I have never been a slim person. When I got super stressed out last year planning a wedding to my Hubby (who else) I lost weight all year. It fell off, mostly too quickly, mostly because I wasn't eating anything but fingernails and biting my lip. Oh and booze, every weekend there was a party, for me or Hubby or both. I wasn't planning on losing all that weight. I just didn't think to slot eating into my schedule. Oh boy, did I get compliments. I still had pale untoned arms, but the untone had a much smaller sense of motion. Now, I am more like a flapping pterodactyl, but they're extinct right? Perhaps I am the missing link. Let's not even bring up the bottom half. Okay, in the spirit of journalistic transparency. It's big, it's a big problem. A big, wide, spreading butt with no joke. It's like the Monster Cheese. As we know I exaggerate, which literally means misrepresent as being bigger; convenient but not entirely untrue.
The biggest problem isn't just that I've been eating. It's that I also eat the wrong things. Take Mae West snack cakes for example. A golden cake with white icing (icing: a fancy word for sugar paste) wrapped in a sweet chocolate embrace. Mae West is a trampy grown up version of little Debbie, taunting me from the box in her pin up pose, laughing at me. And her cakes hurt my teeth but I love them. So I eat them, in packs of 8 over a week and 2 days... But I feel guilty. I feel guilty and that b*%$h Mae just keeps smiling at me wearing a skimpy outfit. If there is one thing that the film industry has taught me it's that advertising and reality are often worlds apart- Mae West has never eaten one of her disgustingly delicious cakes. Surviving on a strict diet of cotton balls, two finger sandwiches and self loathing. Also, she might have a slight advantage being a cartoon.
PS this may have also caused this On the edge of my seat, hanging by a thread