Christmas Fat

Soooo. Turns out I'm still fat. I mean, numbers can lie a little and clothes can stretch but pictures? Nope. No, they are the truth tellers.

I got all fancied up in pretty clothes yesterday and pictures were taken. Taking them with my girlfriends I smiled and giggled and posed the way I learned is the most flattering and then I saw the pictures and smiling became a bit of a struggle.

My Fella told me I was beautiful. He said it without words as I was struggling into pantyhose before we left, and when I sat next to him in the car and he put his hand on my thigh. He said it in the way he looked at me and held my hand. He said it simply with, "You're so beautiful."  And in the moment, I did feel beautiful. I even knew it a little.

But then...god what is it about seeing yourself in pictures that just destroys you? I felt like I was looking at a parody of myself. It looked like someone had pushed 'enhance' sixty times like that guy from Super Troopers. Ugh.

I know that attempting to diet right now would be foolish. I mean, cookies, cakes, pies, chocolates, big 'ol spreads of food...I'm not going to not eat those things. BUT I think that I'll give that New Year's Resolution thing a try this year.

I gotta try something. I don't want to be the freak anymore and though I know that people that love me would be quick to correct me from that description, I'd have to assure them that's how I felt. At least right now as I remember the fact that somehow I've created cankles. For fuck's sake. Cankles?

And now it's public. I've not been one to shy away from the fact that I weigh more than I should and now that I've described yet again the fact, maybe I'll hold myself more responsible.

I hope so. I hope that feeling of 'it's too late get a crane and fucking give up' goes away. I will get my ankles back goddammit.