Pretty Perfect Perfection

This past Sunday, our flight from Newark to Miami was delayed. We were supposed to depart at 5:25 on Flight 1643 -thanks Expedia for failing to mention our flight number had changed and sending me into a tailspin of panic, but our departure time was changed so many times we didn't end up boarding the plane until 10, and taking off until 10:30. That's a five hour difference, my friends, AND I had to work the next morning.

Luckily, J. and I had checked our departure time before arriving to the airport and were able to chill out at his brother's house instead of at the airport. J.'s a smoker, blech, gross. And I know that if he had been cooped up for five hours plus a three hour flight without nicotine, all hell would've broken loose.

Anyway, although I had washed my hair the previous night, I hadn't had time to blow dry it, so it looked a little frizzy. That coupled with the fact that I was wearing softees, a Victoria's Secret Pink collegiate t-shirt, my converse, and a hoodie, meant that I wasn't looking my best. I was obviously dressed for comfort. Some of the people on my flight were in their pajamas. And, I'm not talking toddlers. I'm talking grown ass people traveling in their jammies.

I mean, I wasn't hideous, but I would've definitely hidden if I would've seen someone I knew. My mom always says you should go out dressed as if you are going to run into an ex-boyfriend. Well, none of my ex-boyfriends live in the tri-state area.

So, as I am waiting for our flight, I see this girl. You know, the kind that always looks effortlessly put together. The way you want to look, but only end up looking like on a very good hair day. And it's not that she's perfect, but that she's imperfectly perfect. And, jeez it's annoying. She was wearing jeans, a white tank, and a black cardigan. She had on one of those huge, super chic watches. Her hair was impeccably straight, like if she had just ironed it, but not really because it didn't look too done, and it was casually thrown back in a ponytail. She carried a really big orange leather purse, which on someone less fabulous would've looked cheap. And this is the clincher -a red CNN bag. A red frickin' CNN bag. And she made it look uber cool. Like, all of a sudden I really wanted a CNN bag.

And I so want to be that girl! I make every attempt. Highlights? Check. Mani/Pedi? Check. Cute clothes? Check. Oversize bag? Check. But somehow, it never adds up. And that's okay, I guess. In the end, it's not so bad being this girl. The one I am.

Fatty McButterpants

So. None of my clothes fit. Well, none of my clothes that have zippers and a button and are required to close around the general vicinity of my mid-section. Otherwise known as pants. Or shorts. Or skirts.

That’s not entirely true. I can zip and button myself, but not without worrying that someone is going to ask me if I want jelly with my muffins. :(

In the past two weeks, I have eaten, or should I say inhaled, 2 pints of ice cream, 1 1/2 lbs of fudge, 4 candy bars, 4 s'mores, marshmallow candies, and as I type this I'm trying not to get Doritos on the keyboard.

I wish I were pregnant so I could at least console myself by saying I was eating for two, but the only other person I'm feeding is Mr. Pudge, the circle of fat that's hanging out right below my belly button.

Do you think I can pull a Mariah Carey and just cut off the waistband of my pants a la Heartbreak video, or just stick to wearing elastic waist pants a la Golden Girls?

Honest to blog, I am going with option B. I'm too fat and too tired to cut the tops off all my pants. Check out Exhibit A, elastic waist shorts. Thank heaven for softees.

The only good thing is that my boobs are HUGE, GINORMOUS, GARGANTUAN! Well, they're big to me. My husband J. likes to say that they used to be like grapes, but now they are like oranges. If I keep gaining weight I'll have canteloupes before the year is over.

I need to get back on diet and exercise plan, STAT. I am going to start spinning today. I hope I don't pass out and die.

Bloggity Blog, Blog!

Guess who has two thumbs and has a blog? ME, mothercluckers! I am bursting with fruit flavor. This is my first blog, and it will be -blog-a-licious, blog-tastic, blog-a-rific! So put your big girl panties on, and get ready -because I am bringing it. Oh, yes!