant and threw that baby up. Imagine my surprise... and horror to see the words all over the place. I had never heard of HTML, much less used it. I spent the next three days in tears, trying to learn what to do. NoChickTrix.com was born and I've never looked back.

So why start a blog if you have a site? Simple... okay, not so simple. NCT has grown into a wonderful community. When I think of NCT I think of a great group of people who post on one of the best forums around. It's read by my friends, coworkers and countless people searching for porn. Lately I've been feeling disillusioned. I wanted something that was JUST me. No links, no porn, no holding back. The result is what you are reading now... if you haven't clicked off, that is.

I would like to thank Bane for putting up with my whining and creating a beautiful layout; and Jake for putting up with my fits and courageously entering the bedroom when I was having one of the worst PMS episodes since Lorena Bobbitt to console me. I love you both.

Let the journey begi... *looks up* Damn, that's a long fucking po... er... begin.