I started off today with a trip to the Y with my BFF to ride the fat jiggling bike. Couldn’t start off the pre-vacation with not working out. I kept my eyes off the fat roll jiggling while talking about BFF’s work shift but I couldn’t help notice the fat rolls that were bothering me were now on my sides. You know the ones. All fat girls are aware of the dreaded side boob. Today that was all that I could think of as I was jiggling around on the bike. I could feel the side boob fat sliding out of my sports bra like a sneak attack worthy of Ninja Kitten. Whatcha! Here I am! Side boob! Did ya miss me? This was compounded by the fact that I braved a tank top to work out in so not only was I aware of the side boob tapping me on the shoulder, but also the arm waggle. Ew. My arms don’t need to waggle. It’s like a whole second wave when you move your arms. Who needs to see that? Not me I say. Luckily the half hour went by quickly and I was able to escape with some dignity since there were not many people working out yet this morning.
I then moved on to my pre-vacation massage. Ahhhh. If you have never indulged in a massage I highly encourage you to do so. If you live in Flagstaff and want a good massage therapist, then let me know and I will highly recommend Sherry. She is a goddess. Now, you may wonder how a fat girl handles a massage. Let me tell you. It is the one place for an hour each week that I don’t even think about being a fat girl. Seriously I don’t. Why? Because I know my massage therapist doesn’t care. She is just wanting to help me and help me she has over the years. I don’t pay attention to my fat self laying on the table. Oh I did at first. But I got lost in that wonderful feeling and the next visit I was practically stripping off my clothes to jump on her table naked and have the fat girl relax. So if I can do it, then you can to. Try it. You will feel fantastic. I promise. And I guarantee you will not feel fat that entire hour.
So as part of my pre-vacation indulgence, I decided to indulge in my love of reality tv. Did I mention I am a reality tv whore? I was seriously excited about the premiere of Survivor tonight with the only thing topping that being the premiere of Glee next week. Yes I am a Gleek but let’s save that for another time. So I sit here watching Survivor, savoring the fact that they brought back Coach and Ozzie and then it hit me. Hey! Where’s the fat girl? Every single one of the girls on the show are skinny. I mean I guess this makes it easier to survive since they obviously don’t eat anyways but come on! Put in a fat girl and see how she does! Do you think fat girls can’t survive? Pretty sure most of us can. If I can run from the Silence Of The Lambs guy, then I could do some of the challenges. Of course, hoisting my fat flass over a wall might prove to be difficult and embarrassing to a slight degree. Who am I kidding? It would terrify me to be on national tv in all my fat glory trying to tie that bandanna around my pasty white fat roll. Can you imagine? Would the bandanna even reach around? Pretty sure it wouldn’t. It might cover my boobs but would not stretch down to cover all the fat rolls. It would be like a bad bikini. Gross. Ok so maybe competing on Survivor is not in my skill set.
Tomorrow I set off on my fat girl adventure to Memphis with the pocket Momma. Its like a game of Where’s Waldo except it is Where’s The Fat Girl? Don’t worry. I shall keep you updated on the experiment as I promised to try and workout while I am there. Seriously? Who am I? Who thinks to even look if the hotel has a fitness area? Goodness. I might become that girl who does lunges down the hall and runs the stairs on my breaks. Let’s hope not. I beg my co-workers to please stop me and smack me around a bit. I might like that. Oh wait. This is not the place to discuss that. Let’s lock that door.
Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. I am fat girl with side boob poking me on the shoulder and arm waggling at me. The experiment continues….