I Could Have Been Honey Moo Moo


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When I was a child, I was the most beautiful thing in the world. I sometimes wonder why my mom didn’t put me in beauty pageants like Honey Boo Boo Child, or just put me in modeling? Maybe I would have stayed thin, if I was a model. People always told her that I was beautiful; not just a pretty face. Mama, why didn’t you listen to nice strangers?

Sometimes I think what life would have been like had I been born skinny and not developed a weight problem. Pretty boring if you ask me. At least now I have a story to tell, and I can laugh at myself without getting depressed about it. I guess being fat was kind of like, my story, and it taught me a lot. It taught me not to eat after nine, it taught me how to stand up to bullies, and it taught me how to love me for me. I guess in a way I appreciate where I came from and how much I’ve accomplished.

Part of me can still wish I would have been in modeling though. I would have loved to dress in expensive clothing and drive around in a convertible all year and live in California. Until then, I will continue on dressing in Wal-Mart brand clothing (not really, but y’noh) and drive around on the metro around the city.

Those Damn Titties


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Last night, I was out for dinner with Ronnie and Auntie Candy Vagine to wish Duffy a great trip to Thailand. I’m really kind of jealous, now that I think about it- he’s going to be eating the best food for the next two months, and be losing weight too. Lucky kid. Anyway, while I was out, and watching those around me eat, I noticed that I had gotten rid of a problem that was bothering me since I was fifteen years old.

So, Auntie Candy was sitting and minding her own business, when I noticed that a little driplet of salad dressing had fallen off her fork and onto her busty mammary glands. I had advised her and she said in her loudest voice “Oh, those damn titties, always getting in the damn way”. I thought I was in a movie or something, but it actually really happened. It made me think, and I realized that this was a common occurrence in my life, and it had actually not happened in the last little while. I didn’t have boobies for bibs anymore, or maybe I’m just more careful. Who knows?

Let’s backtrack a little actually, I only got those “damn titties” when I turned fifteen. I was flat chested my entire life, and my mom kept asking when I would get them. She was really annoying about it. One day, they appeared. Either I ate something really fattening that got stuck at that part of my body, or my mom said I really HUGE prayer. Anyway. needless to say, those “damn titties” became such a big part of my life… literally. They were always in the way. I hardly fit into Victorias Secret, and I needed to wear those granny bras. Sometimes I thank God that I didn’t have to go so far as to get the bras that had the clasp in the front.

So here is my NSV (non scale victory) I am finally free of the evil boobie bibs! I have never been happier. Ronnie must also be happy, because there is way less laundry for her to do now!

Shopping With Ronnie


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This weekend, I did what every girl hates doing. Bathing suit shopping. However, to make it worse, I went bathing suit shopping with none other than my very opinionated, very honest, very Jewish Mother; Ronnie Ginger. Shopping is never fun, especially when the scale has been stalled for three weeks, and I’m feeling especially fatter and unmotivated than ever. My wise mom says that “no one likes to go bathing suit shopping”. In fact, she tried to prove this point! When she noticed a skinny slimmer girl looking through the section, she goes up to this innocent young lady and says “Hey, you’re skinny, you must hate shopping for bathing suits, don’t you? See Hilly, even skinny girls hate shopping for this stuff“. Seriously, what the eff did I get myself into, she talks to strangers, and embarrasses me, and why am I going shopping with her? I turned bright red, and made my oh-so-honest mother walk away from this poor girl.

While we were rummaging the aisles this time, we didn’t pick up any fantaSIZER or moomoo swimwear, and I also didn’t head to the plus size section. Go me! Before I go any further, please keep in mind, that just the sound of Ronnie breathing, makes me want to go on a wild rampage and rip things and smash holes into walls (I have anger problems, shut up). So, while I’m in the dressing room, huffing and puffing, breaking a sweat, Ronnie comes in all giddy and happy and asks me to come out so I can show her how it looks. Is she serious? Like I’m going to come out looking like an overstuffed walrus? Anyway, I get the nerve to come out and strut my stuff, Ronnie is standing there with this look on her face, and I’m expecting something like “NO, change now” to come out of her mouth,  but, I was surprised when she just started smiling and tells me how great I look- seriously Ronnie, what pills did you take before we went shopping?

My non scale victory of the week was that all the bathing suits fit me. I even had to take one in a size smaller because one we picked out was too big. Old me would have NEVER had to change something for the smaller size. Having this type of great feeling, makes me want to get back on track and start to get past this plateau that I am at. The fact that Ronnie and I went shopping and it didn’t result in even ONE fight, was nothing short of a miracle. Seriously, years ago, one of us would have ended up with a black eye and it wouldn’t have been me, just saying.