Thursday, December 26, 2013
It didn't fit.
Then she gave me a backup gift, a gorgeous black and white tweed suit, size 16.
It didn't fit.
Two years ago, I celebrated Christmas as a size 12, approximately 187 pounds.
Yesterday I celebrated Christmas as (maybe? barely?) a size 16, exactly 236 pounds.
So I cried.
I thought I had it figured out, but no. The cycle continues.
Friday, September 20, 2013
But driving home today, I had a God honest epiphany about that facet of my life.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
You totally weren't expecting that, were you? I'm sneaky like that.
So, I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but my body basically hates me. And by hates I mean in purely superficial ways like OMG I KEEP GAINING WEIGHT WHAT THE FUCK AND MY FACE LOOKS SHITTY AND MY HAIR WON'T GROW AND NO ONE IS EVER GOING TO LOVE ME AND I'M GONNA DIE ALONE.
In a nutshell.
How sick does it make me that I legitimately fantasize about having a diagnosable disease to justify my weight gain and/or getting punched in the face so hard I have to have my jaw wired shut so I'm forced to lose weight? Really, on a scale of 1-10, is that more or less than a 9? I'm thinking 8.2 (I mean, it's not like I'm considering actually not eating 'cause... cake) but I'm biased. Whatevs.
In other news, my job still employs me, so that's cool. I'm also still single, but also still child, STD, and stalker free, so win.
Also, I'm writing a book.
Well, ok, I'm going to write a book. I haven't actually started, but I have the idea. Kinda. Actually...
Look, I'm gonna write a book, ok? Ok. Think Bridget Jones' Diary + shit that applies to Black people. And in this book Black is gonna be capitalized all the fucking time because mine.
I hope you guys will read it. Or at least don't and say you did.
Peace out, homie.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
I was not swept out to sea by Sandy, nor was I committed to the looney bin due to constant exposure to political commercials (#MyPresidentIsSTILLBlackAndNotALiarAndNotAJerkAndComesByHisTannedSkinNaturally). Nope, I've just been
But that's not why we're here today. Nay, we are here to discuss *drum roll pleeeeeeeeease* ONLINE DATING. I now have pointed observations on the subject due to my extensive (read: not quite one full month) foray into the area.
Yes, you read that correctly. Me. Online dating. Correct.
Here's the thing: I spend a lot of time bemoaning my love life. Which is kinda annoying. And sad. But mostly annoying. So I figure, I really can't justify complaining if I'm not actually doing anything to change the situation. And yes, I know
Good in that it's definitely making me put some effort into moisturizing my situation (!!!), but bad because oh good Lord. Without further ado, things important notes from my experience online dating:
- Spelling and grammar are important. Indeed, they are paramount. When the first impression someone has of you are the words you write, it would probably be best if your opening sentence did not in any way resemble the following- "hi. Im a reel kool guy, jus loking four a nice yung ladie who under stands me. Ands a freeek!!"
- You should probably not make your interest in sex the main highlight of your profile- "I love sex, and I'm real good at it. I'm real freaky so I hope you are too. As long as it's not the 3rd Saturday of the month, I'll have your ass bouncing off the walls (I've got my kids that day).
- (Black) People really have kids hardcore by my age. I thought that might have been an urban myth, but I'm pretty sure online dating just burst me out the middle-class, college-educated bubble. Oops.
- If you have 5 pictures, and all 5 of the pictures have other people in them, you're trying to hide your ugly. No exceptions.
- Pictures all from the waist up? You're short. All from the chest up? You're fat. All camera phone selfies? Friendless. Undisputed.
- Job: "I'll tell you later" = unemployed; Education: "I'll tell you later" = high school dropout; Children: "I'll tell you later" = 4 kids, all aged 3.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
I'm having skin issues for the first time in my life and my face looks like crap.
Tired of hearing myself say I'm lonely, tired of typing it out here, tired of worrying about it.
I live vicariously through romance novels.
I don't have a fair pair of jeans.
I don't have any outfit I can put on that makes me feel gorgeous.
I sit at home most weekend nights.
My mother is my most constant companion.
I feel like everyone is progressing in their lives except for me.
I miss DC.
I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.
I hate that no matter how much I work out, if I don't eat perfectly I gain weight.
I hate that I already know I'll have to work out and eat blandly for the rest of my life or else I'll blow up like a balloon.
I wish I were funnier.
I do not know how to flirt.
I am sick of hearing myself whine.
I'm always surprised when my superiors tell em they think I'm good at my job.
I'm still waiting to go on a great adventure.
My mother unexpectedly cleaned my bedroom for me and she found absolutely nothing dirty, awkward, naughty, or scandalous. I don't know whether to be proud or ashamed.
My crazy is crazier than ever.
Friday, June 22, 2012
2. Law firms like to give you lots and lots of free alcohol and free (bad for you) food.
3. Lots of free alcohol + lots of free (bad for you) food = Lots of non-free shopping because you've gained too much weight to fit into your formerly "skinny" clothes. Damn it.
4. Do. Not. Piss. Off. The. Secretaries.
5. Running 3.1 miles is doable!
6. Running 3.1 miles with a blister is less doable.
7. Blister gel/cream preventer stuff does not work.
8. There are exactly 16 Black people in my firm. Total.
9. It's so easy to spend money when you've got money.
10. Don't ever take a job where you have to bill hours. Trust me on this.
11. It is totally appropriate to wear flat jeweled sandals to the club in June, and don't let anyone tell you differently.
12. Rooftop parties are fun.
13. Walking through an alley that smells like a schizophrenic homeless woman's underwear to get to said rooftop party is not fun.
14. The attractive, Black, cool, male lawyer is not totally an urban legend. If only I could remember his name...
15. As long as you look busy and type furiously, no one will bother you while you're on your computer at work. Even if you're blogging.
P.S.- 16. Three day weekends should be mandatory.