Starting Monday…a journey to the finish…

I wrote this a few months ago, and they all still ring true.  In fact, I think I might add a few as I go.  Let me know your thoughts on these, folks.

“*First and foremost, I want to get rid of this giant, oversized roll of human flesh that dangles ever so ungracefully from my middle.  I loathe this thing more than math class, Paris Hilton, and current gas prices combined.  It is the most hideous creature to ever have the displeasure of adorning somebody’s body.  In fact, my body wouldn’t be nearly as repulsive if I didn’t have it.  From now on, I will refer to it as the beast.

*I want to have hot ass amazing, blow your mind sex.  I want to have sex so insanely powerful that the police have to be called because my neighbors think somebody is attacking me.  (I’m talking from the volume people).  I want to be able to explore positions that don’t remind you of a K-9, or make you look as though you are melting.  (You know what I’m talking about…leaning forward…skin saaaaaaaaags down.  You’ve got the mental picture.)  I want to look forward to sex…not dread it.  

*I want to be able to say, “I have a wedding to go to next month,” and go to the store, any store, and purchase a dress.  I don’t want to have to buy an accompanying undergarment that gives the illusion of a smooth silhouette.  I don’t want to have to purchase special tape to keep “certain things in place” because the damned sorry ass excuse for a dress just doesn’t fit properly.  I don’t want to be hobbling by the end of the night because my fatass is too heavy to be wearing heels for an extended period of time.  I want to look hot.  Does that sum that one up?

*I want to be wanted.  I want to walk around in public and have guys pay attention to me because of how incredibly gorgeous I am.  Not because of how incredibly fat I am.  I want to feel desired.  (Now people, don’t get me wrong…I’m in a happy, long term relationship.  But, for self esteem reasons…it’s nice, you know?)  I want to be hit on…this is something I’ve never experienced…at least that I’m aware of.  (I’m pretty sure about this…I like to think I’m a fairly observant person.)  Every bf I’ve had has been “found” via the internet.  I’m not afraid to admit this now…in that past…a bit.  I had a little technique in which I became accustomed…and it worked.  I would charm them with my personality, slowing hinting at the fact that I wasn’t a looker….and then as they were totally in love with me mentally, I’d break the news to them physically.  I know it sounds a bit warped and twisted, but they would get to know me for me BEFORE they saw me.  And by the time they actually saw me, it didn’t really matter.  Now, I’m not saying there was anything wrong with that…and I found my bf just like that (we’ve been together over 51/2 years now)…sometimes I just wish things could have been more traditional.  Like…I didn’t have to go to such measures.  Anyhoo, I think you know where I’m going with this.  It would be incredible to feel desired by a total stranger.  Definitely put a smile on my face!

*I want to fly coach, and not have the beast hang over both armrests…allowing passengers on both sides of me to enjoy the comfort of their armrests for their arms….not my roll.  I can’t tell you how mortifyingly embarrassing this is.  The times I’ve had this happen, my fellow passengers were generally pretty gracious about it…but still.  (And I didn’t have enough nerve to ask them if I could put the armrests up because my fat roll hanging over the sides was incredibly uncomfortable.  Just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  (Luckily I’ve not experienced the seatbelt extender.)  I never flew at my heaviest…and luckily, I have no problems fitting into the airplane seatbelt.)   

*I want to be able to cross my legs, and look sexy doing so.  Not this half assed lean that I currently do…I call it the “fat girl crossing.”  Yes, techinically they’re crossed, but you practically have to hold your breath to keep them there.  Think “Basic Instinct.”

*I want to be able to find jeans that fit me.  Once and for all.  I want to go into a store, say “Yes skinny little 17 year old high school trixie working at the Gap, I need a size 10.”  I want to put on those jeans, and have them enhance my amazing figure.  I don’t want to buy another pair of jeans with the mentality “at least they zip.”  I can’t tell you how many pairs of jeans I own that are way too huge in the ass, and too long, but fit me snugly in the waist because I have this oddly shaped freak body.

*One word: Abercrombie.

*I want to go to Dairy Queen and order the biggest hot fudge sundae, covered with nuts and whipped cream, complete with a cherry on top, and not get looks of disgust and disbelief from fellow patrons.  I’m tired of going and purchasing a 60 cal fat free sugar free fudge bar.  (Now people, don’t get me wrong, I adore the fudge bar.  It’s great. And great for you.  And I know the hot fudge sundae goes against EVERYTHING this blog stands for…but hell…everybody needs a hot fudge sundae every once in a while.  It’s only human!) 

*I want to go to a club and dance.  I want to dance and not feel self conscious about it.  I don’t want to be the loser fat girl standing against the wall, looking on while every other thin girl has a great time.

*I want to not automatically dislike every skinny girl I meet.  It’s horrible of me, I know.  But it’s like a programmed mental reaction within me…it’s something I just can’t seem to help, and it’s pathetic.  I want to stop judging these girls because of what they look like.  (A bit hypocritical, I know.  I never said I was perfect.)

*I want self esteem.  I want to feel good about myself.  I want to love myself.  I want to look in the mirror and like what I see, not cringe.  I want to wakeup happy, and look forward to another day on Earth, not dread it. 

*I want to be in public, and not think everybody is laughing at me, or talking shit about me.  (I know this sounds a bit neurotic, and really, it’s not.  A tad bit paranoid…perhaps.  A healthy dose of paranoia never hurt anybody.)  I want to not automatically assume the worst, at all times.

*I don’t ever want to walk into a Lane Bryant for the rest of my life.  Ever.

*I don’t want to be a fat bride.  (Marriage is a long way off for me…but it might happen…someday.)

*I want to be happy.

That’s just a brief list…and if I had all the time in the world, I could probably go on forever.  But I’ll stop for now.  I’m curious to hear your reasons. 

Indulge me.