I am sure if I pooped I would have more room for more food. Yup. That is the thought that went through my head today. Sad, huh? I don’t think you should consume meals like that on a regular basis. Ok I did manage to eat a salad for lunch but the burger, onion rings amd homemade lemon ice box pie are not healthy. Neither were the beignets I had for breakfast….oh but it was all so good. I must admit I failed on the workout front today. Nope. It didn’t happen. But all the walking at Graceland was really enough for my knee today. Plus the amount of children in the pool scared me. They don’t need to be scarred for life with the sight of the fat girl in a swimsuit.
There is something I have I have noticed while down here in the South besides the food which is a fat girl’s paradise. I mean let’s face it. Paradise is an endess buffet wrapped in bacon. And maybe part of it covered in caramel. Just saying. Wait. Where was I? Oh yeah…my point is that there are more fat girls in the South than in Flagstaff. Hmmmm. Maybe the creepy Silence Of The Lambs neighbor should move here. He could have more fat suits. The thing I really noticed is they are way more comfortable than myself in their fat girlness. It is something I can’t seem to overlook in myself. I notice evey fat wrinkle I can see. Today was a prime example. Trying to find myself a t shirt at Graceland that didn’t scream I was fat girl was ridiculous. I hate having to hold a t shirt up to myself and stretch it over my gut to see if it is a real extra large or not. Seriously. None of us wanna do that. It is humiliating. It stopped me from buying a super cute shirt cuz all I could picture was looking like a stuffed sausage with all my fat rolls competing to be one with The King. And not the fat overdosed Elvis either. The cute Elvis. He does not need my fat rolls in his face. Literally.
I must admit I bought a tank top today. What? Those two words bring fear to my throat as much as swim suit. I have lived several years without ever owning one yet just this year BFF convinced me to buy some and wear them. The fact that I bought one on my own is amazing. I could hear the excited thrills of the arm waggles to be set free in the tank top. I think they started waving on their own in joy and I looked down shocked looking I am sure to the salesgirl like a rabid Elvis fan. All that was missing was to start crying and screaming. Not like I haven’t done that before. Just recently in fact at a NKOTBSB concert. Don’t judge. Yes I was that forty year old at the concert jumping up and down screaming like I was thirteen. You know you wanted to do it too. It can be your secret shame. But much to the glee of the arm waggles, the tank top was purchased.
Tomorrow has the promise of more food. My pocket Momma knows how to feed the fat girl. Bbq pork with a side of cow is on the agenda. I might be in a meat coma by tomorrow night. Pass the colace.
Oh yeah. I didn’t die today but was in Elvis heaven. I am fat girl waggling arm eating myself into a coma. The experiment continues….