Family, Food, Facebook, Fat, Fuck.

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"Go on, take the money and run."

Wait, what? There's a woman shaped like me on a magazine cover? A fitness magazine cover?

The hell? Is that even legal? Holy shit, is the world ending?

I'd already been feeling fairly decent about my body lately...but THIS?

Damn, I'm an American woman whose self-esteem seems to be hovering around normal -- someone better send out a rep from Corprate to shut that shit down.

That's probably why there are ads inside the magazine, just to remind me that I am, in fact, too big for my britches.

It's possible I'm too old to twerk...

Well... I mean, come on... It's been far too long since I've publicly embarrassed myself.

Frisky Friday: Girls Night Out Striptease Dance Party:

In case you don't have Facebook (and GOOD for you, fight the power!), there's more info on the venue site.

Fat-armed and dangerous

I'll give my self-hatred credit: sometimes it gets really good with specifics.

I put on a sleeveless shirt, because whoo hoo, nearing 80 degrees in Philly today! Suck it, seasonal depression!

But then I got a gander at my upper arms, and... Jesus Christ, can you get arm lipo? I bet you can. I should look into that. Arm lipo sounds much easier than hoisting my fat ass off the couch, popping in a Shaun T DVD and actually, um, WORKING on it. Pfft. This IS America, isn't it? Suck out my fat and then give me a snack.

Joking. FINE. I'll do a pushup. FINE.

P.S. If I could do those pushups on TOP of Shaun T, I'd be far more enthused. I know, I know -- he's gay, and married. Like I'd have a shot if he weren't. LET ME DREAM, people.

Insanitease.

Email to friends: 

 

"My therapist is really into baby steps, so she's telling me to just watch workout videos as a step toward getting myself into a workout habit. 

 

"So I'm watching/listening to Insanity while I'm working, and as it turns out, I can't just sit here with Shaun T heavy breathing, grunting, and shouting commands into my headphones. 

 

"AHEM. *squirm* I think I should change over to Netflix."

 

I am perhaps too aurally stimulated, but... "Start to warm it up. We're going through a few exercises right now, until you're dripping." 

 

UNF. Dripping achieved. 

Working out is totally easy.

Naked truth

Eating better and working out is going OK, but I realized I have a new fitness goal: to look as good naked as I do dressed. I look adorable today... or at least I will until I go home and take off my pretty wrapping. Then the illusion is shattered when everything on me goes "flump."

I don't even know if my body is capable of being toned -- I've been thinner, but still looked like I was covered in vanilla pudding when naked. My shoulders and clavicle are bony as fuck, yet I have a gut like Nacho Libre -- where does that get logical? This is how I know I was not intelligently designed -- only a system that gave us the duck-billed platypus could also provide this particular assemblage. The good Lord woulda had His shit together.

Maybe there's a spa treatment that can just slough off all my skin so I can start over.

(I'll have none of your logic about patience and perseverance and inner beauty. FEH! I want to look like Ashley Graham tomorrow. Make it so.)

My inner goddess is still super awkward.

I just registered for an Intro to Burlesque dance class, because clearly I don't feel awkward ENOUGH on the daily, I have to pay to be reminded I lack sex appeal. 

Selecting the proper workout ensemble has never quite felt this important. I wonder what the odds are I could configure a bra under here. (Yeah, I know -- slim to none.)

#JustSayYes  

My inner goddess is still super awkward.

I just registered for an Intro to Burlesque dance class, because clearly I don't feel awkward ENOUGH on the daily, I have to pay to be reminded I lack sex appeal. 

Selecting the proper workout ensemble has never quite felt this important. I wonder what the odds are I could configure a bra under here. (Yeah, I know -- slim to none.)

#JustSayYes  

"I'm not fat. I'm Rubenesque."

I woke up about 2 weeks ago feeling suddenly and substantially fatter*, which is, like, a SPECTACULAR way to wake up. Clothes that had fit are all sausage-casey now, as if I'd gained 10 lbs overnight.

Excellent.

So in my continued effort to "stop being sad and be awesome instead (true story)," FINE, I'll try eating better and exercising. I am the only woman who finds it easier to drop a few pounds than to shop for new clothes. But it took me forEVER, and cost a lot of money, to find a decent wardrobe that fit my short, pudgy Muppet body properly, and I'll be goddamned if I'm going through that again. Running and yoga are free. Not eating is, like, SUPER free. So losing weight is easier AND cheaper. (Plus, you know, health reasons, but...whatever, ice cream is great and exercise blows.)


*I typed "substantially fatter" too quickly at first, and my iPhone was like, "You meant 'duvet sticky regret,' right?"

Jesus Christ, iPhone. No. That was LAST year.