Sunday, September 21, 2008
Single girl is my shtick.
Every Cincinnati Loser has her own brand of blogging - some of us are mothers, some of us are vampy fashion mavens, some of us are brides-to-be and some of us are food and wine divas.
I am single. That's my "gig" ~ at least where blogging is concerned.
Most of the time it's great. I go to fun parties and have fun weekend afternoons, and I never have to hire a sitter or consult a man to determine whether his calendar coincides with my designs for decadence.
I sleep in late, I drink cocktails early and I eat whatever I want.
That all poses a problem when you're trying to make a little bit less of yourself in the world.
And that's the rub.
I've talked about this before on my blog, I definitely have a subconscious belief that if I can shed the pounds (or at least a few of them), I will make myself more attractive to a potential suitor.
I'll look good naked - and the men I meet will want to find out just how good.
But after a months-long dry spell (I think we were singing Christmas carols the last time I had sex), I have reached a strange point in my singleton universe ~ I'm ready to throw in the towel.
If my life were a movie, I'd be transitioning from the buxom, blonde main character into the crazy teacher who wears holiday themed sweaters and enjoys a solo home life with her many cats.
Yeah, not so sexy. Right?
And so every time my mother grabs my plump but pretty face, and tries to convince me You would have to beat the boys off with a stick if only you'd just lose some weight, I just want to yell I'm okay with the curve! I'm okay with the size 18! I'm okay with the one piece!
But sometimes I'm really not.
I actually would love to wear a two-piece while tanning along a sparkling, cerulean pool behind one of Vegas' most glamorous casinos. I'd love to wear a dynamite cocktail gown (without a bra) to an elegant black tie affair. I would love to skinny dip in a pool and not be self conscious about the part that comes between wearing clothes and diving in the water.
I am weathering this storm of indecision.
Sometimes it's a season of complacency dotted with determination. Other times it's period of militant commitment laced with brief indulgence ~ and sometimes I think this storm has more to do with my status of Single than it does my health or diet.
Right now I'm thick in the middle of the former - and it kind of sucks.
Oktoberfest (and the preceding days) rolled into my life, complete with goetta balls, fried pickles and the tastiest bier from the Homeland. I am fat and happy.
Or am I?
The scale shows that I have been living life on the lam - and now regret has infiltrated my psyche. For this week, I am taking a "bye" on the weekly weigh in~ even Weight Watchers gives you the option to abstain one time.
I've had my fill of fried food and (solo) reckless abandon.
It's time to get back on the wagon and hit the road headed towards a town called Success - both in weight loss and personal satisfaction.