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Oct 06
Where My People At?! Posted by Leah

I am giggling.

It’s 5 pm on a Wednesday evening and I am drinking a glass of red wine and giggling.

The Yankees begin their quest for a World Series repeat in a half hour and I am in front of the computer drinking a glass of red wine and giggling.

I am not drunk.  But I am giggling.


Because I’m baaaaaaaaaccccckkkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m giggling because you thought I was gone, admit it you totally thought I was gone but I’m NOT!  I’m back!

And I’m giggling because I am HAPPYSOHAPPYFREAKINGECSTATICOVERJOYED to be back, to be here, to be present and accounted for and all right and all ready and here just here here here here here here!  Back where I belong! 

Jete’s happy, too.  Just look at that picture.  Sigh…

Hot Manspiration Derek Jeter

One question - where my people at?  I know I left, I know I ran away but I’m back and I wonder if you’re with me?  Do you feel me?  Can you hop back on this Hotness train and ride it ’till we (someday) go off into the sunset?  Can you?  I know it’s a bumpy ride, full of highs and lows, but you know you love it.  How could you not?  The conductors are hotttttttttt!

Consider this baptism by wine.  As I sit here giggling and the Yankees march down Repeat Street, this glass of red wine finds me in a new place with a new life, everything completely changed, everything completely different save but one thing - the Hotness.  How can I truly begin anew without the Hotness?  I can not!

So here we are.  Let me tell you about my life now - I’ve left the LBC (so much drama!) and find myself ensconced in the quiet hum of suburbia.  I’m living with the RLHM. 


Yup, since last I wrote the ex and I unwound that wicked web we had weaved and got back to the business of falling in love.  And here we remain, tucked away in South Orange County, him dealing with the addition of woman and dog into his very bachelor-fied existence, me finally having the freedom (and strength) to pursue acting full-time.


Yup, it’s true.  Amazing things can happen when you let love in your life.

As for the Hotness…well…let’s just say we’ve got our work cut out for us.  You don’t go from being coupled to being single to being re-coupled and living together without a scar or two.  And my “scars” always land on my hips.  This time is no different. 

So I’m back!  Bigger and badder than ever, ready to take this itty bitty world by storm…and yes, I am just getting warm…

(If you don’t recognize that last reference, get thee some LL Cool J STAT!)

Hot Man LL Cool J

Meet me here first thing next Monday morning.  There is much to be done.  Let’s get this party started!!!!!


Oct 11
Knock You Out Posted by Leah

Calling all Hot Man Dieteers!  Calling all Hot Man Dieteers!

Whattup kids?  Did ya’ll have a Mantastic weekend as instructed.  I sure as hell did.  The Yankees sweep!  Ttttthhhhheeeeee Yankees sweep!!

How fitting to begin my comeback road to glory alongside my pinstriped dream team.  Impeccably timed.  I love it.

But here’s the rub - I shouldn’t call this a comeback.  I’ve been here for years.  And while my commitment has waxed and waned, the main objective has never changed.  It is as simple a truth as ere there ever was.  Nothing tastes as good as a Hot Man feels.  Nothing.  No french fry.  No margarita.  No pizza slice or pasta dish.  Nothing by Mario or Giada or Ina or Nigella.  Nothing locally grown or sustainable or organic.  Nothing vegan or meaty or gluten free.  Nothing.  Nothing.  Nothing.  NOTHING tastes as good as a Hot Man feels!!!!

But if the truth is that simple, why is the execution SO hard?!!  How does the Hotness get lost when food choices are made?  Why do I seek comfort instead?  I am reminded of a quote from a dear friend, who was herself quoting a speaker at a poetry reading - what has ever come of comfort?  NOTHING.  Nothing that tastes as good as a Hot Man feels!!!  Besides, don’t we sometimes need, don’t we flat out crave things that are hard?!

I know I do.

The other day the RLHM (Real Life Hot Man) and I were watching The Next Karate Kid (whatevs, don’t judge) and I woke up from my mid-movie nap (okay, I’ll admit it kinda bit) just in time for the “let me get my act together before this kung-fu tournament” montage.  You know the drill, lots of quickly edited scenes of the Will Smith’s chitlin working his tail off, ferociously prepping for his inevitable personal redemption.  I turned to the RLHM and joked that I need a montage.  It’s time.  I need some quickly edited scenes of me working my tail off (literally), ferociously prepping for my inevitable personal redemption.  And while I may not be able to practice high kicks whilst perched on the Great Wall of China (honestly, they had Fresh Prince Jr. practicing high kicks on the Great Wall of China!) I can definitely dig deep and knock it out.  I can make the hard choices.  I’ve done it before.  I can forego the immediate gratification of false comfort for actual, long-term ease.  I’ve done it before.  I can get to the gym or the pool or the tennis court or even the freaking sidewalk.  I’ve done it before.  There is nothing standing in my way.  NOTHING.  At least nothing that tastes as good as a Hot Man feels. 

So this is how it’s gonna go down - every Monday I’ll “weigh in”, talking about all the various and sundry thoughts swirling about me head.  Every Friday I’ll actually weigh in, giving you a nice shot of Hotness to carry you through the weekend.  I’m here, kids.  I’m here to prove to you that I’m not just blowing Hot air into the blogosphere.  I’m gonna knock you out.  Her Hotness said knock you out!

Hot Man Steve McQueen

Hot Manspiration of the Week:  This week’s Manspiration actually comes courtesy of the RLHM.  We were chatting on the patio last night when he brought up the movie The Tao of Steve (a virtual gem of a film when compared to the aforementioned kung-fu snoozefest) and I realized with horror that I’ve never featured Steve McQueen on Hot Man Diet!!!  Whaaaa?!?!?!?  Holy crap, talk about an oversight.  Steve McQueen was the coolest!  He was badass!!  So rugged, so manly, so mothereffing HOT!  Hmmm…I’d like to knock him out…

Confession #1:  The last time I posted a weigh-in was January 19th.  At that time I was down a total of 38 pounds.

Confession #2:   At my smallest, I had lost a total of 66 pounds.  That was February 2009.

Confession #3:   I am deeply embarrassed by the results of today’s weigh-in.

Confession #4:  As of this morning I am down a scant total of 19.5 pounds.


Confession #5:  I kinda feel like crying.


But I can’t.  Okay, I totally could, but I won’t.  Nope, I won’t. 

I’m also not gonna sit here and give you guys some pat “here’s how I’m gonna FIX this” bullshit line.  I don’t really know how to fix this.  Everything I write that is inspired or feisty or gusty feels incredibly false at the moment.  I have to admit that I screwed up.  I don’t want to harp on it, because my god but we’re all human every once in a while.  But in this instance and in this matter I screwed up.  And I’m really fucking angry!  But I have to let the anger go…have to let the anger go…so hard to be angry at oneself…so hard…

How about this deal - maybe this week Leah takes a breather and chills for a bit.  Maybe this week Her Hotness needs to swoop in and save the day?  Maybe this week the fierce, fabulous, fictional alter ego can take one for the team and get the bruised, shaken blogger back on a good foot?  Stranger things have happened, right?  Just as long as I don’t turn into Sybil…

*** Note from Her Hotness ***

I’m in charge now?  Aw hell yes!  It’s time for a serious attitude check.  Save the drama for your mama and WORK IT!  That girl…she’s always so quick to debunk the junk in her trunk when she needs to just rock it!  Roll it!  LOVE IT!  ‘Cause that’s the only way she’s ever gonna be able to really control it.  You kids go out and have yourselves a fabulous weekend!  Don’t you worry about us.  I’ve got this Hot Mess under control.  And I will NOT let her mopey moperton ass punch out a similarly morose entry next Monday morning.  Aw hell no!  This is the land of milk and Hotness.  And there’s no crying in Hotness!  I must away, for there is MUCH work to be done… 

HMD’ers, can we talk?

Hurry, come close!  There isn’t much time… 

Her Hotness has her work cut out for her.  Remember, this is MY week to try and get this sinking ship back on a Hot path.  Dearies, we spent Saturday night at Oktoberfest.  OKTOBERFEST!  You know how much she loves Oktoberfest.  And you know what they DO at Oktoberfest!  Drink, drink, drink!  Beer after beer after beer.  Oh kiddies, how I didn’t want to FAIL you!  But I was outManned!  And I had been doing SO WELL, had managed to soothe and calm her enough after Friday’s entry to hit the gym.  She worked SO hard, I was as proud as a peacock.  Special thanks to Christina Aguilera’s “Dirrty”.  For some reason it stirred the sexy beast inside my mistress and she pounded the treadmill mightily, a blazing warrior queen off to re-claim her throne of Hotness.  It was Manificent!  So much so that Saturday found us there again, with nary a pep talk nor bribe needed.  We cheered her on, Talent and Ambition and I…we cheered her on…

AND THEN SHE WENT TO THAT BLASTED BEERFEST!!!  One day I must speak with these Germans.  Drinko de Mayo is hard enough to deal with.  Why have they saddled me with another plague de hooch?  Do they not understand the laws of Hotness?  Have they never seen George Clooney? 

And so this morning finds us at it again.  She was all “I don’t wanna write!” and I was all “OMG, you HAVE to write!” and she was all “NO!” and I was all “YOU WILL, YOU WILL, YOU WILL!” and she’s avoiding me like a mo fo, playing with the dog and doing the dishes and plucking her eyebrows and I have had it, completely HAD IT! and my hair is askew and my nails are chipped and bleeding, but my spirit is not broken, hell no, for this is an epic battle of Mantacular proportions and I intend to WIN!  She can spend the rest of her life hating me, but by all that is Hot in this world I intend to win!!!

We are off to the gym, so help me God.  We will see you Friday.  Oktoberfest, my ass…

Hot Manspiration of the Week:  Well, I couldn’t leave this part out!  I suppose the one good thing to came out of hangover Sunday was the shot of Hotness that is Sam Worthington in Avatar.  Granted, he was a blue CGI creature for much of the film.  But the few fleeting moments of Sam as Actual Hot Man were worth it.  Word on the street is this bite of Mancandy also sports an Australian accent.  Love it!  We shall have to see more of him.  Without the blue.

Hot Man Sam Worthington


Oct 22

Weekly Hot-O-Meter Reading:  partly sunny with a loss of 1.5 pounds (-21 lbs. total!)


As ya’ll know, last week I was a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown.  Today finds me much better off, thanks to some serious pumping of iron at the gym.  My butt-numbing, gut-wrenching, soul-crushing workouts (I’m cereal, I was effing working up in that gym!) are the ONLY reason I posted a loss today.  This week was hard, ya’ll.  I had a serious enemy to contend with.  And what was the Hot Man Diet Foe of the Week?  Cheese.

Maybe it was hormonal, maybe emotional, who knows.  Some medical web sites say it might indicate an adrenal or thyroid issue.  In any event, I have wanted cheese every minute of every day for the past week and a half.  I wake up with a taste for cheese.  At night I crave cheese over chocolate.  It’s bad, ya’ll!  Why can’t I ever feel this way about broccoli?!

I’ve had similar cravings in the past, but was able to stave them off by simply banning cheese from the house.  If I needed some for a meal I bought exactly the amount needed and no more.  Abstinence due to absence.  It (mostly) worked.

But now that I am co-habitating, all bets are off.  We have a fully stocked fridge (just like most normal adults), and all my bad habits are being tested left and right.  Don’t believe me?  Ha!  The following is a list of all the cheese we currently have in the house -  pepper jack, havarti with dill, English stilton, goat, feta, gorgonzola, cream, shredded mozzarella, shredded Mexican blend, shredded cheddar, cotija and even those blasted individually wrapped American cheese slices!  Add to that list an $18/pound parmigiano reggiano and a huge block of the most luxuriously sharp English white cheddar I’ve ever tasted and you’ve got a veritable CHEESE-TASTROPHE!!!

Chester was right, man.  It ain’t easy being cheesy.  But alls we can do is keep on keeping on.  Fight the good fight, hold steady on the course, and wait for these mothertrucking cravings to END! 

They will end…right?

Hot Man Chester Cheeto

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