My aunt came over on Saturday and made a comment about my weight, saying I was skinny. My mother immediately countered with “Are you crazy? Melissa’s not skinny.” I’m not? I don’t think I’m skinny-skinny but I always assumed I was, I don’t know, average-skinny. I asked my boyfriend if he thought I was skinny later on and his exact words were, “Well, you gained weight.” WHAT? Take note, boyfriends everywhere, that is not an acceptable answer. Something satisfactory would would have been, “You’ve never looked better.” I don’t care if you feel we’re at the stage in our relationship where we can be truly honest with each other – we’re not and we never will be. That stage doesn’t exist. Sometimes you have to lie (or at least sugarcoat things or change subjects). You cannot poke fun at things we have genuine issues with, especially if you plan on getting laid ever again. I’m actually pretty comfortable with my weight, but I don’t need you to tell me if I gained any. Did you ever think that maybe I REALIZE I GAINED WEIGHT? That maybe I ONLY HAVE ONE PAIR OF JEANS THAT FITS? That maybe YOU’RE BEING ANNOYING?
I guess I let his answer get to me because I woke up thinking about my flab this morning. Again, I don’t think I’m fat and I’m generally quite happy with how I look, but I make some bad food-related choices. I eat chips and chocolate together (I like the saltiness and the sweetness) as a snack, I’ve had curly fries for breakfast and I honestly love McDonald’s. I’m disgusting. Just yesterday I went to that rice pudding place near Concordia (aka heaven) and I had $12 worth of rice pudding. I know that doesn’t sound like a lot but think about it. Have you any idea how much rice pudding you can get for $12? A LOT. And although my stomach hurt quite a bit after, I didn’t even feel guilty that I ate so much. I felt guilty that I spent $12. I really needed at $12.
Maybe it’s time for me to become health-conscious before I bust out of yet another pair of jeans. Maybe I’ll do yoga. Maybe I’ll work out. Or maybe everyone will just have to accept me for the gross person that I am (let me live my life!).
(Edit: I think this post made me sound a teensy bit worse than I actually am. It’s not like I eat junk food all the time. And I may not go to the gym, but I walk just about everywhere. How can I describe my eating habits? Well, put it this way – some people turn to recreational drug use as a release from their daily responsibilities; I turn to pizza parties.)