My Normal Life

When This Girl Walks In…

The other day, we had another argument. We seem to be having them more and more. I’m beginning to feel like it’s all my fault. But they have their own faults. My pants. They seem to be getting smaller and smaller day after day. Either that, or my hips are getting wider and wider. I think it’s the latter. I wanted to throw my beautiful dark grey dress pants in the trash when I felt more bloated than ever while attempting to zip them up. I felt as though my hips were about to explode.  I love being able to wear them, having no need to very often. I am in need of my jeans more than anything. They are more comfortable, but as I have been saying, my dress pants have been losing more weight than I seem able to.  Though, once I take off my jeans and put on my pajama bottoms, that is when I begin to look more pregnant than my friends. Having this big butt does not help either. I do love my big hips at times, but I would much rather have the same size and shaped bottom that my sister has; flat.

My body seems to want to suck in every single fat organism that is on this Earth. I know, I know; I can change this. I can get off my ass, quit drinking cola and do it all on my own. I can have the surgery I have opted out of twice. I can do this. But I don’t. I continue to eat my fast food. I go to my 7-11 everyday. I eat my chocolate. My ass falls asleep everyday because I do not get off of it. Where is this motivation that you all speak of? I seem to have wandered off of his road and am unable to find my way back.

Oh I know; perhaps I should just use this previous speed dating I decided to go to for the eighteenth time as a big kick in my ass to shove me down this road of health. This past event did nothing to burst my ego. Ten lucky, single men had their opportunity in life to travel down my sole mate path in life and none of them chose to spend more than five minutes of their lives with me. Perhaps it was the pants I had chosen to wear that evening. I believe I had worn my dressy, tight denims. I wear those when I know that it was a casual/dress event. Apparently none of these computer-holics like big butts. Apparently, they were expecting their stick, thin super models that they all fantasize about having while they stare at their computers every night. It’s called reality, you Nerdfergasins! Not all of us woman on this planet are a size 2!

The average American woman weighs 166 pounds. Michigan is ranked the tenth most obese state in these United States. So come on men; get your heads out of your asses and look past my stomach. Look deep down inside my rolls; I am awesome. I am nice. I am funny, helpful, cuddly. I like to play board games. I like to cuddle. I like to pretend that I know where I’m going when I am the driver, then ignore you when you’re trying to give me directions. So maybe there is one of you out there who can look past these big hips, for as shallow as I can be at times, once I get sucked into your boring conversation about whatever you might be talking about, I can look past all of what you have on the outside and see who you are deep down inside.



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