Another Day, Another Persona

We had a kickass Karaoke Apocalypse show last night at The Tiniest Bar in Texas. Damn, there were some good costumes out there last night: Catwoman, fancy pirates, a Jesuit priest, a giant banana, Paul Stanley from Kiss, the dude from Eraserhead complete with creepy baby, Jessica Rabbit, Hercule Poirot, the Greatest American hero, She-Hulk… it was awesome to be on stage and look out at the crowd of fantasy-come-to-life.

Don’t make the Warrior Princess angry!My friend Cathlin came to the party as “Melicious Intent,” the #1 fan of Melicious. She was hilarious… running on stage to attack me with hugs and screams throughout the night. She even had Melicious fan club name tags and a baggie with a lock of my hair! My very own stalker; I’m so pleased.
She really nailed my bratty pose!

Tyler, a.k.a, Tinman and our Karaoke Apocalypse drummer Adam (Ant). He doesn’t usually wear that beaded necklace.
Chris our bass player, always beautiful but especially stunning last night. I wish you could see her striped knee socks with the bow and heart-shaped button at the top. Divine!
And Chepo, our rhythm guitarist, sporting a killer look. His Jason mask was made from the same mold used to make the original mask in the third installment of Friday the 13th. It was deliciously creepy.
Our incredibly talented lead guitarist Lisa was decked out in a kickass Wolfman get-up, but I am sadly lacking photographic evidence. If anyone out there has a photo, please send it my way.

Oh! I’m pleased to report that I had one cocktail only (!), then drank water for the rest of the evening in anticipation of my Weight Watchers weigh-in this morning. (I did split a Reese’s peanut butter cup with Dave, however. I’d been handing out candy all night and I really, really wanted it. And it was really, really good.)

I lost one pound — that annoying, nasty one pound that I gained in the wake of my mom’s visit a few weeks ago, the result of four days of cocktails, Tex-Mex, and pretending I have the metabolism of a completely different person. So, once again, I’m a mere point-four pounds from my Weight Watchers goal. If I’m still that close when I step on the scale next week, I’m chopping off my hair RIGHT THERE ON THE SCALE to get to my goal.

OK. Not really. But I do want to get that stupid number tackled so I can get on with the business of reaching my next goal. Jeez, Louise! Who knew losing six freakin’ ounces of fat could be so hard?!

Anyway, I hate to be all hung up on the scale, but there’s a reason. Six weeks after reaching goal weight, Weight Watchers members become “Lifetime.” As long as we stay within two pounds of our WW goal weight, we can attend meetings for free, receive all the new WW materials and information, and generally gloat about how awesome it is to be Lifetime.

I want that.

It’s been four long years of faithful Saturday meeting attendance, food logging, workout tracking, and generally monitoring everything I do in pursuit of my lifelong goal of being a “normal weight.” None of those habits will change once I’m Lifetime, but I want that title so I can celebrate.

And so I can focus on my next goal: banishing another 10 pounds and some yet-to-be-determined percentage of body fat while I continue to work on handstands, pullups, jumping on the big box, and vaulting over obstacles both literal and metaphorical.