Weight

You know it's funny, I was just bitching to myself about a friend of mine who keeps saying they need to loose more weight. They've lost a lot of weight already and look healthy and happy and I don't understand why they insist on jumping through hoops and doing strange things to their bodies in the name of diet.

Then we come to me. About a month ago, I was shopping for gowns for Friday night and even though I didn't find anything I wanted, I was able to console myself with the fact that I looked fucking amazing in all of them. I was hot and I knew it.

Now I gained some weight in DC (5 pounds or so) but for my birthday party, I still thought I looked amazing. We come to yesterday, when I was trying on gowns again. This time, I'm highly aware of the pouch of my stomach, the crease between my hips and thighs and the "double chin" my boobs make by my underarms. After yesterday, I feel fat and ugly. Intellectually, I *know* better. I mean seriously, you should have heard the way the women (other customers) in the shop were going on about what an amazing figure I have. But all I could see were the flaws. All I could see were the five pounds of extra weight that make the difference between a comfortable size eight and a not quite right size ten.

I just don't fucking get it. I am disgusted with myself that I'm having this focus and I'm also annoyed over the five pounds. There is even a part of me that's trying to calculate how to eat minimally until Friday so that I "look good" in whatever dress I buy. I can't believe I'm that big an idot. Or maybe I can. *ugh*