In lieu of disappointment and utter regret I will say that eatig my cooking for the last year has been fabulous in the mouth. And horrifying in the stomach. I'm not talking the small fleshy orb that is my little stomach within my rib cage (or thereabouts), but my all out, or rather, all around blubber that cascades over my pants and has recently been having a love affair with my lap when I sit. Laying down seems to be the only viable option if I want to feel even an ounce of security in my choice to cook and eat what I've made. So, I only seem to look down when I lay down, and even then I am miserable at the lumps and bumps. I liken it to a "pond effect." What I mean by that is the flattening when you make contact with a surface, the sheer area you expand outward to is grossly enormous, it is rippled and jiggles, wobbles and looks like something live inside with every breath. TONIGHT is the night. Tonight I will go to the gym. The ellipticalis my friend and will make me hot, sweaty and tired, but it will not let me down. It will work my pond scum into shape. I just hope and pry that the shape of my pond scum is relatively the same shape I was when I was fourteen.
I will not be a victim of my own clothes!
That's right. Let's take a look at peopleofwalmart.com. Go ahead, look, smirk and even giggle, but do you know how many people allow their clothes to eat them? My mother has always been a firm believer in large sized clothes and flannel. Ignoring the flannelizms, the shortage of correctly sized shirts and pants relative to the body they cover. Looking back at the peopleofwalmart, we see bulges and bubbles, tires and handles in place we never thought would need to be lifted. From my flub to yours, keep it smooth.
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