Hot Mama’s Tip for the Day: Instead of spraying perfume on your wrists, try spraying it on the backs of your hands. Every time you gesture or ‘talk with your hands’, your scent will be released to the world…or at least the people standing around you.
I was gesturing with my hands a lot today. Actually, I am pretty sure I was flailing my arms, running back and forth, and basically having a tantrum. In my own head at least. I do that a lot. This is why I have an anxiety problem. My inner tantrum never makes it way out my brain. My emotions bottle up until Hot Papa, bless his heart, gets home from work and I take it out on him. In an effort to not do that today, I am going to release my emotions to all of you. I apologize in advance for what I am sure is going to come off as me being a ranting, raving, lunatic. But please read…Hot Papa will thank you.
The reason why I was flailing-in-my-brain today was because I realized that my body makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. I found this out at the dress shop where I was getting fitted for a bridesmaid dress for Wikki’s wedding. According to my measurements, my body is three sizes…suck, suckier, and suckiest. My hips were size suck. They were the least of my worries because no matter what my weight is, (and believe me people, it fluctuates…a LOT.) my hips are always semi-narrow. Bust was size suckier… I wasn’t even too upset about that though…my boobs are sorta big, and normally this is a good thing. It was my waist…my waist was size suckiest.
I am just one of those people whose waist is not where it belongs…I have always had sort of a high waist, which is why I spend a good part of my day trying to hike my pants up. Ever since having kids, it’s gotten even worse because now I have a high waist AND a thick waist. Not a good combo, especially for formal gowns. It makes me want to get wasted. But since I just put $100 down on a $230 gown in the completely wrong size, well, getting wasted is probably a terrible idea… I need to lose 20 lbs by April, no ifs, ands, or buts. Why did I order the wrong size you ask? I had planned to go with size suckier, the middle of the three stupid sizes, cause I figured it would be ok, adjustments could be made. But guess what?! Suckier brought me up to a different size bracket and according to this particular dress shop, I should be punished for this. Punishment for extra fat…forty extra dollars. Well f*** me gently with a chainsaw, Heather.
When the dress fitter lady (who was of course my same height and probably weighed as much as my waist all together) told me this, I nearly fainted. I am being punished because I can’t fit into the sample size? The extra couple inches of fabric are worth forty dollars? I have to leave this place feeling horrible about myself? Now, bear in mind people, I am not some huge obese person..I have 25 pounds that I have been gaining and losing for the past 5 years. I think I am like most women, or at least like a lot of them in this regard. It is not something that I am proud of…I wish that I could stay at the thinner version of myself forever. But shit happens. I wish so very, very much that I could love and accept myself at any size…but how am I supposed to do that when others can’t? How am I supposed to do that when I am made to feel like an asshole in a dress shop where I am spending a lot of money? How can I love my body in a world where my little bit of extra body fat is costing me extra money? So I said screw it, order me the smaller one. It’s the principle. I know I can lose the weight…I have done it before many, many times. And I know that the next time I walk into that dress shop, I am probably going to feel a lot better then I do right now.
As for right now, though, I feel pretty awful. And sad. No wonder teenage girls have such a hard time growing up in this society…every corner you turn, people are basically telling you to be skinny, or you will pay…and pay you will, in more ways than one.