Week 58:  down 0 pounds (-53.5 pounds total!)

Hello America!  Did you have a happy birthday?!  Did you enjoy your barbeque and beer and cake and fireworks?  Did you have a grand old time at the beach, on the boat, in the backyard?  And does this morning find you just like me, tired and in need of a weekend to recover from your weekend (but looking forward to Stevie Wonder at the Hollywood Bowl tonight…seriously people, I seem to be falling ass backwards into concert tickets this year, what the eff?)  Yup, we sure do love being American.  And why not?  Have you seen some of the Hotness we’ve produced?  Hello!  We’ve got MUCH to be proud of!

This leads me to today’s discussion, which, I am delighted to point out, has absolutely nothing to do with food, alcohol or mothereffing weight loss plateaus.  Thank god!  Nope, today we’ll cap off America’s bday celebration by talking about one of my favorite subjects - SEX!  I’ve decided that we don’t talk about sex enough, do we HMD’ers?  Sure, we talk about the Hot all the time, but we don’t go into specifics, we don’t get into the nitty gritty, we don’t talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be…so let’s talk about sex!  

*** Note from Her Hotness - If you are related to me and/or attend my mother’s church and/or know my mother and/or ARE my mother STOP READING NOW!!  I’m cereal!  This will hurt you more than it will hurt me, for I wear my sextacular-ness like a badge of honor, like a badge of freaking honor!!  Save yourself the potential pain and embarassment…save it for when I’m rich and famous and have made millions off my whore stories, for that day is nigh…***

*** Another Note from Her Hotness - Mom, I said STOP READING!  Thank you.  ***

A good friend of mine once had relations with a English chap who informed her that “American girls give away blowjobs like kisses”.  Whaa?!?!  Seriously, we do?  We go downtown more often and with more fervor than our Euro couterparts?  I, for one, must admit to being particularly generous in this area.  But as I am often more generous than most, I would not assume my countrywomen are equally as headstrong about their head-giving.  Am I wrong?  Have we, as a whole, embraced the bj as ne’er before?  To be sure, when it is done and done well it offers both participants a heady rush…am I alone in thinking of it as a power play, as my ace in the hole, as the capper in my amorous arsenal?  Apparently not. 

I know there are some women who hate doing that deed.  I say those women have never learned how to do it well.  I used to be that woman.  Yup, stop laughing.  I indeed used to be that woman.  Hated the blowjob with a passion.  Wouldn’t do it unless I had to.  And when I did…ugh, I owe some guys out there some serious apologies.  One day I realized enough was enough.  I knew that if I wanted men to continue to be orally generous with me - and I DID! - I needed to learn how to reciprocate.  Tit for tat, ain’t that what it’s all about?  So I went to the person I figured could help me the most - my gay best friend.  Talk about an expert!  What better person to school you than the one who BOTH gives and receives?  Effing brilliant!  And what’s more - it worked.  Of course it did…I’ve always been an A student!    

I offer all of this information up for a few reasons:  1) Shits and giggles, 2) To make this lone anthropological observation - Isn’t it interesting to note that while we are oftentimes considered the most prudish of countries sex-wise, we are also developing a reputation for being the most fellatious?, and 3) To bring to the world a gift from my exceptionally witty friends, who did not look a gift horse in the mouth but instead turned this slight slur against sluts into yet another hilarious euphemism for that most oral of sex acts - being American.  Here are some examples:  “Were you very American with him?”  “No, I’m never American on a first date.  We just kissed.”  “I made sure that this time he was American with me before I was American with him.”  “I was trying to be American with him but he was too drunk.  I mean, you can’t expect a girl to be American for three hours straight!”  “Dude, she was so American with me last night it hurts to pee straight!”

Ha!  Whoever thought that being American could be this much fun?  (I did, I did!)

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  You might be wondering why this most American of entries features a freaking cavalcade of Hot Brits.  Well, in spite of the fact that today’s discussion has absolutely nothing to do with food, alcohol or mothereffing weight loss plateaus, truth is I need some serious Manspiration stat!  I’m trying to keep my spirits up and my nose to the grindstone, but the bad choices…man, they just keep coming.  Seeing as how I’m an Anglo-phile of epic proportions, I’ve hauled out my fave pics of my fave Hot Brits in an attempt to save myself from myself…how can one eat when there are such men…Becks…Gerard…Clive…OTH member Craig…and this newest crown jewel to my left, Chiwetel Ejiofor…I shall draw strength from your Hotness…I will Mancipate myself from myself on your broad shoulders, strong arms and pantydropper accents…a fellow Brit made the callow comment that has fueled this Weekly Speak…do you agree with him?  Are we American lasses too American for our own good?  I suspect most of us would be American with this Hot lot, would we not?  I would.  I’d be very American.  And I’m very good at being American.  So you boys call me, mmkay?  I’ll be waiting.

God bless America! 

Week 59: down 3.5 pounds (-57 pounds total!)  FINALLY! 

Hey kids!  As you can see I have finally(!) broken through that blasted plateau that plagued me throughout the better part of June.  How?  By hunkering down on the hooch.  Yup, I allowed myself only two days to enjoy libations, and I chose Stevie Wonder at the Bowl and Sunday afternoon at the beach (though I have to admit - because I never promised you people a rose garden! - a margarita or two might have chased me down and jumped in me hands Thursday night.  Damn you, Thursdays!  Damn you, margaritas!).  Needless to say, I’m feeling a might bit pained this morning.  It wasn’t even that I had a lot.  I didn’t.  But taking myself out of the running the rest of the week made me a cheap date, I suppose.  Whatevs.  I also had an, umm, offer from someone to, umm, make it a longer, umm, night…you’ll be happy to note that I turned said offer down, because I’m desperately in love with sleep lately (I’ve decided it is JUST as important as exercise and I’m totally cereal…the bad decisions come so easily when I’m working on less than 7 hours of zzz’s) and also because a loooooong time ago I told you kids that 2008 is all about the date…remember that?  Well, I remembered it last night.  So there.  No being American for me.  At least, not last night.  Tonight…well, that’s a whole ‘nother Oprah.

JUST KIDDING! 

Anyhoo, in getting the sleep I am desperately in love with lately I did not wake at a proper hour to write the smorgasbord of Hotness I’ve been thinking about all week.  I’ve got a few Hot Topics, just ‘lil random things I want to discuss, but I must needs ask for your patience whilst I go off, work hard for the money and then write this bad boy tonight.  But come back!  Don’t forget to come back!  You need your weekly shot of Hotness.  COME BACK!

Smell ya later…

Thursday, July 17th, 8:19 pm PST

OMFG!  WTF?!  I’M SOOOOOOO SORRY!!!!!

Kids, what can I say?  I’m an idiot.  There was SO much to do this week, I should have busted my hump to get this sucker done Monday morn.  Oh well.  It’s nice to have a little Friday morning Hot Shot, isn’t it?  Besides, we all know that good things come to those who wait.  And you’ve definitely waited!  I just hope ya’ll think it’s worth it.  It’s the most random rambling I’ve had in a while, kind of everywhere and nowhere all at once, just here for shits and giggles.  Enjoy!

Hot Topic #1 - Are you guys as in love with The Soup as I am?  Seriously, when one is staying in on Friday nights because one is trying not to drink because one is trying to lose wieght because one wants a Hot Man there’s nothing better than watching a Hot Man on tv who makes you laugh and laugh and laugh.  Joel McHale rocks my world!  If you haven’t seent this show you must watch it post-haste!  It will change your world view.  Or at least your Tyra Banks view.  (VASELINE!)

Hot Topic #2 - I hope you guys know that when I say things like “seent” and “been done” and “I’m cereal” you all understand I’m being all jokey like and whatnot.  I say this only because I’m a grammar fanatic (all misplaced commas in my writing notwithstanding) and because if I really write like that then Emory University owes me about 100 grand.  I’m still paying off that English degree…the least it can do is help a sister with her blog!  Damn!   

Hot Topic #3 - Speaking of paying off loans, Her Hotness has a new job.  I’m a bartender.  I know, I know!  What the hell am I doing?!  I’ve been trying to end my love affair with the hooch for how long now, only to let the hooch become the epicenter of my means of existence.  Ah irony, thy name is Leah.  (If you live in the LA area and want to come and ply me with tips whilst I ply thee with liquor let me know, mmkay?)

Hot Topic #4 - So, Hot Man Diet is CLEARLY a very pro-male site, would you agree?  I mean, I’ve bad mouthed some Poor Boy Choices here and there, but on the whole I speak very, very highly of the opposite sex.  Until now.  I ‘ve been thinking a lot lately about dealbreakers and I want to run a few of them by you guys so you can tell me if I’m being a crazy biotch or not.  Here goes - Driving significantly under the speed limit is a dealbreaker.  I’m cereal.  Who thinks that guy is sexy?  Who wants to rip the clothes off that dude’s overly cautious ass?  This is a new one for me, but I keep seeing it left and right on the roads these days.  Grow a pair and put your foot on the gas.  In that same vein, driving a Kia Sephia is a dealbreaker.  Seriously.  Grow a pair and buy a real car.  Ordering a drink that is both fruity AND virgin while on a date is a dealbreaker.  Only women are allowed to do fruity AND virgin.  If you need to go virgin (a dealbreaker for some of my friends, though I go back and forth on the issue…mostly because I heard that Gerard Butler is a non-hoocher and I would NEVER break that deal!) get soda or coffee or water.  This is a dealbreaker I had to put into effect some ten years ago and it STILL tops my list of the worst first date moves ever!  Grow a pair and get a real drink.  Lastly, being married and hitting on ME is a dealbreaker.  Seriously!  Stop hitting on ME!  Why ME?!  Leave ME be!  I’m like a freaking magnet for you guys…grow a pair and give ‘em to your wife only!  

Hot Topic #5 - Some of ya’ll may have noted that I did not do a Hotness All-Star Team this year.  The reason is simple - I need time to do more research.  I have been an excessively busy bee these last few months…I think I’ve watched only a handful of non-Yankee games, and almost all of them have been American League showdowns to boot.  I need more time to find the Hotness!  It’s out there…have no doubt that it is out there!  I am easing myself back into America’s favorite pastime, back into countless viewings of Sportscenter and Baseball Tonight, back into watching a game, any game, so long as it involves Hot Men and the balls they like to play with.  I will reward your patience.  And how!  How does this sound - Hot Man Diet Presents…The 2008 World Series of Hotness!  And there’s more…while last year’s hullabaloo featured players from the AL and NL on the same starting lineup of Hotness, this year I’m gonna do two separate teams!!  Each league will have their Hottest peeps hauled out for all the world to Manjoy!  What Mancandy!  What Manificence!  I Manticipate great things with this one, especially since this season seems to be rife with the kind of Hot Men who more than deserve to be my…

Hot Manspiration of the Week:  Kids, do ya know the name Josh Hamilton?  Do ya?  If not, let me introduce you.  He plays for the Texas Rangers and has been popping up on my Mandar for a few weeks now.  I spotted him in the midst of some random game some random night.  He had some late inning heroics that caught my eye and tugged at my heart…and so I did a little digging.  Seems our Josh was a first round draft pick in 1999, came out of Long Beach State (I work right down the street, go Beach!) with some of the best stuff people had seen in a loooong time, was on track to make it to the Majors but instead had a major meltdown at the hands of cocaine and alcohol.  Nasty stuff.  Kicked out of baseball for three years.  At one point was jobless and homeless.  And then he stopped.  He decided enough was enough and he turned his shit around.  He became living proof that your body, your temple (as my Secret Weapon likes to call it!), even after suffering years of abuse and misuse and flat-out punishment, can recover if you let it.  If you try.  If you save the drama for yo mama and you WORK.  If you realize you’re worth it, your life is worth it, your exceptionally talented body that is capable of SUCH amazing things is worth it, and doing the very thing you were put on this earth to do, doing it SO well and with such fanfare, earning the esteem of your colleagues and fans and being voted onto the starting lineup of the last American League All-Star Team that will ever play in The House That Ruth Built…that, all of that, is the very definition of worth it!  And though he may not know me, may not ever meet me, may never learn of my existence, I want to thank him.  He has moved me.  His story moves me.  And his success Manspires me.  Thank you!

Week 60:  up 2 pounds (-55 pounds total!)  Whaaa?!?!?!

Good morning kids.  I’m pissed.  I’m angry.  I’m pissed and angry and over myself.  It’s not yet 7 am and already this day SUCKS.  What the hell is going on with me?!  How in the hell did I gain two pounds last week?  And how do I calm the homicidal rages currently coarsing through my still waking body?!? 

Kids, last week I worked out like a mo fo!  How, how, how, why, why, why, how, why, how, why??  I was gunning for 60 pounds in 60 weeks, but this is what I get instead?  What.  The.  F%*k.  What the f*ck!!!!!!

AAAARRGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

HMD’ers, I was totally planning on writing something else this morning.  I had an entry half finished that was all about embracing change.  I was gonna talk about how my life has kind of upended itself in the last four days, what with the addition of a new job on my already full schedule.  I was gonna talk about how nervous I am taking on so much work and giving up so much playtime.  I was gonna talk about how this new schedule means I can only meet with my Secret Weapon once a week, and how much the thought of doing that completely freaks me out.  But then I was gonna talk about how change is good, that things cannot stay stagnant, that challenge must be accepted and embraced, that this is all a means to an end.  And then I was gonna pull out one of my fave quotes - ”That which does not kill me shall only make me stronger.”  But then I stepped on the scale…

And now I’m over it.  I’m over it.  Right now, at this moment, I’m over it.  I’m not quitting…I’m sure you people wouldn’t let me quit.  But I’m so over thinking about food and about alcohol and writing down every morsel that I eat and busting my ass working out (six days I worked out last week - SIX DAYS!!!) and buying everything lowfat and organic and regarding every social event with dread and as a potential weight-loss spoiler and measuring things and looking up new healthy recipes so I won’t get bored and yeah, maybe I really liked the asparagus potato soup I had last night for dinner but still, STILL, STILL, STILL, aarrrghhh, still I just want to take everything in my pantry and my fridge and I want to hurl it out the window and I want to go to the nearest McDonald’s with a bottle of Patron and the sugariest, yummiest margarita mix I can put in my grubby little hands and I want to spend the rest of this week, this over-scheduled, no fun on the horizon, work, work and more work week, eating Big Macs and Filet o’ Fish sandwiches and drinking the strongest, yummiest margaritas I can possibly make!!!  I want to chain myself to one of those neon effing tables and super size myself into oblivion whilst all around me fat children and their fat mothers scream and play and Happy Meal themselves into type 2 diabetic heaven…just let me, just let me go, let me go and anesthetize myself against this cruel, cruel world with food, glorious food…this is what I WANT to do….because the other is too hard, it’s too hard, so hard, too, too hard…and I can’t…not this morning…not anymore…I can’t…

Whatever, I know I CAN…but I just don’t feel like it.

So this one is not gonna end on a good note.  I’m not gonna sit here and make any promises, I’m not gonna dig deep and soldier on, I’m not gonna pull out one of my effing annoying quotes, I’m not going to come to any kind of tidy happy ending,  I’m not gonna talk about Manjoyment or Mancandy or Manticipation, I’m not gonna trot out my tagline to remind myself of why I’m doing all this shit, I don’t even really have the stomach to sit here and slobber over a Hot Manspiration of the Week.  So I’m not.  Instead, you get one pic.  One pic.  The one and only pic that might be able to talk me off the ledge.  The one and only pic that might give me enough…something to keep on trucking.  The one and only pic that might get me back here next week.  The one and only pic that might get me back here next week with some good news.  The one and only pic that might work. 

Please work!! 

Week 61: down 4.5 pounds (-59.5 pounds total!)

Hey kids!  I hope this midday posting finds you all happy, healthy and wise.  I myself am on the recovering end of a seriously turbulent week…last Monday’s vitriolic entry was just the beginning.  Speaking of, I’d like to thank all the HMD’ers who stepped forward and offered Her Hotness emotional support and encouragement.  It was much needed and well heeded.  Thank you!

As the title indicates, I’ve spent a good bit of time this week trying to get down to the heart of the matter.  I caught the song - which I adore, thank you Don Henley! - on the radio last Tuesday and some of the lyrics have been spilling about my brain again and again.  “I’ve been trying to get down to the heart of the matter, but my will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter.”  And how!  Kids, we all know that Her Hotness is searching for her happiness.  And while I understand that search will be a lifelong endeavor, I oftentimes wonder if I’m doing enough to get there.  You know what I mean?  I have big dreams.  I have huge goals.  I have talent and education and, when pressed, willpower.  I can envision myself achieving these dreams and goals romantically, physically and professionally.  And yet I feel a chasm separates the happiness I picture in my head and the life I am currently leading.  There are times when I simply feel horribly off track.  I feel my will getting weak.  I see my thoughts scattering.  I become unable to see the forest for the trees.  And I get very sad.  That was me this past week. 

“I’ve been tryin to get down to the heart of the matter, but my will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter but I think it’s about forgiveness.”

Forgiveness.  Ahhh, Leah, so very, very, very HARD on yourself!  Screw the trees and take a look at the forest, for the forest is healthy and vibrant and strong!  The forest is smart, smart enough to know when it really is horribly off-track.  (I had to quit the bartending job, kids…after three shifts and two crying spells I knew there was something rotten about that place of employ.)  The forest is focused, focused enough to recover from last week’s disappointing showing with some kickass results. 

But is that enough?  Is applauding myself on an occasional basis really enough to forgive?  How do I truly forgive?  How do I allow myself to love my self and to love every last nook and cranny of this kooky little life that I’ve created and that I deserve to delight in?  

One answer - by drinking.  Ha!  Just kidding.  I actually think I might have this one figured out a bit.  I think it might be enough to simply live my life to the best of my abilities, to make as many good choices as I can possibly make, to understand that some less than good choices WILL be made, to love and value my family and my family of friends, to work hard, to laugh, to laugh, to laugh, to laugh!  I mean, I have lost almost 60 effing pounds!  Surely, I must have figured some of this shit out!  I just refuse to give myself the credit.  That’s gotta change.

I do think it is about forgiveness.  Forgiveness and happiness.  The one must be given in order for the other to be received.  And so I see my new task unfolding…a heady one, to be sure, but nothing I can’t do…in the meantime, let’s hear it for the girl - go Leah, go Leah, go Leah, GO LEAH!

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  These poor guys.  I had them all tapped and ready for last week, only to shove them aside for Gerard Butler in a violent move of desperation.  So not fair! 

Ya’ll know that I am a HUGE fan of the movie Something New.  I’ve discussed it a gajillion times because I adore, adore, adore it!  I own it, of course, and pulled it out a while ago when Manspiration was running low.  Did it deliver!  Besides the jaw dropping, heart stopping wonder that is Simon Baker, the movie also offers the suave, sophisticated Hot of Blair Underwood and the good times, good times Hot of Donald Faison.  A potent trifecta of Hotness, the perfect answer to a weakening resolve, three Hot Manna from Heaven…what more could one girl axe for?

Coming this week: Hot Man Diet Requests and Dedications - July.  Don’t miss out!!