|Oops, I did it again.|
I've thought about what to say in this post for a long time (At least for the whole 5 hour-long, hard ride home) and I'm a wee bit stumped. The whole "What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas" mantra is starting to make more sense. Mostly b/c Vegas is a "You had to be there" experience. For example, if you weren't there, then "cookie" is not the funniest word on planet
Another example: For those who weren't lucky enough to be there, "Britney Gollum" doesn't invoke an eye-scorching image of torturous proportions. Cuz, you had to be there.
Same goes for "Eddie Bauer limited edition".
Thus the line should be rephrased to: "What happens in Vegas, only makes sense if you were there too."
But this is an exercise and diet blog, so I'll get on with it.
My goal this week was to maintain, don't gain. I am SO glad there wasn't a scale at the Vegas house, b/c I was not a good girl--diet-wise. I know I said I would be, but according to the diet gods I ate some blasphemous foods .
Bad things I ate:
- chocolate and almond-covered toffee
- 2 soft-ball sized apple-crumble muffins
- the best cheesy Italian bread in all 50 states
- only one bite of the chocolate raspberry cake (which could've been Sin City's theme cake.)
- A sandwich so big that one VV said, "I'm gonna send a picture of you eating that to REDBOOK."
- several lollipops (But the VV's had their fair share too.)
- A huge sugary, caloric smoothie
- a few sweet-potatoe fries (AWEsome)
- something Asian (Then I got a massage)
- 4 dark chocolate eggs
- Dancing, both country line and free style.
- a dance class (This workout was almost as good as if I had jogged a 5K in support single moms.)
- squats in
- and walking to and from the poolside chaise was rough too. (does lotioning count? I got a kick butt tan too, btw.)
I dunno. I'm too scared to get on the scale. I'll let you know on Monday. I feel skinny. [weak smile] Someone called me "petite" for the first time in my life. That counts for something, right?? And a drunk guy called me "gorgeous", but he was pretty smashed, so he might've thought I was Betty Page for all I know.