Welcome to the Good, the Fat and the Hungry. I'm Karla and I have been -- or am -- all those things. Here, I will share with you my lifelong struggle with my weight, and I hope you'll follow along on with my determined attempt to lose the last 40 pounds. I promise to tell you every Wednesday about every win and setback along the way.

OK, people. Here I go. My first Weight Watchers meeting is Thursday night. And I am nervous as hell. I can't say exactly why since I've successfully done Weight Watchers before. But I am. I have stepped on enough scales in my lifetime with many different emotions, but nothing beats the excitement I've felt weighing in at a meeting after a good week and seeing the minus sign in the total-loss column. I also haven't forgotten the frustration I would feel on weeks when the weight held a plus sign, meaning I'd gained. Even that was not a bad experience. It always motivated me to stay on the wagon and do all I could to see that precious minus sign again.

I'd love to say that I just took off running with it, but Weight Watchers was not unlike most projects that I start and don't finish. I start all things gung-ho because of the organization process. That is my favorite part. I begin with charts, graphs, analyses and labeled index cards in prep for the exercise itself. Putting things together excites me. But once I have completed that phase, boredom sets in. That zest for the project itself goes right out the window. I'm organized and ready now! Oh, you mean I actually have to do the project? What a novel idea.

Due to my great love of order and process, my previous experience with WW was good. I embraced the point system and had it down to a science. All food in my pantry was labeled with point values for quick calculation and ease of balancing meals. I kept an impeccable journal and even bought the points calculator and dining-out guide. All this being said, I know exactly when, why and how I fell off.

I started WW with a goal. I had planned a trip to California with my Dad. My goal quite simply was to fit into an airplane seat -- one airplane seat. I also wanted to avoid the humiliation of asking for a seat belt extender. Having a goal kept me working at it. I was committed and thrilled with my results. I lost nearly 70 pounds. I worked hard and took the trip -- in a single seat. Even though I still needed the extender, I was happy. So happy, in fact, that when I came back, I never saw WW again. What I did see again were the pounds I'd lost.

Not this time. I'm not driven by any one specific event, but I am driven. I have one goal in mind this time around -- to stay out of fat-girl hell. That's not as specific as an airplane seat, but in my mind, it's a whole lot bigger. When I'm honest with myself, my size 12 jeans are just a little bit tighter. I have backed up one belt notch and that's not good. Size 14 is size 12's cousin, and I have vowed to never see plus-size anything ever again. If Weight Watchers can help me do that, sign me up.