Several weeks ago I bought a dress for my brother-in-law’s wedding, which happens to be in two weeks. I have a lot wedding related events coming up and I was uber-excited to buy a different dress for each one of the. Because, of course that is necessary. But I’m a reasonable girl and I knew that I had to stay within budget. The first dress I found was at TJ Maxx for $20 and will be perfect for my cousin’s wedding shower. Then I hit the jackpot at Ross, where they had a bunch of different Calvin Klein satin dresses for $50.
I love fitted dresses as opposed to flowy dresses made out of flimsy fabric. They look good on other girls, but not this one. I have rather large breastases and I like my dress to be able to smush them down and make them appear smaller or at least higher. I tried them on and OF COURSE I was between sizes. So I did what any self-respecting girl would do and I bought the smaller size and decided I would starve myself for the next several weeks.
When I KNOW that I have to control my eating in order to physically fit into something, I start playing mind games with myself. Where most people would panic and start a diet and exercise program similar to DJ’s in the episode of Full House when she passes out on the stationary bike, I do the opposite. I put it out of my mind until we are one week away and I physically can’t fit my leg into the dress.
Things were going great for a while. I was at the gym every day. I spun my heart out until I broke my ass and my knees. Then I got sick. My crazy bad cold kept me in bed for several days and generally feeling like crap for more than a week. I didn’t have an appetite, so I lost five pounds. BONUS! When I stared feeling better I decided I would just keep the same eating habits that I had when I was sick, which was like, eating a cracker and then sleeping for five hours. Didn’t work so much.
So not only had i gotten out of the habit of going to the gym, but my appetite also came back. Now I have gained back the five pounds plus three more. I look like I’m about three months pregnant. I think I should start posting weekly belly pictures.
But it’s not all my fault. Things just keep HAPPENING in my life that basically require me to eat massive amounts of food. Lets take this past weekend as an example.
Friday: We had something to do in our old college town, which is like one mile from downtown. We were there around rush hour, so instead of braving the traffic we decided to get dinner and wait for rush hour to be over. We went to an Italian restaurant and I had to get my favorite thing on the menu, herb chicken over penne in a marsala sauce. I think I looked it up one time and it was like, well over 1200 calories. Still too early to get on the road. Might as well go to Mad Mex for a drink. What’s that? Oh its happy hour? Oh, Big Azz margaritas are only $5? And they are 900 calories? Well . . . I can’t pass up a SALE.
Saturday: I had to work on a magazine article I’m writing. There is a section of my city that is a long strip of warehouses that sell stuff on the streets on the weekend. Really authentic Italian breads and meats, lots of asian grocers, Polish grocers, a giant fish market, etc. My job was to interview a bunch of the street vendors about what they sell. Of course, what kind of investigative reporter would I be if I didn’t actually sample the products that I was writing about? Which led to a lunch that consisted of (and in this order):
1. Gyro Meat
3. Funnel Cake
4. Chicken on a stick
5. Pad Thai
6. Another Chicken on a Stick
7. Roasted Peanuts
8. Kettle corn
9. Falafel Sandwich
That night, I was still feeling the effects of my culinary trip around the world. I decided I would have a light salad for dinner. Then my friend called and said she was in town and she is the type of friend who will not speak to you for a year if you don’t drop your plans and see her when she is in town, without any warning. I decided I would just get a cup of soup and a water. I sort of stuck to this. It was clam chowder, which I’m sure was loaded with fat and calories and I added a ceasar salad. And the waiter asked if I wanted some grilled shrimp on my salad. What the F kind of question is that? Duh.
I rolled myself home and realized, oh shit, I have to go out to lunch with my best friend tomorrow. We have a tradition of going out for crab legs on each other’s birthday. And any other day of the year that we can justify it. Which led to Joe’s Crab shack, some bad decisions, and a pot the size of a camping cooler filled with a thousand crab legs, a million shrimp, corn, potatoes and some random sausage. We weren’t sure why the sausage was there, but I don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
Don’t judge me. I am now drinking green tea and water and eating only fruits and vegetables until the wedding in order to at least shed some water weight.*
*This will probably end up being a lie.