Sunday, April 29

179.2 reasons to smile

As of this very moment, I weigh 179.2 pounds.

I have decided to take a different approach to losing weight. Bitching and moaning has done nothing besides damage my already tender self-esteem and annoy my friends, most of whom are running a race right now while I am sitting here topless writing this post. Hot.

I am going to be positive about how I look, feel, and weigh starting right...NOW.

I was going to title this post as "179.2 reasons to cry", but then I realized that my life is going too well to cry over anything. I am so excited to go to work tomorrow, I'm meeting those healthy bitches for brunch in a couple of hours (all you can drink bloody marys!), and I got to catch up with an old college buddy last night who I haven't spoken to in about a year.

I'm also psyched because I have a few mini-breaks planned for this summer already. I'm going to visit my brother Rippie in California. He went to school for film at NYU and was working as a PA on the "Brenda" show, when he decided to move to LA with some friends to pursue his film career. Rip, not sure I said this enough, but I am so SO proud of you!! Plus I miss your guts like crazy.

Anyways, back to my skinny ass. (See what I did there?) I am going to visit my brother the last week of July. I haven't bought tickets yet, but the plan is to fly out to San Diego on July 20th to see a Padres game that weekend. Then I'll drive to Santa Monica to chill with my brother and hit a Dodgers and Angels game. Then I'm driving back to SD for the comic con that following weekend. Phew!

So by July 20th I would like to lose some weight. My positive self has decided not to put a goal on there, that "some" is better than "none". It would be great if I felt comfortable enough with my namesakes to not have to wear shorts over my bathing suit, so either I lose a few inches on my thighs OR become so confident that I don't give a fuck about them.

The idea is to not put pressure on myself. I don't have much in my life to rebel against anymore, so the minute I feel defiant I eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's. It's like when I'd stay out past curfew as a fuck you to my parents, but now I'm just saying fuck you to myself.

So there you have it. The next three months I am going to be positive and enjoy myself, with the hopes that I feel great come July...or that during my first swim in the Pacific Ocean I'm not accidentally harpooned by a nearsighted whaler.

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