:-/ A glum Monday rant.
May. 5th, 2003 09:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7I realized something sort of depressing this weekend.
I was sort of cleaning in my room and found my sewing kit. There's a measuring tape in it. I measured myself, as I'm a moron.
My waist is an inch bigger than it was when I last measured it, a month or two ago-- and then, it was an inch bigger than when I'd previously measured it, sometime in February I think. My hips are two inches smaller, and my boobs are about an inch smaller.
So I'm undergoing very few changes due to my intensive workout regimen, but what few changes I'm undergoing are conspiring to make me less attractive and more... apple-shaped. Yes, folks-- soon my waist will be the widest point of my body. So sexy, the potbelly look-- I've always coveted it and cursed the fact that I naturally was prone to gaining weight in my boobs and my hips.
Yes, I know, I know, I should expect to lose fat where I gain it in the first place, but I had rather hoped I'd lose it evenly. But no. I'm two pounds heavier and my waist is growing.
And yes, I am doing crunches and abdominal exercises that, in other people, are purported to have decreased their waist size, so I'm not just feeling that I'm magically entitled to good abs-- I'm actually trying to make them happen. Not "good" so much as... not repulsive.
Phooey.
You think I'm just whining?
In college, around junior year, I was an even 44-34-44. Which isn't ideal, but isn't awful. I was also fifteen pounds lighter somehow, which could be this scale or could be actual. Now I'm 43-37-42. EW. Nothing fits me, because most stores don't carry above a size 12 and I'm awkwardly between a 14 and a 16. And the fat lady stores start at 14 but their idea of a 14 is far, far different than the normal stores' idea of one. So I'm too small to be a fat lady, but I'm too big to just be a lady. Which is why I'd shop at Old Navy, except Westchester is too fucking posh to have one.
I did a lot of slipping and tripping and sliding on the way to work today, which just goes to illustrate that I do need new shoes... these sneakers have paper-flat soles, which doesn't give me much help on the hills I walk on. But I can't *really* afford the new sneakers, sports bra, and hiking pants I need (along with the new work shoes to replace the three pairs that have catastrophically worn out in the last two months). I'd be doing pretty well right now except that I still owe my parents around $1800, and I think the raise I'm *supposed* to get but haven't heard anything about would help, but I don't know how much it was yet. Sigh.
I'd hoped by this point that somehow I'd've saved up enough to get some new clothes (like maybe a couple of flattering shirts, maybe a pair of nice trousers or two, maybe even a skirt or-- heaven protect us from excess-- a dress that doesn't make me look like a 40something rural schoolteacher), and that I'd've lost enough weight to merit them. But, neither has happened, so it's just as well. Perhaps I should devote yet more time to vanity, and kick things up a few notches for swimsuit season.
I also have to start on the Pill, which will do God knows what... maybe my boobs will grow and I'll become a total freak doomed to never find clothes that even remotely fit.
On a good note, Dave expressed solidarity when I glumly pronounced myself the most repulsive person ever-- he thought so too, so we could like stay up late at night bonding over how repulsive I was. It's something we have in common, that we both think I'm the most repulsive person we've ever met.
I punched him in the gut.
I was sort of cleaning in my room and found my sewing kit. There's a measuring tape in it. I measured myself, as I'm a moron.
My waist is an inch bigger than it was when I last measured it, a month or two ago-- and then, it was an inch bigger than when I'd previously measured it, sometime in February I think. My hips are two inches smaller, and my boobs are about an inch smaller.
So I'm undergoing very few changes due to my intensive workout regimen, but what few changes I'm undergoing are conspiring to make me less attractive and more... apple-shaped. Yes, folks-- soon my waist will be the widest point of my body. So sexy, the potbelly look-- I've always coveted it and cursed the fact that I naturally was prone to gaining weight in my boobs and my hips.
Yes, I know, I know, I should expect to lose fat where I gain it in the first place, but I had rather hoped I'd lose it evenly. But no. I'm two pounds heavier and my waist is growing.
And yes, I am doing crunches and abdominal exercises that, in other people, are purported to have decreased their waist size, so I'm not just feeling that I'm magically entitled to good abs-- I'm actually trying to make them happen. Not "good" so much as... not repulsive.
Phooey.
You think I'm just whining?
In college, around junior year, I was an even 44-34-44. Which isn't ideal, but isn't awful. I was also fifteen pounds lighter somehow, which could be this scale or could be actual. Now I'm 43-37-42. EW. Nothing fits me, because most stores don't carry above a size 12 and I'm awkwardly between a 14 and a 16. And the fat lady stores start at 14 but their idea of a 14 is far, far different than the normal stores' idea of one. So I'm too small to be a fat lady, but I'm too big to just be a lady. Which is why I'd shop at Old Navy, except Westchester is too fucking posh to have one.
I did a lot of slipping and tripping and sliding on the way to work today, which just goes to illustrate that I do need new shoes... these sneakers have paper-flat soles, which doesn't give me much help on the hills I walk on. But I can't *really* afford the new sneakers, sports bra, and hiking pants I need (along with the new work shoes to replace the three pairs that have catastrophically worn out in the last two months). I'd be doing pretty well right now except that I still owe my parents around $1800, and I think the raise I'm *supposed* to get but haven't heard anything about would help, but I don't know how much it was yet. Sigh.
I'd hoped by this point that somehow I'd've saved up enough to get some new clothes (like maybe a couple of flattering shirts, maybe a pair of nice trousers or two, maybe even a skirt or-- heaven protect us from excess-- a dress that doesn't make me look like a 40something rural schoolteacher), and that I'd've lost enough weight to merit them. But, neither has happened, so it's just as well. Perhaps I should devote yet more time to vanity, and kick things up a few notches for swimsuit season.
I also have to start on the Pill, which will do God knows what... maybe my boobs will grow and I'll become a total freak doomed to never find clothes that even remotely fit.
On a good note, Dave expressed solidarity when I glumly pronounced myself the most repulsive person ever-- he thought so too, so we could like stay up late at night bonding over how repulsive I was. It's something we have in common, that we both think I'm the most repulsive person we've ever met.
I punched him in the gut.
this is from kat
This : On a good note, Dave expressed solidarity when I glumly pronounced myself the most repulsive person ever-- he thought so too, so we could like stay up late at night bonding over how repulsive I was. It's something we have in common, that we both think I'm the most repulsive person we've ever met.
I punched him in the gut.
Was the funniest thing I've seen in a long, long time. I've been having a horrible week and was musing about killing my boyfriend (who for the millionth damn time left the VCR on when he went to work, thus not allowing us to record Buffy, when there's only a couple episodes left) or possibly killing myself or Joss (the guy who produced Buffy and made it suck the last two seasons) and then I read your journal and nearly fell over laughing. I fell much better now, which is good because Trevor's due to come home any minute now and I don't think I'll meet him at the door with a knife. Just kidding about the knife bit, really.
Anyhow, your sardonic sadness cheered me up.
Kat
Re: this is from kat
Date: 2003-05-06 08:16 pm (UTC)I'm learning to live with Dave's approach to things. He's learning to live with mine. He is, really, the bestest boy ever, and he's my favorite. I didn't know they made boys as good as he is. He's just... a knob, sometimes, and needs punching.
(I didn't really punch him. That would've been domestic violence. I kind of did, but not hard. Just for all you domestic-violence activists out there. I don't beat him; it wouldn't be right, as i'm bigger than him, mass-wise. I do occasionally abuse him in wrestling matches, but I don't hurt him. Much.)