Week 10: down 0 pounds (-17.5 total!)

HMD’ers, let me tell you - this is one rough morning.  If I manage to make even one insightful observation during this entry, I will be surprised.  I am bummed because of my lack of loss (I know, I know, last week was a big jump down and I can’t expect to do that every week…but still…I am bummed nonetheless).  I am also suffering the ill effects of a mild hangover.  I could blame this rough morning on a lot of HMD Foes past (margaritas, weekends, Hot Bartenders).  I could even blame it on myself and my own lack of discipline and control.  But why do that?  Let’s just put the blame where it truly belongs.  For my current woeful state, I blame SUMMER!

This summer has been a whirlwind of craziness for this SoCal girl.  (I’ve been here five years.  Can I rightly call myself a SoCal girl?)  For various and sundry reasons, my social life has seized upon this most glorious of seasons and has taken off like so many rockets.  June and July were lost in a hazy blur of parties, barbeques, concerts and weddings, and August sits looming ahead, my busy calendar already preying at my weakness and staking its claim on my now weathered liver and empty wallet.  What the eff is going on here?!  When did Reasonable Leah give over to Summer Leah?  And where the hell did this Summer Leah come from, anyway? 

My mother says that when I was very young she was convinced that I would be kidnapped, because whenever someone would say “Leah, do you want to go…”, I would immediately say yes.  The rest of the sentence didn’t matter.  If there was somewhere to go, some fun to be had, I was in like Flynn!  So, perhaps this is simply a character trait that has stumbled into full bloom during this Summer of Fun?  Perhaps the various elements of my life have simply lined up to create a perfect storm of sorts, a Perfect Social Storm - easy job, no major travel plans, wonderfully social friends, close proximity to the beach, discovery of $4 bottles of Prosecco from Trader Joe’s (yum!), increased confidence due to successful weight loss efforts, increased need to meet Hot Men so as to aid in research for Hot Man Diet, etc. 

Do I fight it?  Seriously, do I fight it?  I’ve done nothing this summer to work on my long-term career goals.  (Does anyone know someone who can get me a job on The Daily Show?)  I’ve been THRILLED with the work I’m doing here on HMD, but I’ve done nothing to seriously promote it.  (Does anyone know Oprah?)  I think my bills are getting paid, but I can’t be sure of it.  No one has taken my car away…yet.  My apartment is reaching new heights of disarray (I’m usually very anal about my living space…tee hee…I said ”anal”).    And the fact that I’m able to face the world every morning with clean underwear is a flat-out miracle.  I’ve become Nicolas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas, only with less money, less of a problem with the hooch, a strong desire to live and no hookers. 

But on the other hand - I AM HAVING SO MUCH FUN!!!  Why the hell not indulge this one summer of ridiculousness, right?  I’m young, I’m single, I’m getting healthier and stronger in spite of it all and I’m having a freaking blast in the process!  Won’t there be plenty of time in the future to be hard-working and industrious?  Can’t I put off becoming a responsible adult for four more weeks?  Seriously, just until Labor Day?  PLEASEEEEE!!!

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  Well, he did it.  He finally did it.  After two near misses, Alex Rodriguez has finally earned a spot on Hot Man Diet!  How?  By becoming the youngest player ever to reach 500 home runs (and, in doing so, mercifully siphoning off a bit of the Barry Bonds media coverage).  Alex, will you be in pinstripes next year?  Or will you let that evil agent of yours ruin your career…again?  Please, just let me love you.  I want to love you!  Ahh, we must not go there, not now.  Let’s not talk of the future, let’s just enjoy this moment.  Alex Rodriguez, you’re (finally) my Hot Manspiration of the Week!

Also, in the continuing saga of “Why Am I Ashamed to Love Paul Walker?”, Miss Gee, HMD Fan #1, offers up this pic and advice:  ”This might be considered an alternative version of Paul Walker….. I do not mean to imply that you need to replace your tender lady feelings for Paul …. however, THIS version of Paul Walker (in form of Jason Lewis) doesn’t date Jessicas (he dates Rosarios), he doesn’t do “dude” flicks (he does annoying t.v. shows like Brothers and Sisters), and he is older and therefore just ever-so-slightly better.”  To his defense, Jason Lewis also does wonderful t.v. (I really miss Sex and the City!)  And yes, he is unquestionably Hot.  But better than Paul Walker?  I dunno about that one… 

So…this morning I was all set to sit down and write a special HMD Thursday edition.  I was gonna work on it during the day and post it this evening for your Manjoyment.  But then my day was shot all to hell.  I have a sad tale to tell.  Are ya’ll sitting down?

Her Hotness’ car was brutally hit by swarming paparazzi on the Sunset Strip!! 

Yes, that’s right.  The above sentence is indeed correct, if by “swarming paparazzi” you mean a crotchety 75-year old woman and if by “Sunset Strip” you mean a parking lot in Long Beach.  My car was hit, ya’ll!  And ya’ll know how much that can ruin a girl’s day.  Boo!!!  But, lest ye worry, I am fine, just FINE, I CAN RUN TO THE STORE AND BACK BUT MY DAUGHTER CAN’T!  SHE NEVER COULD!! 

Oooh, sorry.  Just stumbled into Steel Magnolias there…perhaps me ole brain got tweaked after all… 

Seriously, I’m fine.  There’s some damage to my car, but this is the time when it rocks to work for an automotive repair shop.  (Gretchen’s Automotive, 562-430-3728, they do EXCELLENT work!)  I’m not hurt, the crotchety old bitty isn’t hurt, and Nadia will be back out on the road in no time flat.  (Yes, I named my car after 1976 Olympic gold medalist Nadia Comaneci, the first gymnast to ever score a perfect 10 in Olympic competition.  She’s also my childhood, nay, life-hood IDOL!  I love you, Nadia!!)

In the meantime, you guys will have to wait a bit for my special entry - Hot Man Diet Presents…The Hot Man Playlist!  Oooh ooh, gonna be some sexy singing up in this piece.  I’m thinking Marvin Gaye might make the list….maybe a ‘lil Prince…dare I say it - Justin Timberlake?  STAY TUNED!!

And because Her Hotness cannot leave you without something to keep the fires burning and the food at bay, here is a link to an utterly charming Gerard Butler interview.  It is a few years old, but dee-lightful!  (Mom - STOP READING NOW.  Everyone else - can I just say that out of all the accents in the world, the Scottish accent is my absolute favorite and the ULTIMATE pantydropper!  It somehow manages to be both musical and manly at the same time, aaahh, I can’t take it, it is SO HOT!  Damn!)  Enjoy!

HERE I AM!!

Hey ya’ll!  I had some technical difficulties this morning, so I couldn’t post my Weekly Speak at the normal time.  But everything is fixed now, and we are go for this week’s weigh-in…

Week 11: down 0 pounds (-17.5 total!)

So…I’ve hit another impasse.  Two weeks in a row with no loss.  What to do…what to do…

I’ve got an idea.

Here we go - this week, I am going to put Hot Man Diet to the test.  The challenge is thus: before I insert anything into my mouth (ooh, that sounded dirty!) I WILL, without fail, force myself to think about one of my Hot Manspirations for at least ten seconds.  It is my firm belief that this ten second Hotbreak will have an immediate positive impact on both the quantity and quality of food I consume. 

 I’ve been toying with the idea of doing this for a while, and I think now is an excellent opportunity to seriously practice what I preach.  I call this challenge the Mancipation Proclamation, as I now declare myself free from food slavery!  Freedom, sweet freedom, rain down on me and baptize me anew as I slough off this mortal coil for a smaller, healthier, firmer mortal coil!  I call upon my army of Hot Manspirations to lead me into battle - Derek Jeter, send me salads!  Daniel Craig, will me towards water!  George Clooney, liberate me from libations!  Taye Diggs, perfect my portion sizes!  Paul Walker, empower me to exercise!  Gerard Butler, say my name in that accent!  Aaah, ye few, ye happy few, ye band of Hot Manspirations, for he today that helps me win this war shall be my lover!!

(I wish.)

Let’s just see if it works.

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  In spite of the fact that it gave me a wicked bad case of motion sickness, I must say that I thoroughly enjoyed The Bourne Ultimatum.  Matt Damon, for becoming the actor that we hoped you would become (you listening, Affleck?), for bulking up and filling out nicely (great arms!), and for being classy throughout, for these reasons and more (and in spite of the whole Red Sox fan thing, don’t think that didn’t give me pause) you are my Hot Manspiration of the Week.  Hug me, you big lug.

Also on this week’s Mandar - Patrick Wilson.  You might not immediately know who this one is, but you’ll catch on soon enough.  He’s been in my house courtesy of the Angels in America DVDs that I’m finally getting around to watching.  (The movie is fantastic - if you haven’t seen it rent it ASAP!  I’m convinced that Meryl Streep is the finest woman I will ever never meet.)  He’s also the handsome feller dancing with Claire Danes in those unexpectedly charming Gap commercials.  AND he was in Little Children (another fantastic movie!) with Kate Winslet.  I bring this movie up because it features SEVERAL nude scenes, all of which only confirm Mr. Wilson’s addition to my current roster of Hot Manspirations.  Next up from Netflix - The Phantom of the Opera, starring Patrick Wilson AND Gerard Butler (and Emmy Rossum, who totally grates my nerves…you can’t win ‘em all).  Hubba hubba, holy Hotness!  I see some Special Moments in Her Hotness’ future…

Hot Man Diet Foe of the Week:  Senior citizen drivers.  (See Hot Wheels)

From the desk of Her Hotness:

Hello, my Hot Man Dieteers!  Greetings on this late Thursday evening. 

I come to you with my head bowed in shame.  Indeed, I am so upset I could flog myself!  For the second week in a row, life events have transpired in such a way that I am prevented from writing my promised special entry - Hot Man Diet Presents…The Hot Man Playlist!  I am full of guilt and self-loathing over my apparent inability to bring forth some harmonious Hotness, some musical Manjoyment, an orchestral orgasm of sorts.  And yes, in the time that it took me to write this I could have plunked down some crap about bringing sexy back or some other such nonsense, but I REFUSE to just whip this thing out!  (That’s what he said.)  The Hot Men of Music deserve just as much respect as the Hot Men of Baseball and the Hot Men of the UK, don’t they? 

 With your permission, HMD’ers, I’d like to postpone this entry one more week, so that I may give it as much earth, wind and fire as it deserves.  Her Hotness’ plate is super full right now, and thank goodness I mean that figuratively.  (Two salads today - who’s rocking their Mancipation Proclamation?  I am, I am!)  I still have the social calendar of a freaking debutante, and in addition to my regular job I have all of sudden become a caterer.  Whaa?  Even I’m starting to laugh at my ability to crash headfirst into shit to do.  My hovel of a kitchen is o’erwhelmed with produce, and the big decision I must make tonight is thus: do I make the coconut cupcakes from scratch or do I make the cake part from box mix and only make the icing?  The bigger issue, of course - how to avoid eating one of the cupcakes.  Oy!  And remember how I wrote that facing the world every morning with clean underwear is a flat-out miracle…tomorrow morning might not be so miraculous if’n I don’t get me to a laundry, stat! 

So I beg of you all, please forgive me.  Forgive this world weary woman her shortcomings.  By the way, may I point out that Leah in Hebrew means “the weary and the forsaken”.  So it’s not like I had a choice!  Even my name is tired! 

And now I bid you all adieu ’till Monday.  First person that guesses whose RIDICULOUSLY HOT BODY that is to my right gets a prize…(here’s a hint - he’s definitely gonna be featured in Hot Man Diet Presents…The Hot Man Playlist!) 

P.S.  I just looked up at the t.v. only to see John Stamos on ER.  He’s all rough and tunble and in scrubs and HOT!  Man, ER finds the Hotties, doesn’t it?  First Clooney, now Stamos.  Have mercy! 

Week 12: down 2 pounds (-19.5 total!)

Yes indeed-y, my Mancipation Proclamation challenge worked after all!  I have busted through my second slump of the summer and proceed apace to Hotness.  I shall continue with this challenge, as it keeps me both honest and happy (who can be upset with visions of Clooney dancing in their heads?).  My Yanks are in town taking on those damn Angels, and my body is all aquiver over the influx of Hotness that has just hit the OC.  Yes, oh yes, there are many a  pin-striped reason to remain on target…

And now I digress…HMD’ers, it is no secret that Her Hotness is ever so fond of a good time, good time (see The Examination of a Foe).  This summer, in particular, has been “off the hook”, as the kids like to say.  And Sunday afternoons have become, out of nowhere, THE time to party hardest. 

There’s a certain bar in Venice Beach that we frequent with almost chilling regularity on Sundays.  We like it for its proximity to the beach (it is practically on the water), amazing view of sunset, fabulous margaritas and because we can get there via bike, which is my new favorite thing to do.  But mostly, we adore it because of what we call the “sketch” factor - you never know what you’re gonna get.  The ladies room, in particular, is a microcosm of everything that is wonderfully crazy and raunchy about Venice.  Kooky, funny, for the most part harmless, ALWAYS entertaining…how could you not love it?

Yesterday we got our first taste of how we could not love it.  Sketch overload.  Mine eyes have seen not one, but two pairs of naked ta-tas.  Whaa?!  I don’t want/need to see this crap!  The first girl gone wild was responding to some dude telling her she was hot (she was not).  Call me crazy, but when one is complimented in such a way is it standard practice to pull one’s bikini top off of ones boob, lift ones boob up and lick ones nipple???!!!???!  EWWWW!  And then she licked her fingers and did something else quite nasty that I won’t even say, lest some people stumble upon this site and think that Hot Man Diet need be read in a locked room with the lights off.  Needless to say, the bar ERUPTED in a weird combination of agony and ecstasy, but I was too busy screaming that the skank had given my eyes chlamydia.  (Funny chlamydia story here.)

Not five minutes later I notice a cluster of boys (not men, drooling, panting boys) looking down onto the street.  Seeing as how I am ever so curious about everything, I follow their gaze.  Topless woman on back of some dude’s motorocycle!!!  Whaaa??!?!!?  I quickly sent a little prayer to the Big Man upstairs for my craptacular eyesight, as this was no girl gone wild but a grown-ass woman on the mature-er side of things…needless to say, her Tia and Tameras had seen better days.

Ladies!  This is no way to act in public!  Even in Venice!  Her Hotness hates to be such a prude, but my goodness.  This is unnecessary!  We party girls have to maintain some level of dignity, right?  By upping the ante in such a way you force everyone else’s hand, and I can say most assuredly that it will be a cold day in hell before I unleash Talent and Ambition on an unwitting public!  They deserve better, I deserve better, you deserve better, we all deserve better!!  I mean, if you are going to strip, don’t you think you should at least make a little bank?  So, when we all meet again next Sunday I expect that you will show up with all the bases covered (so to speak) and lick nothing but the salt on the rim of your glass.  I am sorry for the lecture, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

And with that, Her Hotness gracefully dismounts her high horse…

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  This week I am giving over this section of today’s entry to my mother, as she celebrated her birthday yesterday.  Happy Birthday Mom!  In lieu of a proper gift (I’m a bad daughter), I give you some Hotness! 

Aaah, Will Smith.  The Fresh Prince.  You’ve been here before (see Hot Man Diet Presents…A Very Special Tribute to Hot Dads), but no doubt your good looks warrant a second moment of Manjoyment.  We love you, Will Smith!

John John, dear John John.  We miss you!  You have the distinction of being one of the few white men my mother finds Hot (she takes her coffee black, I like mine with heavy cream).  She  is not alone.  So dignified.  So classy.  So tall, dark and handsome.  So very much the man we ALL wanted to marry.  You were our shining prince, our bike-riding once and future king…so sad…so very sad.

Hubba, hubba.  Sigh, sigh.  Ooph, I am a blubbering mess over this one.  Denzel, kudos to you for your second HMD shout-out.  You are my mother’s absolute favorite.  That smile.  Those lips.  That swagger.  That talent.  That raw, raw sex appeal.  You have aged like a fine wine, Mr. Washington, and I will be among the first in line to see American Gangster. (Denzel and Russel Crowe in the same movie?!  The gods must truly love us!)  Denzel Washington, you are our Hot Manspiration of the Week!

Hot Man Diet Foe of the Week:  Paula Deen, I have been a big fan for some time now.  I adore your show, your yummy Southern comfort food, your handsome and charming sons.  I even won an office dessert contest two years in a row with your Gooey Pumpkin Butter Cake recipe.  But my god woman, you’ve gone too far!  While I was up early Saturday morning making wonderfully healthy foods for my first catering job, you were on my television making DEEP FRIED MACARONI AND CHEESE WRAPPED IN BACON!!!!  Whaaaa?!!!?!  I know you have never been the most heart-conscious individual (the woman puts butter in her hamburgers!), but this is bad, even for you.  You wanna know why?  ‘Cause someday I’m gonna be feeling real low, maybe because of a boy, maybe because of a job, who knows.  And when I’m feeling blue, when I’m depressed and having a rough time, I’ll think to myself, “You know what sounds good - DEEP FRIED MACARONI AND CHEESE WRAPPED IN BACON.”  And because of you and your evil, evil ways, I’ll know how to make it!!!!!  Damn you, Paula Deen.  Damn you.  (I love you!)