DAY 1: Mini Shovel of French Fries

Is there a secret foghorn application on my Blackberry? Disclaimer: choose the alarm tone on your phone wisely or else risk the chance of going deaf every time you roll out of bed. I’ve always said that waking up in the morning was dangerous, but my recent 5:45 a.m. foghorns prove that point loud and clear (all puns intended). Part of my new-found hearing loss could be due to the fact that my manipulative little snooze button tricks me into making at least three repeat offenses with each sunrise that passes. But hey, being on time in Los Shangeles is like finding a man who refuses to watch porn; it’s never going to happen. 5:45 a.m. slowly turns into 7:00 and 7 o’clock decides to ditch its 59-minute counterpart. For the life of me I still don’t understand why it’s so important for the day to reach 8:00 a.m. this quickly? [Insert “dad-joke” here] You know like: “Where’s the fire?” I know, totally uncalled for and moving on…

Here’s the thing, I created this 5:45 a.m. death alarm for good intentions. You could ask is 5:45 a.m. ever used for bad intentions? The answer to that question is without a doubt gender-specific ;) Anyway, the plan was to spring out of bed with my long blonde locks flowing and working together in perfect harmony; my skin naturally flawless like an air-brushed magazine cover and my mood as pleasant as Ryan Philippe’s face in Cruel Intentions. But even in Los Shangeles, reality occasionally sneaks up on you and it’s time to face the facts. My long blonde hair (some of which is mine and some of which was so kindly given to me for a hefty sum) wrapped around my face like vines of ivy. My skin was radiating all right, but I don’t think that spots of red are as close to honey nude on the color wheel as I’d like it to be? As for my mood…how many “pleasant” retainer-wearing 26-year-olds do you come across at 5:45 in the morning? I rest my case. With that being said, can you really blame me for taking a rain check on my Burn60 cardio date? Burn60 gym—Kristin Cavalleri’s personal fave…yeah, I’ll pass on this given morning but thanks for the offer. Slight depression caused by an ex Laguna Beach star all before I’ve had my morning coffee is EXACTLY how I prefer to start the day. Let’s forget about Kristin Cavalleri though, the girl gets enough praise for all of the good deeds she’s already done for humanity (silence). Bottom line: Day 1 didn’t exactly start as according to plan.

I was sitting at work when I could have sworn that Los Shangeles had just been hit with the “next big quake,” but then I quickly realized it was just my stomach reminding me about how angry it was for not feeding it yet. I fought back and let my tummy know that it was bringing more attention to itself than Lady Gaga at a convent; and that it better play the silent game indefinitely if we were to become model-thin in only 60 days. It continued to rumble like thunder for the next hour. I’m pretty sure it was digestive-talk for “I hate you Shan Fran!” However, I said I wanted to become a 49er Gold Rush Girl, not the poster child for anorexia (because that’s an original approach in this town). So I grabbed an oatmeal and green tea and told myself that I was smart, beautiful and amazing—Day 1 was not going to defeat me! I know it may seem ironic, being that I’m about to embark on a two-month long journey that I’m sure some women would see as 100% superficial and pointless, but I do actually know how to achieve this. That’s why I’m doing this, because I know I can accomplish anything I put my mind to. Because what’s the worst that can happen? I get in shape, stay healthy and rid myself of a few worries? Hey it may be a bit extreme but I’ll take it. If I was perfect what would I aim for?

I let the sun warm my skin as strolled down Robertson on my way to the lunch meeting I had with a talent agent and former colleague of mine. I proceeded to lecture myself and the pesky little food devil that prefers to sit upon not just one, but both of my shoulders. “Shan, you’re going to order a salad…NO DRESSING…and for god sake whatever you do, DO NOT pick from her plate!!!” I was stoked to see the array of salad options on the menu. Who knew lettuce could be prepared so many different ways? I mean we were dining in Beverly Hills; leafy flavorless greens are quite popular in demand! So I stuck to my guns and was almost out of no-man’s land when my thoughtful lunch guest decided to ask me the million-dollar question. “Do you want to share fries?” Umm, is this a rhetorical question? Did Captain set you up to this? He’s around here isn’t he? Knowing Captain he’s probably in the kitchen double-deep-frying our so-called shared fries. I say “so-called shared” because put an order of fries in between someone and myself and try, just try to tell me that this isn’t a race and we’re not being timed on performance? I’m telling you if you’re anything like me, “efficiency,” can apply to just about everything! I told myself that self-control does exist and there’s no reason why I can’t become its biggest fan…then proceeded to eat one-third of the fries. I figure anything under half was an improvement right? I left what was actually a very successful business lunch dwelling on the fact that I hadn’t worked out today and had just traded in my salad fork for a mini shovel made out of French fries. Normally the thought of Captain’s pregnant soon-to-be-wife would comfort me in a time like this; but I’m almost positive that the food-love-child growing in my stomach currently outweighs her real-life fetus at this point.

Back to work I went. Only to walk into an office full of Shan Francisco support; “support” in the context that if I were trying out for the future self-induced diabetics club there’s no way I could fail. I mean there were cookies, candy and bowls of popcorn all around me. The only thing missing was a personalized card from Captain saying, “best of luck Shan!” At this rate, I’m sure it’s around here somewhere. I dug my hands into the bowl of popcorn as if it was my first time trick-or-treating. If you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em right? The day is winding down, which means it’s about time to cash in that gym rain check I spoke about earlier. Totally discouraged from Day 1’s events, a full-body fitness overhaul right now is about as appealing as losing your virginity to Danny DeVito. On the bright side, my little sister called and pumped me up about the dance she choreographed to get me moving again. She let me know that the time had come to break a sweat…total negative-Nancy crisis adverted. Thanks, Lo!

So here’s the deal folks, becoming a 49er Gold Rush Girl is no joke! I’ve got a lot of work to do and the clock isn’t exactly on my side, but I couldn’t be more excited about challenge. Just think about all that I’m going to learn and do. Stay tuned because tomorrow I’m finding a nutritionist. I know it may seem like a bit much to hire someone to tell you what Author, Michael Pollan says so well, “Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” Have wiser words ever been spoken? Well maybe the following: Don’t worry Captain, I’ll make sure to shoot you a wink from the 50-yard line ;)

Kisses!
Shan Francisco