You know, losing weight really gives you some good insight into people.

When you’re losing weight, people alllll notice and they comment and they want to know how you’re doing it so they can lose some ass too.

When you’re gaining, they notice, but only the few, the proud, the truly gauche actually say anything. You never hear people saying to you, “Wow, you really lost some weight, but your ass is getting bigger every day, tubby. How are you doing that? Can you tell me? Because, damnit, I been trying to get some more blubber onto my frame for a while now and NOTHING’S WORKING! Share your secrets!”

About the only person who tells me I look pretty and beautiful anymore is my sorta-boyfriend. But whenever he gives you a compliment about how you look, it’s like a two-edged sword. Why, you may ask? Because he likes fat chicks lol. Good lord, he likes seeing jiggling flesh…and that is the only thing I am sayin about that. You can see why his compliments don’t carry a whole lot of weight. If you ask him if you look fat, he’ll say no, because that’s not how he sees it. He sees a beautiful girl and that’s all he sees.

When I was REALLY REALLY fat (ie 369 pounds), I used to sit there and think, gee, I wish I could look at myself like an anorexic does, cause then I would starve myself and lose the weight and then I would be happy. I never used to think about my weight all the time in terms of oh gosh I’m gaining some! Because I had never had the experience of being someone that people LIKED looking at. Someone that was considered by many to be “hot”.

Well now I’ve had that experience. So while I do look better than when I was at my top weight, I do not feel good about that. Because now I know what I could look like. I know how things could be.

But there are some benefits to being fatter again – the maintenance man would probably be into me a lot worse if I looked any better than this. It would be even harder to deal with that whack job.

Mood Swings and Personality Facets
I bet anyone who should be so fortunate as to stumble on this blog will read these posts that are variously happy and manic and then sad and despairing to angry will sit there and think…so umm, how many little friends are in there with you Secretary? None, it’s just me, the uncensored moi.

Oh dear….I think I did a bad thing…
We’re going to my friend’s house tonight and that could be bad because I am bringing Niece…who has a rather large facial orifice. Of course she does, she’s four. Soooo let’s just all pray that Niece doesn’t say anything about my sorta-boyfriend being in the hospital recently because I really don’t want to explain how she knows that or why she knows that. I am just trying to keep that particular part of my personal life out of my friend’s sphere of knowledge. She would probably have a conniption, then be nice. Then a few days later she would tell me that she doesn’t like it and that I’m ruining my life, blah blah blah. Whether she’s right or not isn’t the point – the point is that it’s something I have to figure out on my own. So please pray for me that Niece doesn’t say anything. Damnit.