Lets raise a glass to starting over again

Lets raise a glass to starting over again.  The thing about life is that you can always start over again, even when we fail, and WE WILL.  A LOT. 




Yes, it's true... I've come to the painful realization (again) that I'm a fat girl.  Where as before, I referred to the fluff as "luscious," cooked soul food proudly and nothing made a bad day better then something fried.   I was made fun of a lot when I was a kid - I developed much faster then my 5th grade female counterparts and received a lot of unwanted attention because of it.  Throughout my high school years, I learned that 1.) People don't make fun of you if you make fun of yourself first and 2.) Who doesn't love the funny fat and jolly girl?  From there, I did everything I could to stand out and in the process I met some amazing people who loved to laugh with me.



Nowa days though things are a bit different.  Health reasons aside, (Although those are very important...) I'm finding that my personality gets bigger as my ass does.  It's a very good gauge for me, actually -  HUGE BOOTY = HILARITY.  When you're as big as me, you have to be funny.   No one likes the boring fat girl.  And with that, it's about time that I change my mind.  The problem is that I'm finding it very difficult to fit all of this "lusciousness" into regular lawn chairs.  I'm worried that if I sit in a folding chair the thing will collapse and I'll end up on the floor and my face will turn beat red and I'll be forced to say something along the lines of "Crap, that's the 6th chair this week!" ... "They sure don't make things like they used to..."



Would I fit on an airplane or would I be one of those people that the skinny people dread being stuck next to?  Would they make me buy another seat to fit all this "lusciousness" in?  A belt extender?  Maybe they would just strap me to the belly of the plane to make sure it flies evenly with the extra added fluff - plus extra padding for the landing, eh?



This isn't the way to go, Jess.  I tell myself this a lot.  Then something happens, and like many other desperate women I grab the Cheetos to soothe the pain.  Sure, jocks and skinny people who have never had a problem with self image, laugh it up!  Not all of us can be so lucky... though we try, mostly we just end up being ridiculed for being the fattest cheerleader on the field. 



So the best thing that I think I should start with, instead of looking at this like an ant looks at Everest, is maybe making some smaller short term goals that will help me achieve the BIG ONE.  Maybe by breaking up my goals it will help me stay focused and will give me the results I so desperately need.  For my booty, for my babies, for the love of my life.  And also, for the LOVE OF MY LIFE - because I do love my life and this is the most important motivation of all.  There are things that I want to do, places I want to go, people I want to see and this "lusciousness" is completely weighing me down.




 I can do this... Queue "the final countdown."





Ok, Butt... the fluff wars are ON.  One of us is goin down. Eat my shorts, Richard Simmons, I'm getting my bounce on - It's my own personal wave of fluff moving throughout my body, colliding into itself to remind me how squishy I am and makes me wonder how in the seven hells I allowed myself to get this way.  This is my journey and my war.  Day one.  It's on.