Tuesday, April 14, 2009
You're the One for Me, Fatty...
I am turning into the Marshmallow Man.
It’s quite sad, actually. In the past year I have gone up two sizes—from a 0 to a 4. I am five feet tall, so this is a major jump.
I think it’s a mixture of all the stress from work, lack of shopping funds, my dad being an asshole, and my boyfriend’s never-ending depression. The only happiness I get in life these days is biting into a slice of pizza.
It was a beautiful day today, so I decided to wear my light blue shirt dress (Gap). To my dismay, the dress wouldn’t button up. It was too tight. So I decided to try my light gray Calvin Klein sleeveless dress but it wouldn’t zip up. Same goes for my dark beige CK dress, little black Audrey-inspired dress (Ann Taylor), and my Ralph Lauren denim skirt.
I was horrified. My only pair of jeans which still fits me (Delia's) was covered in mud and in the laundry basket. My skirts and suits were at the dry cleaners. I was screwed. I ended up wearing my hot pink-and-gold striped tight-fitted party dress from Express. I looked like I was going clubbing, instead of going to work. So I draped myself in a black trench coat, which I vowed to keep on all day.
When I got to Chipotle to meet my dad for lunch, I took the coat off. My dad gaped at me in horror. “My god,” he said. “You look like a Polish sausage wrapped in a candy wrapper.”
I wanted to cry.
He went on to say my trench coat was too tight as well. And that I didn’t care about my body and was turning into an obese person and I would be lucky to make it as a plus size model on America’s Next Top Model. He was so disgusted and it made me so sad.
So I called Rian to cry but he didn’t feel sorry for me. “I eat to live but you and your dad live to eat. You spend every lunch deciding what you’re going to have for dinner.” And I couldn’t even pretend to argue, because it’s true. In fact, at lunch today not only did Dad and I exchange what we were having for dinner tonight (he’s having spaghetti with mom and I’m going to Cupini’s with Nadine), but we also planned out where we were going for lunch tomorrow and deciding what to have for dinner the next day.
So really, this is all my dad’s fault. How dare he.
But he’s in shape and I’m not. So I have to figure out what to do about ME. Should I start smoking (Kerrie did and she looks fab) or stop eating (my mom did and at 50, she’s three times skinner than me) or should I start exercising (even though I can’t afford to join a gym)?
What should I do???