Showing posts with label Piglet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Piglet. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Fat Butt

Close your refrigerators! Lock your pantries! Smart Cookie is on the loose (like how I talk about myself in the third person? I actually have a student that started doing this last week and it is HILARIOUS! He's all like, C is doing his work! C likes this book! LMFAO) and is eating EVERYTHING in sight.

Cookies, I don't know what is wrong with me. Really? If the doctor wouldn't have told me that I have almost no chance of getting pregnant on my own, I would think I was pregnant. Yesterday, I had an almost compulsive urge for sugar. Hard-core, straight-on sugar. After frosting, straight from the jar, and a jaunt to Taco Bell, I was sure I had satisfied my craving. But no. No, no, no. Today, I have been a fat girl again, and I have been eating non-stop. Can we say pint of ice cream?

What could it be? I feel better than I have in weeks! There has been a detente in the battle between the LeDouchetards and myself. Holy sweet molasses! We have compromised our academic standards, our former policies and procedures, and a wee smidge of our dignity to remedy the situation. But really? My principal could tell me to salute Mrs. LeDouchetard while standing on one foot and singing "Womanizer" -AND I WOULD DO IT. I swear, cookies, for the first time SINCE OCTOBER, I am actually happy about my job. It's only been two days so I don't want to get too excited about it. Because I know that sometimes, when Smart Cookie is happy (I'm loving this!), that is when the shit is getting ready to hurl itself at the fan. But. BUT. I am willing to cherish this moment of bliss, no matter how short-lived it may be.

Anyhoodle, I am at a loss. I want to get to my happy weight (people have different opinions about this calculator -some think the suggested happy weights are too high, some people think the suggested weights are too low. But like Goldilocks, I think it's just right), but it seems to be impossible -especially in light of my recent eating habits.

To be honest, I know that compared to the average population, I would be considered thin. And I have been working on having a healthier body image. I love my arms and my legs. I just have a problem with the roll of jelly I've got jiggling in my belly. Any suggestions? The bitch of it all is that I know I can't spot tone my belly. But it's really the only part of my body that upsets me (at the moment). And before you get all judgemental, like, Why is she worried about showing her belly? Is this bitch going out in midriff baring tops? Doesn't she watch What Not to Wear? Please remember that I live in Miami, where beaches and bikinis are a thankful inevitablility.

But back to the eating? It's a vicious cycle. I eat like a pig. Weigh myself in the morning. Get discouraged. Question the wisdom of working out. Then eat like a pig again.

Ugh. I've got get a hold of myself.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

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.