So…

Here

        It

            Is.

The number one question I’ve been asked and the number one thing I’ve managed to avoid discussing… 

Here

        it

            is,

The My-weight, My-being, The-number-I-define-myself-through-each,-and-every-morning post. 

My Weight. My Body. My Size.

You: Did you get fat in DR?
Me: Yes

I gained THREE pounds.  O.k, ‘three’ shouldn’t have been capitalized there, because ya know what? I’m o.k with that.  It was incredibly hard to eat healthy in DR as I couldn’t touch fruit, lettuce, or anything remotely healthy because of the water, which meant it came down to portion control, which I officially SUCK at, especially when it’s buffet style. 

I also drank boat loads of alcoholic drinks (see previous post about me being *that* girl), which equaled millions of calories in that department, luckily(?) I hung out with resort boy most of the time, which meant I didn’t eat that much in front of him (because umm hello? phobia of eating in front of guys, ya… I know).

I will, however, mention this; last year I went to Cuba and nearly every single photo I despised of myself from that trip, like, I absolutely HATED them all, whereas this trip I actually had to ‘search’ for the worst ones, and I came up with these.  (Clockwise: Manatee-Frolicking-In-The-Water, The-Baby-Less-Bump, The-Beluga-Whale, and finally The-Look-At-The-Hippo-Running-Through-The-Water.) Not TERRIBLE, but by no means good/decent/ok.

My current weight (as of this morning) was 165, because since I’ve been home, I’ve gained a pound (why? emotional eating because no boy = lots of food, there! I said it. Whoa).

165 is my Goddamn magic number. I think if I started a 2nd blog I’d called it, “fuck you one sixty five,’ as that’s obviously the number my body settles on with a half ass exercise and eating routine (aka my life).

BUT,

I’m by no means giving up, I’m going to keep stumbling forward, fighting the battle, trying my best not to eat the cookie or pizza, but instead gnaw on the celery stick.

I’m back to 1,100 calories/day.

It’s on.

Love E

A few lovely folks have asked where my lucky ass went last week…

I went to Punta Cana, Dominican Republic, and stayed at Natura Park Beach - EcoResort & Spa.  I really liked it, despite the reviews online being mixed.

I paid C$1,100 for the week, but met people who had paid as low as C$575 for the week there, and as high as C$1,800.  The grounds were STUNNING and the rooms were good enough for me.  To be honest though, I really don’t care about the resorts themselves - it’s all about the beach baby, and this place? this place’s beach was gooooood. 

That’s actually the reason we chose it - because it was on the end of a strip of resorts, which meant absolutely deserted beaches right next to us, aka amazing times with zero people around.

Depending on the site, I’ve seen it ranked as low as 3 stars and as high as 5 (which it’s not), but it was good.  Night entertainment was INCREDIBLE, and despite it being a “family” resort there weren’t many kids, just lots of people my age (including good looking guys who I managed to cock-block myself with).

The food was delicious, sadly I had to stay away from all things healthy because of the water; my friend got sick, I didn’t - so it was touch n’ go, but that’s Dominican for you.  There are also TONS of activities during the day and excursions.

Hope that helps!!

My little inbox is full of questions, which I’ve been meaning to answer in, in forever, so I thought I’d do it today. Yay! (<— that was you) So if you have anything to ask today, ask away!

I’ve got lots of questions on where I got my bathing suits from, and what make they are. You wanted to know my bathing suit brand? Oh me, oh my I’m so flattered….

I should warn y’all though that despite saying ‘y’all’ I am from Canada, which sadly means y’all in the U. S. of A and other wonderful counties around the world may have a hard time finding them. (Although I know the red one is in the States, just not sure where (UPDATE: Thnks KBel - Red One can be found at Dillards in The States)

The red bathing suit is by Simon Chang, I creeped the Internet everywhere to give you a link, but sadly couldn’t find one, however I purchased it at The Bay for Canadian folk.  

The second bathing suit, (which seriously is SO FLATTERING) is by Tommy Bahama.  Here’s a link to it.  I also purchased it at The Bay.  The straps are super flattering (goodbye chicken fat!) and can easily be tied around your back for no tan lines.

Seriously folks, if your mid-section is your troublesome area, these bathing suits work wonders! And made me feel like a hottie on the beach, well not really, because ya… umm for obvious reasons, but nearly.

Us tubby folks super sexy ladies need to stick together, so hope this helps!  

Ps stop staring at my thunder thighs, Ithankyouinadvance.

~ Resort Boy ~

Leave it to me to have drama on my trip; where I go, drama follows, and where drama goes, boys leave. God damn.

I’m certainly not back to my pre-trip happiness, but I’m a lot better than I was Sunday and Monday.  So all signs are pointing to ‘I am moving on’

So friends, here’s the story…

Dominican was the BEST and WORST week of my life. Long story short (oh what? You want the long story? Hmm, can we settle on the medium length story? Deal? Deal) I met a boy my first night there who I fell really HARD for, like really hard. 

He was handsome, and nice and my type-of-guy: 6 feet. Blue eyes. Dark hair. Runs marathons. Plays chess. Loves dogs. Has a husky. Works for another Bank (trader). Lives in Toronto. Hates sushi. 32. Hilarious and sarcastic. Loves adventure and loves to travel. S e e ?   Perfect for me…

I was in heart and felt I could pass out when he looked at me. And the kicker? he liked me, like really, really liked me. And then, (because I suck at life,) I went and fucked it all up, like really, really fucked it all up…

Naturally I had been watching him all night (stalker much? Never!) and had oh-so-very elegantly and strategically placed myself next to him at the bar (come on ladies, we all do it), at which point he struck up a conversation with me and after catching my breath I spoke to him all night long.

We had the most incredible week together. Think movie scenes here: Skinny dipping at 4am under the stars in the sea. Hot make-outs on secluded beaches. Snuggles under the stars on beach towels. Some intense sessions on beach chairs. We didn’t have sex, just hot, sexy make outs (I liked him too much to sleep with him, and I think vice versa). He was aggressive in the perfect way (ie. pushing me up against a wall of a dark cave and giving me the perfect kiss) and amazingly sweet too. It was like I was in a fucking fairy tale movie and had found my prince charming.  My prince charming who I was NOT self conscious in front of (couldn’t explain why…). 

We had already planned to meet up in Toronto - everything was PERFECT. And then…wait for it, here’s the part where I SUCK AT LIFE…

I drank so effing much our last night there and then somehow (it’s all a blur to me, and if you judge me on this, I’m judging your grandmother) I MADE-OUT WITH HIS BEST FRIEND!!!!! Who I didn’t even like, who I didn’t even think was hot, and who I sincerely had zero feelings for whatsoever.

I have no fucking clue how it happened, just that lots of alcohol was involved.  I know I had felt bad for said Best-Friend earlier in the night, as I heard he felt like a 5^th wheel (my friend was with their other friend), so I went out of my way to include him, which included me taking him to some dark cave to show him something cool.  I was being way too flirty, and as I walked away he pulled me in, and I (oh-so-very stupidly kissed him back). Sigh.

Best-Friend ended up telling Resort Boy and shit (obviously) flew. He went from really liking me to HATING me. I cried. It was SO SAD. I’ll never forget looking into his blue eyes, I thought he was going to cry. I fell to my knees. I got weak. (I know, drama Queen, but I really was so sad). My heart was beating so fast. I had nothing to say. I didn’t even know how to explain it to him, I didn’t even know how it all happened.

So ya… like I said, I suck at like. And have decided alcohol is the fucking DEVIL. I’ve written him TWO emails and have yet to hear anything. I doubt I will. Lesson learnt. I hate how I’m 25 and this happened. I also hate how it was all my fault, I’m used to being on the receiving end, not the hurting end. Both are awful.

The drama went down in the early hours of Saturday morning which resulted in me nearly missing my plane home and I was hung-over as hell to add injury to insult.

So there’s that.

I know it sounds pathetic that I only knew him 7 days and fell so hard for him, but it was a super, hot, intense vacation romance… that left me with a wounded soul and pondering who the hell I am.

Sigh.

~ These were the horses (skinny! But I saw they had LOTS of fresh water, and food, but they weren’t eating - too hot?)~

~ This was my body (OMIGOD) in well selected photos ~

More to come on this later

~ This was some of the food ~

Notice how I skillfully haven’t mentioned my weight (yet). And yes, yes you can take this as a bad sign.

~ This was the “culture” ~