Ummm. Hi.

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It's me.

Hopefully there will be less of me in 6 weeks. Let's see, I weigh ... wait a sec. Well, I don't really want to tell you, do I? But holy key-riced! I didn't create this blog to start lying right immediately. Okay. I'm 5'6. I weigh 161 lbs, and wear a size 12. And that AFTER exercising today. Not too bad. But not great either.

Lord knows it's not that I think I'm fat. I'm fine. I look good (and my awesomely delightful yet impishly sexy attitude gets me the rest of the way). But I want to be finer. And not to look finer (although that's a nice side benefit, innit?), but to feel finer. Finer 'n' frog hair, as they say back home. I want to climb the stairs without feeling out of breath. I want to be able to touch my toes easily. I want to be able to hike that trail without wanting to cry because I know I'm holding everyone back. I want to be ATHLETE-GIRL. I always did. Well, I may be breathless, but momma dint raise no fools. I am never going to be "athlete girl". It's ludicrous; I'm way too lazy (although I like to call it "casual").

The reason I can't lose weight (I've been kinda trying) is the same reason I can't quit smoking. Because I'm not that fat, and I don't smoke that much. The justification is too easy to come by. If I was forced to go cold turkey -ha ha- (by which I mean "If I was forced into having some actual balls...") maybe it would be easier. Then I'd know it was gonna be really friggin' hard, and I'd steel myself for it. Currently, I fool myself into thinking that of course it's hard for fat people, but it won't be that hard for me. So then I start my work out, and I'm all like, "What? Fuck this noise, it's fucking hard! I don't look that bad." Yeah, go eat a croissant, ya whiner.

So I've got it pretty good, right? But that doesn't make it easy. And self-knowledge does not bring self-actualization. That takes balls.

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