There are several things I dislike more than sweating. Â But sweating in a nicer social event is even worse. Â Yes, I realize I live in Arizona where it is hotter than Hades itself, but there is a reason why I live in the mountains and not in the 6th Circle of Hell that is Phoenix. Â I have never understood those people who have outdoor weddings in the summer in Phoenix (sorry CallieBear…I love you but it was freaking HOT). Â I do not want to feel puddles forming in my shapewear as I sit there watching a beautiful event. Â Ever tried to get sweat soaked Spanx off to go potty and then back on again….the amount of animal noises I make getting them back up triples from the first time I put them on and usually occurs in some sort of public bathroom. Â I am a fat girl and fat girls do not sweat pretty…just saying.
Normally, outside functions in Flagstaff are beautiful as we have gorgeous weather in the summer. Â Today, however, I went to a graduation ceremony that was outside that felt like a special hell. Â You know the one…the kind that they reserve for child molesters and people who talk in the theater (Browncoats who read this just rejoiced over the reference). Â Not only was it outside, but there was no shade. Â And I made a fat girl mistake. Â 1) I wore black pants. Â 2) I wore my long hair down. Â 3) Â I wore NO sunscreen. Â Yeah. Â Not my best effort today. Â To say I felt like a fat girl being dipped in the chicken fryer was an understatement (but that does remind me of how much I love fried chicken. Â And now I am craving KFC). Â I think I even felt my toes in my sandals baking in the heat. Â The fact that they turned into little red sausages was my first clue. Â The sweating started gradually, but soon there was no denying the fact that my fat rolls had versions of the Great Lakes forming under them. Â Knowing that there are family pictures to be taken after the graduation did not help. Â How do you explain why the fat girl in the photo distinctly looks like she went for a ride down Splash Mountain as she is drenched in her own sweat instead of magical water from a mountain where Brer Rabbit and his pals try to lull you into a sense of peace with their singing before you plummet to your death in a fake log with no seatbelts (can you tell how much I hate that ride?)? Â Ugh. Â There is just no way to get rid of the Great Lake sweat puddles in the fat rolls either in a graceful manner. Â It’s like I need my own sign that says I am a Wet Zone like at Sea World. Â Hmmmm. Â That sounded kind of dirty. Â It’s not like a fat girl sweats a little bit either….we tend to sweat a lot and in really weird places. Â I mean, who sweats in their crotch for goodness sakes? Â Oh yeah…this fat girl does. Â Great. Â Now I look like I wet my pants too. Â Awesome. Â And lets not even begin to discuss the river of sweat that pools into my bra….that could create a tsunami I am sure if I were to try to dump it out not to mention also not very graceful. Â But would be great for photo bombing other people’s graduation photos. Â I should have thought of that!

I also want to apologize to my readers for not writing lately. Â Been a hard week at work and I was not in a good frame of mind to write. Â Pretty sure it might have been venomous if I had….no one needs to face the fat girl wrath except the Ninja Kitten and she promptly got locked in the closet on one of the shifts. Â Sigh. Â Silly kitten. Â But no worries, dear readers, I am back without the venom and I won’t lock you in a closet unless you ask me to do so (freaks!)!
Oh yeah. Â I didn’t die today. Â I did end up with skin the color of a tomato as I proudly watched a graduation but I didn’t die. Â I am fat girl now with dry clothes and a sunburn running. Â The experiment continues.
I just watched that episode of Firefly last night! hahaha. Don’t feel bad about turning into a sweat-monster….I lived in Phoenix a LONG time and I was always horribly sweaty in the summer.
So, I live in a SweatCity too, but I’ve found the solid CertainDri stops me sweating. I’ll go for a run and I’ll sweat everywhere BUT my pits where I have on the stuff. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with rubbing a stick of the stuff all over in extreme situations. Who would know? And I think I must be the last girl on the planet not to wear spanx. It just seems so uncomfortable…so I guess we all have our dirty little secrets.