Here I go, girl

I've never been called dainty. I was the tallest person in my class--male or female--until junior high. While the rest of my classmates were still shopping in the kids' section, I was buying bras and old lady shoes. And yes, I did pageants for six years, which means that there was a time in my life when I willingly paraded around wearing a swimsuit in public, but it's not ever been something I'm comfortable with. I've always been the big girl.

As I've gotten older, my aversion to swimsuits hasn't changed. If anything, it's just gotten more pronounced. Thankfully there are few occasions that call for bikinis these days and I managed to avoid wearing a swimsuit at all for several years.

Something one can't avoid? Blue jeans. After all, they're America's casual wear. And when you're overweight, they're one of the hardest articles of clothing to buy. At my largest, I remember standing in front of the mirror at Gap, trying to find a pair that looked the least horrible on my fat thighs and covered my muffin top completely. It was painful, excruciating even, to try on that unforgiving denim. Bring on the yoga pants!

So it's not a coincidence that, 14 months ago, when I started this diet journey, I promised myself that getting to my goal size would be rewarded with a really great pair of blue jeans.

Yesterday was that day. After giving up on the Hogs' Oxford debacle, I traveled to Tulsa and entered the premium denim section of Saks. And while I'm still not ready for skinny jeans, I did purchase a really expensive pair of jeans that make me feel fabulous and help me celebrate the achievement of my goal. They're FOUR SIZES smaller than the jeans I bought just over a year ago. And yeah, they were an extravagant purchase, but every time I wear them, I'll think about all the hours and hours of sweat on the treadmill. The hundreds of yoga poses and thousands of gallons of water. All of the times I really wanted a cheeseburger but ate the salad instead.

I'll be showing off my fabulous butt in my new jeans this Friday evening on my date with Jen. :) Until then, it's lettuce and water.

Two-fer

Ok, I know I'm hateful and that I should stop laughing at this poor girl already, but really... if you're that clueless, stop broadcasting it on TV.



Because that's a catastrophe.

The other girl from that episode was smart, but just couldn't put down her fork and prepare for swimsuit, a condition that this former pageant girl can totally identify with. I'll let you guess which one won and which one ended up in tears. I'd like to tell that girl that someday she'd prefer to be 10 lbs. overweight to not being able to hold a real conversation. You can run some extra miles but, as Ron White would say, "You can't fix stupid."

I'm currently at a conference and our keynote speaker tonight was Walt Coleman, NFL referee imfamous for the tuck rule call that gave the Pats the win that led to a Super Bowl. He also makes milk, but he didn't talk about that much. He was supremely hilarious and I enjoyed him a lot.

In addition to numerous funny andecdotes, he did say one profound thing: we can't be perfect, but we can be excellent (yeah, tell that to Al Davis).

It's been a good day. Tomorrow is more conference and dinner and frivolity with Alisa. Yay!

Why pageants have a bad name...

It's not just Donald Trump. Here we have another glaring reason why people make fun of pageant girls.