Tag Archives: fatty

Don’t squeeze me in the middle

21 Aug

The terms “diet” and “vacation” do not go together.  People who travel rarely worry about dieting.  Rather it’s more of a “fuck it.  I’m on vacation, I can eat an entire pie if I want to,” mentality.  You know it’s true.  When was the last time you were away and you turned down the extra drink or said no to dessert?  Of all of the places I’ve ever traveled, Australia is the place that has the most delicious food.  Living there for six months gave me the time to eat like the world was coming to an end, so it’s no wonder that I gained 20 pounds.  None of the clothes that I took with me fit when I brought them home, I even had to buy legitimate fat pants – from a fat pants store.  Not a proud moment.

You know what seriously sucks about getting fatter?  Seeing the number/letter on the tag in your clothes go up a size or two.  Just knowing that I have to buy an XL instead of an L, or a 14 instead of a 12 (and that’s still a tight squeeze) makes me want to cry.  My initial reaction was just to cry into a glass of wine and help myself to another cupcake – not helpful.  New strategy in place: back to weight watchers, and back to investing in Spanx and other shapers.  On the bright side it’s not like anyone is going to catch me wearing them because it’s been about a half a century since anyone has seen me naked.

For those of you who don’t know what a slimmer is, it’s basically an item of clothing that sucks all of your fat in.  There are all kinds you can buy, and the one I chose was kind of like a tank top, a super tight tank top.  The beauty of using something like a slimmer is that it evens out all those lumps and bumps and you’re able to fit into clothes without looking like a giant sausage.  But it’s important to make a smart choice with the slimmer you buy, because if it doesn’t fit right it will do nothing nice for your fat rolls.  Instead it will squeeze you in all of the wrong places and make your fat pop out in even more unsexy ways than if you weren’t wearing it at all.

Two nights ago I went shopping and was psyched to find a Tory Burch dress I could pretty much squeeze into.  Yes it accentuated my lumps and bumps, but with a shaper/slimmer that sucker looked gooooood!  Found a slimmer tried the dress back on, and bought both.   Yesterday morning I put on my new slimmer, wrapped myself in my hot new dress, and rolled out the door knowing that if I ran into any of my secret boyfriends they’d notice my total hotness.

One tiny little problem…about 10 minutes after sitting down the bottom of the slimmer would begin to roll up towards my middle thereby making my stomach squeeze out of them bottom and making it look like I had been cut and half.  Not a cute look.  Know what I found this out?  Half way to work.  Did I go back and change?  Nope.  Instead I thought, “if I just pull the bottom down lower, it won’t roll back up.”

Did that work?

It sure as shit did not.

As long as I just stood and did not move, the outfit worked.  The second I started walking, sat down, took a deep breath, or blinked the fucking thing would roll up and shameful things happened to my body.  Each time I’d have to find a way to get to the bathroom and pray to god that I wouldn’t see anyone I knew on my way.  No joke, I went to the bathroom 10 times yesterday.  10 freaking times.

So you know what I did?  I went to my friends’ house for dinner and confessed my dirty little secret with the slimmer and how horrible the whole entire day had been.  And I told them this while I was eating three scoops of ice cream.

Perhaps I need a different strategy to hide and lose my fat rolls…

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Fat is as Fat Does

26 Jan

I’m a whale.  I’m a hippo.  I’m a pig.  I’m a whale.  These are the things going through my head as I stand in front of the mirror wondering where on earth these cankles came from.

First official day in Australia, it’s perfect summer weather, and all I see is pasty white blubber.  These next six months are going to be AMAZING!

I have a friend of a friend in town who I’m supposed to meet up with today.  Have never met her, we’ve just exchanged a few emails, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.  When I first agreed to meet up with her, I immediately sent her a facebook friend request and started stalking her.  I was hoping for someone who wasn’t model hot so I wouldn’t feel like such a fast ass.  Just a normal looking girl, though definitely fitter than I am.

We’ve decided on going down to St. Kilda, down on the water.  “Swim suits?” she asked.  Flash of me standing on the beach blinding everyone with my fat thighs.  Lied that I left my suit at home.

“Should we run or power walk?  Should I wear gym clothes? “she asks.  First of all HA!  Second of all HAHA!  Me?  Power walk or run??  Is there a zombie apocolaypse?  Because if there isn’t, I’m not doing it.  Oh, and also, its upward of 90 degrees today, I’ll sweat just from breathing – my heart would stop if I ran.  My response? “Haha. Yeah, no. I’m the biggest slacker EVER. For reals. Go casual.”

Know whats’ funny?  To get rid of the whale/hippo/pig/whale thing, I should run or power walk.  Maybe I’ll just have a cookie to take my mind off of this.