May 7, 2012

Eating Hay By Myself

Something is seriously wrong with my body. Is it possible I was transported aboard an alien spacecraft and my own body was substituted for this mass of flesh I now own?

For three months now I’ve been trying to undo the mistakes of fifty-plus years of bad eating habits. I have lost some weight, and I feel like I’ve developed some good habits. And I exercise four to five days a week, swimming and walking.

For example, I don’t eat a box of Girl Scout cookies in one setting anymore. (Tell the truth, you’ve done it. You know it. Those Thin Mints and a glass of low-fat milk. And even felt a little smug because you were drinking skim milk? Admit it!)
But something awful has happened. The weight I’m losing is coming directly from my butt while my gut hangs on for dear life, like a lifeboat adjacent an ocean liner.
This weekend we have a big family event. (No, I’m not implying that we have a “Big” family. I meant “big” in the sense that it is an important event.)

I need a pair of jeans to wear on Saturday afternoon. I currently have seven pairs of jeans, black, blue, and beige, that are all very baggy in the waist and extremely baggy in the rear. Because of the way in which my weight has come off, the jeans have gotten two inches longer. I am not  two inches taller. This is a phenomenon I cannot explain except with extraterrestrial intervention.  Or menopause.
I headed to the local Wally-World (for you urbanites, this means Wal-Mart) to buy a pair of the same jeans in a smaller size. Since I want to lose more weight, I purchased an inexpensive “in between” pair.

The next size down jeans was skin tight. I know sizes vary, but this is ridiculous.
What gives? 

Apparently not the fabric these jeans are made of.

I can put them on, but I have to lie flat  on the bed and zip them up with a crowbar. This isn’t really conducive to comfort, but my husband really enjoyed watching this--sick bastard.
My family has an expression, “she can eat hay by herself.” Referring to animals at pasture, this saying apparently still applies to me as I struggle to “fit in.”
Move 'em on, head 'em up,
Head 'em up, move 'em out,
Move 'em on, head 'em out Rawhide!
Set 'em out, ride 'em in
Ride 'em in, let 'em out,
Cut 'em out, ride 'em in Rawhide.