Um...

My boss gave me a book today about eating better. What's that about?

Fat Talk

Part of my job is to find speakers to come to various events and give engaging speeches on interesting topics and in turn, the audience will be so impressed and pleased they will donate money to my employer. My only problem with this is this is that the topics have to be appealing to a broad range of different people, old and young, rich and well, richer, etc.

I can't stop proposing food related topics to my tiny little boss. I can't stop. It's like it's the only thing that I find interesting. Today marks the second time in a row I have brought up food as topic to my boss. And she's so little. I'd break her if I sat on her.

She suggested we do something about the medical field. And of course all I can bring myself to find is things related to food and the medical field. I need to stop.

This is getting embarrassing.

Whoa There!

I have two bosses. They are both about 5'2. One must weigh 105 and the other must weigh, at most, 125. Both, obviously, are not fat. The "bigger" boss, we'll call her Stacy. Stacy's only flaw is having a meaty bottom half. It's nothing really noticeable and she can cover it up pretty easily with the right clothing, but she insists on talking about her weight with me at all times. As if, per say, we're even close to the same weight. Like we're in the same club or something. We're not.

The other day Stacy came to my office, sat down and went on and on about how her friend came over, forced her to order dinner and watch the Biggest Loser. She hated her evening and then went into a 20 minute tailspin about how her friend said she couldn't be her bridesmaid (the girl isn't even engaged) because she, Stacy, is too fat. And supposedly this girl is fat as well.

And Stacy told me all of this...because I'm fat?

I know, It's Been a While...

...but rather than go into it I'm just going to ignore the fact and start off as if we've never had time apart.
I started a new job about 2 months ago. It's very business-y and therefore, I can't wear any sort of thing I wore to my previous job like jeans or t-shirts. Because of this, I'm pretty regulated to black pants and dresses.

Side note, dresses are amazing and I encourage you all to go online to Target plus size and buy some. And yes, I'm wearing one right now. And double yes, I have bike shorts under so I don't cause my thighs to rub together and start a forest fire.

I've been wearing dresses pretty much all the time. They're easier than pants in the morning because I don't have to find a top and they're more comfortable. I learned this lesson the hard way.

Yesterday I put on my only black pair of pants and one of the only tops I have and went to work. The pants were a little snug, but they're my normal size 24 Old Navy pants and I didn't think much of it. That was, until I got to work. OMG you guys, pain ensued. What was my first hour of work felt like 5. These pants were going to be the death of me. They felt as if a python had attached itself to my waist and was showing me no mercy. There was nothing I could do. I tried going to the bathroom several times to relieve the pain but that didn't do much. At one point the inside button (and I seriously want to know who fastens the inside button!?) dug itself so far into my skin that I started to bleed. I was starting to look tie died and wondered how any blood flow was getting to the lower half of my body.

I'm proud to say I made it through the day, blood and all.

What had happened to my size 24 pants? Could I have gained that much weight in such a short period of time? It hadn't been that long since I wore them? Anyway, my conclusion is this: I want a pair of pants with an elastic band.

Is this giving up? Is there a separation between fat girls who wear zippers and buttons and those who wear elastic bands? I don't know, but I need your opinion.

Night Crazy

It's 4:51 in the morning. I've been awake since 4. I can't sleep. Sometimes I come up with brilliant ideas at this time and then I fall back asleep and forget things, so I'm writing this one down: I'm going to Over eaters Anonymous.

I might happen to be watching Ruby while I writing this, but this is still a great idea.

I've been to OA twice before and loved it. I'm not sure if I have ever written about it, but the two times that I have been were really great. I love hearing stories and everyone there is really positive.

Has anyone else out there been to OA? What was your experience? And what can you say to a person, like myself, who wants to go back, but is scared!

Et tu, Nordstroms?

Why am I showing a very digitally altered skinny girl on this blog? Because Nordstroms was trying to sell me this dress...in the plus size section. Really? That's going to make me want to buy that (ugly) dress? I think not.

Errr...

First of all, sorry for the delay. I have had some computer issues and well, Lindsay, her computer is just dead.

I just wanted to let you in on two little stories that have happened to me in the past couple of days.

Story 1: I got on my scale and instead of telling me my weight, it just said Err. I know that this means error and that I needed to step on again, but seriously, Err was just perfect. It was like my scale was telling me Errr...you really want to know?

Story 2: I had to go to Saks Fifth Avenue to return a disastrous dress I bought for an upcoming wedding shower. If there is one thing I hate, it's going to high end stores in Beverly Hills. Fat and Beverly Hills just don't mix. I slipped into the shoe department because I'm a fat girl and nothing makes me feel almost normal than buying a pair of shoes that even a skinny girl could wear. There, I found an amazing pair of Tory Burch sandals for $100. I bought them. And, as I was getting my credit card back from the sales man my wallet dropped. I picked it up and was on my way. Two seconds later the sales man caught me and told me that I had dropped something. It was one of those buy 9 get the 1oth for free cards...TO SOME HORRIBLE SANDWICH PLACE! He looked at me like a fatty. Basically because maybe I was punched up to 7 sandwiches. For shame!