I Think My Scale's on Crack.

There are a few different Weight Watchers blogs that I keep up with (Bitch Cakes and OK Just One More Beer are my faves!), and recently they've talked a lot about change.  What are the steps to change?  How can we adjust to change?  Our environment has so much to do with making the right choices and staying on track.  For instance, my environment this weekend was definitely NOT conducive to healthy change.  I had three different desserts in my kitchen, I had jelly beans in the house, I had an entire loaf of fresh-baked rye bread on the counter!  The BBQ I attended on Saturday night was full of delectable and unhealthy goodness (and I perfected the act of gorging that night), and Friday and Saturday weren't exactly points-friendly either.

All said and done, when I stood on the scale this morning, I was certain I was still dreaming.  Could this be real?  Did I seriously lose this week?  You have got to be kidding me...I ate Jelly Bellies and drank red wine, I drank white wine, I drank vodka, I ate a hot dog!  I ate three Swag Bars on Sunday!  Holy CRAP!  I stood there for a few minutes, and realized something:  my brain hasn't completed its transformation.  My self image hasn't, to be more specific.

I am happier than I have ever felt in my life.  I live differently, I love differently.  Yes, it's true, I am a changed person, and I am definitely not the same Sarah I was three years ago.  My self esteem has most definitely changed (I actually have it now)!  I walk into a room and I'm no longer self-conscious, I feel attractive, and I can tell (and I love) when people are looking at me!

So what's the problem?

The chubby little girl inside of me, the girl the neighbors used to call "Shamu" (they actually did - it was traumatizing), still exists.  When I look in the mirror, I recognize that skinny girl staring back.  But when there is no mirror, it's so easy to forget.  My mind wanders into its old state sometimes.  My friend Courtney in Houston used to tell me that my body was losing weight, but my mind hadn't caught up.  I now finally understand what she meant.  I have to think when I'm shopping for clothes.  My first instinct is to grab that large top, when now I'm actually a medium, and sometimes even a small.  Granted, I don't go for the size 12 pants anymore, but it took awhile for me to switch over from 8 to 6.  Now the size 4 is fast-approaching, and I'm still training my brain to pick up the 6!

I leave in two days for the amazing (and occasionally dreaded) trip to Phuket.  The trip that started this whole blog; the trip where I will (possibly) wear an itsy bitsy teenie weenie Royales with Cheese Smugglette bikini.  Have I reached my goal?  Not yet.
But I am ecstatic at the prospect of that goal!  I am thrilled with my progress!  I am happy!

My Smugglette is still in transit, being carried to Singapore by a friend in Oz, and I'm hoping that when I do receive it, that Aussie size 10 will fit like a charm.  And though my stomach may still need a bit of flattening, and my thighs a bit more toning, I hope that I can rock out in that bikini this weekend.

Hell, the scale's not on crack.  I am not dreaming.  I really do weigh 133 pounds.  Holy shit.