Where's Non Celeb Fit Club When You Need It?

This week I will be starting a diet.

I’m serious this time.

Since I have moved to DC I have gained thirty pounds and finally it has caught up to me.

Maybe because I have always been thin *outside of my butt* people look really surprised to see me…well average sized.

Now on one hand, I LOVE the weight gain. I didn’t hit 100 lbs. until my junior year of high school and my prom dress had to be taken in two times because I kept losing weight.

I’ve always been the smallest one in my family even though I have one of the biggest appetites. It’s a shame when your 10 year old cousins weigh more than you do. We won’t even get on the chest sizes of those critters.

Gaining weight has never been easy for me. I’ve struggled with it my whole life. I hated being skinny. I wanted to be one of the “thick” girls not one of the skinny girls.

Outside of having an ass, which I think is pretty average but looks bigger because of my frame; I don’t really have a shape. I don’t have big breasts and while I have nice legs, they’re not shapely.

In college I gained and lost my freshman 15 and outside of gaining a pound or two a year, I never peaked above 125. My body was weird. I would gain two, lose three, gain one…all in the course of a month.

Birth control has solely been the factor *I think* in weight actually sticking. That and unhealthy eating habits.
I’ve always been a piggy but before I used to pig out to the same foods and of course not gain a pound. Now…I suck in air, that’s two pounds.

I remember when I was a size 7/9 in pants *due to the size of my ass* but looks as if I was still in a two. I remember arguing with everyone over the real size of my jeans because people were convinced I was trying to push off a bigger size in order to claim my fake Jamaican heritage.

Shit now a size 2 ain’t nothing but some leg warmers because that’s as high as they’re going.

And my shape is so weird that I appear smaller than what I really wear. I want to say I’m a pear shape but lately I have been looking a little “1 Liter” ish in the shape.

Mainly it’s my stomach. I hate it. Now it’s no hiding it. I officially have a stomach. A *gasp* muffin top. The only six packs that I have on me is that bundle of chips that rests on my stomach as I stuff my fat face.

I am so self conscious about my stomach, it’s really ridiculous.

I feel like I’m in sitcom where my character is pregnant but it’s not written in the show so I have to hide behind shit to mask my belly.

I’ve been using one of my obnoxiously big handbags *lol*

But you know what? This has been a long time coming.

The constant “Wow, you’ve gotten fat”, “Are you pregnant”, “What are you eating in DC? People?” the past few months usually warranted nothing more than an irritated sigh or a chuckle. I mean I’m not as fat as they claim right? I mean I can fit into majority of my jeans.

Ok until I couldn’t fit into my favorite pair of Ralph Lauren jeans.

No biggie. I mean they shrunk in the wash right? I know I shouldn’t have let JBN wash. Besides I have had the jeans since sophomore year of college it’s only natural to outgrow them right?

Then at work, “Tenacious…are you gaining weight?”

I mean one of my blazers was a little tight but that’s from the constant dry cleaning right? Damn Korean woman!

But Friday, my boat on the river of Denial sunk.

Friday by some force of craziness I agreed to work a double shift. The morning shift at my hotel and the evening shift at my old property because their staff was having a party.

Never again. My shift at my hotel was fine but I was so tired.

The shift at my old property was so boring, I found myself damn near falling asleep standing. I forgot they’re a little uptight over there and don’t like for anyone to have fun while working which is part of the reason I left.

To amuse ourselves, we chose to prank call the sister property and fuck with the staff over there. I was tempted to leave early but didn’t.

With a sky high credit card bill and JBN’s birthday on the 22nd, I needed the extra money.

So I worked 16 hours straight AND then turned around and went to LOVE with my girls who wanted to celebrate my impending promotion.

A running tab…I was up a full 24 hours with no sleep. I came in from clubbing at 4 am on the dot.

After a quick change, I was good to go. You couldn’t tell me I wasn’t looking fly with my red empire waist shirt, skin tight pants and red “do me” heels.

I was tired as shit but I wanted to party.

We had a hook-up at the door so we squeezed past security for the free and were waiting to get frisked by one of the bouncers. Yeah like I could carry a concealed weapon in my outside. Shit I could barely conceal my breast let alone a piece.

And then…my boat sunk.

Bastard Bouncer: *frisking me* Hey! I can’t let you in..
Me: *thinking it’s the bouncer who placed us in Detox the last time* Man…see I’m not even…

BB: We don’t let pregnant girls in the club.

Me: *blinks* But…I’m not pregnant.

BB: Well you look it.

Me: *snatches id* I’m just fat asshole NOT pregnant!

And stomped in the door. My girls were shocked. Sure they teased me about getting chubby but almost denied entrance because dude thought I was pregnant?!

A bitch’s night was ruined after that. The bastard was probably trying to be funny but I was self-conscious the entire night.

Sure I danced and got hollered at *I think it was a Kappas Function or something* and had to enforce the “One Dance Minimum” far too many times but it wasn’t the same.

*sigh* I’m fat.

If I were a white girl, I would soo be anorexic right now. Ok well not that extreme because shit I can’t just sit and starve myself. I get angry when I don’t eat every three hours so I know I’d be in jail for murder if I was anorexic *lol*

I did enjoy my evening. A little too much. I did get a few free drinks but that shit has a lot of calories. I kept my rum and DIET coke but gave the rest away.

Burned major calories on the dance floor. I think we danced to every song the DJ played. Hair sweated out.
By the end of the evening, my feet were burning so bad I could barely walk to the car. I mean my feet were red when I took my shoes off.

They were hurting so bad they were swollen by the morning which put a damper on my plans for Saturday. I couldn’t even squish my foot in anything other than my flip flops so I stayed in on Saturday.

BUT I did have an amazing talk with a friend on Saturday. Cleared a lot of shit up and got a lot of things out in the open.

I guess people don’t believe it when I admit I am borderline retarded with a touch of manic depressive and OCD.

All self diagnosed of course but pretty valid *lol*

Sunday was a repeat of Saturday. I laid around the house. On Sunday I really don’t do anything on the rare occasion that I am not working. I should take my ass to church but um yeah I might be struck down walking up in the Lawd’s house right now.

The car went into the shop on Monday so I am currently without a vehicle. It’s funny that in the two weeks that I have been driving regularly to work I now do not want to take Metro *lol*

Now I actually have to get up early *lol*

I think I might take up jogging. Can you picture me running around at 6 am with my shorts and New Balance sneakers?

Nah I can’t either. I’ll take my chances with the treadmill.

So how was everyone’s weekend? Anything new and exciting?