Tuesday, December 29, 2009
my husband gives better presents than your husband. or, actually, any guy... ever. his stepmother tears up a little every time he buys me something amazing (like these aldo riding boots) and say, "well, he knows what you like..." while looking wistfully at his father. my husband gives the best presents.
which is probably why i feel so horrible that i can't wear these boots-- these fucking beautiful boots!-- until my KNEES are less fat. yeah: my fucking KNEES. when he gave them to me (christmas eve eve) i immediately put on the right one and admired it. then he told me i can't wear them anywhere until i condition & protect them, so i took it off, gently wrapped it in tissue and returned it to its box.
last night i convinced him that i would be COOOOOOOOOOOLD today, in the wind and the 29* high, and that it would be dry and i would be inside and they would be SAFFFFFFFFFE, ohplease, ohplease, ohplease!
the right one didn't zip up as well as it did five days ago. the left one... there was serious maneuvering to get in to. and then, and then... i stood up.
and knee fat visibly bulged over the tops of my boots making a creepy lump hang around my inner knee parts shouting "look at me! look at me! fatass attempting fashion!!"
(and, just so we're clear, NO i didn't even consider tucking my pants into the boots. though the look is growing on me...)
it's not muscle. it's not, oh, i just have thick calves. it's really, truly, squishy, squashy FAT. knee fat.
dear amazon.com: the sooner you could get jillian & that food scale here the better. kthxbai.
dear becklette: i hope you regret that piece of semi-frodo white chocolate-honey cake at your mom's last night. and the pizza. and the chili's meal the day before. and stuffing your face at three consecutive nights of family holiday events. and quitting running when the rains started in april. and gaining those 50 pounds in the first place. and gaining back the other thirty. and, actually, getting fat in kindergarten instead of being NORMAL and enjoying social interaction. and... fuck me.
i can't believe i'm too fat for a pair of shoes.