I’ve been taking a break from my diet this past month. Basically for the month of July I kind of just took some time to myself. And by that I mean I was hiding in a corner with some cheesecake and a fork. Oh, who am I kidding, I didn’t even need the fork.
Even though I spent the better part of a month eating my way across town via pasta and desert I still basically maintained my weight. This week however I’m losing again, and all this losing weight is reminding me of one of my least favorite weight loss side effects.
I know your like wow, I can’t believe shes complaining about that. But seriously, when your walking through the store and your pants are falling down because they are too big and your underwear have ridden all the way up to your shoulders because even they are too big, well it gets a little annoying.
I only wish I had taken a picture. Yesterday I’m walking through Whole Foods. I have these really cute brand new capris on. As I’m walking I’m laughing because it would appear I don’t know my size anymore. So even though I just bought these and I tried them on they were way to big and now I look like a jack ass hiking my pants back up every 14 steps.
However, about 6 minutes into the shopping trip I realize I’ve got a bigger problem. I’m wearing these really cute lacy HOT PINK boy shorts. Maybe if I wore thongs this wouldn’t be a problem (I tried that this weekend and lets just say the 49859er times I pulled my thong out of my asscrack in a public place makes thongs not worth it). So I’m walking through the store pulling up my pants when I notice an extra little fabric there. It seems my undies are about a size and a half too big now. So instead of just falling down and bearing my ass like the pants they decided to just ride up OVER THE WAIST BAND OF MY PANTS.
Visualize a lacy pink muffin top, only there was no fat in this muffin top, nope, just HOT PINK LACY UNDIES. I spent the rest of the shopping trip walking around simultaneously trying to pull up my pants and shove down my undies. My favorite part of the whole trip was when I had an itch just above my belly button so I kind of lifted my shirt and itched allowing the whole store to see my ass crack though my jacked up lacy panties.
Actually my favorite part was when some random guy walked by me, looked at me checking my grocery list on my phone then smiled and shouted IPHONE YEAH! And then just walked off. Thats exactly how I feel about my phone, like I should cheer every time I see it!
The night continued on with me waking up at 2am to pull the fucking underwear off and fumble around in the dark to pull out my smallest tightest undies because the other ones were so big they were sliding off in my sleep.
This problem with wrong size clothes has been a reoccurring theme in my life lately. Like yesterday when I woke up totally stoked to wear my new dress to work. Then I put it on and realized that NO, I am not in fact a large anymore. Shit. I just got used to being a large from being an extra large and now I’m expected to get used to being a medium. This is a lot for my brain. Or how all of my bras right now sink in on themselves because they are too big. So I went and bought a new bra in a 38 C only to find out a 38 is too big and I’m now closer to a 36D. Yeah, the C cup wasn’t happening, these girls will never be a C cup.
Other things that you wouldn’t think of. My sunglasses don’t fit anymore because they are too stretched out. I guess my head was fat like Barry Bonds before (don’t yell I love me some Bonds but damn his head got fat!). This also means none of my cute head bands fit. My hates are all stretched and so on. You know, I always knew my cheeks and neck were getting fat, and I saw the three chins, I guess I just never realized my whole head was fat.
I’ve had to tighten my bracelets. My wedding ring hardly stays on anymore. In fact it really only fits if I stick it on the bigger finger right next to it. Then I look at that bigger finger and think damn my fingers were fat.
I’m not used to my new size. I am for sure not used to the shopping part. I bought pants in a 13 Juniors. They seemed to fit in the dressing room, but now they don’t. I can’t imaging that I could be an 11 in the juniors section. I tried on some 10s in a different brand in the juniors and they fit too. I stood there in the dressing room thinking, “something has to be wrong here, I haven’t been a ten in like 800 years.”
I wish I could get used to this though. It would save me a lot of time in the fucking dressing room not having to go exchange for smaller sizes. I have two final goals. Buy a pair of Seven Jeans, and buy a pair of Lucky Lil Maggie Jeans.
I’ve been pretty strict on my diet lately and I plan to stick to it. I have two great motivators. One, my mother in law will be in town in one week for Brandons birthday. You gotta look good for the mother in law. But two on August 30th I am throwing one of the biggest 30th birthday bashes for my husband EVER. The thing is, the theme is WIFE BEATER. Everyone has to wear wife beaters. All my skinny little girl friends are already planning to rip theirs and tie them up with skanky red bras and what not and I’m thinking fuck I wanna look good in my wife beater too. Soooo mama is back to strict so I can rock my Lucky jeans, wife beater and a causally sexy HOT PINK BRA!
On that note, I can’t wait until his birthday is here. I’ve got so many goddamn secret things planned and I’m just busting at the seams. I can’t wait to finally be able to talk about all the shit I have in store for him. If you know me, you know I don’t do secrets and surprises well so it is just about killing me not to just unload every little detail on ya’ll. Just ask my good friend Stephanie how well I do when it comes to HUGE GIANT GREAT NEWS SECRETS! But seriously, it’s going to be good!
Okay I’m out. Gotta go put on my dress that fits after I had to waste the gas to exchange the fucker.