“Hi, it’s Cate. Remember me? From Craigslist? I sold you that Step 2 wagon last week? I’m not a psycho or anything, but I just felt that we had a connection and would really like for us to be friends. Wanna get together and meet at the park?”
I wish. Then I wouldn’t feel like such a loser right now. Friendless and all. I don’t even know at what point it got to be so hard to make friends. In elementary school, you just blurted it out, you know? “Hey you, wanna be my friend?” And if that didn’t work out, you’d say, “You suck. You’re not my friend anymore.” It was so easy and simple. But maybe I’ve lost my mojo. My friendship juice. I do think that part of it has a lot to do with the way I pick my friends. I’m what you call a shallow person. But before you go all crazy on me, allow me to explain. I pick my friends initially according to how they appear physically. Much like I used to do back in my dating years. Don’t get me wrong, however. It’s still their character that ultimately determines their merit. But is that so wrong? I know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but isn’t it also true that “you are whom you frequent?” I want friends that would motivate me physically, someone I can share things with like, running and working out. I’m not a gym rat or a work-out-holic by any means, but I felt my best when I looked my best. And I just want to get back to feeling that way again.
In the last four years, after having the kiddos, I have not been able to get back to my pre pregnancy weight. And it’s been a hell of a load (pun intended) on every aspect of my life. Just today, I was pushing both the kiddos in the stroller at Marshall’s and some lady says to me, “Wow! 2 and another on the way?” I was thinking, “What the fuck are you talking about?” but said instead, “No, I am all done with kids, thank you. This shirt just makes me look bloated.” Doesn’t that just make you wanna go home and starve yourself?
Yet somehow, in spite of being 30 elbees overweight, I’m still mentally fit. So in my mind, I still look for friends that are physically in shape, like I was before the pregnancies. So when I roam the gym or church or mall or meetup groups, I tend to have my blinders on, only looking in directions where my old self used to fit in, never even considering for a moment that I too am being judged. Perhaps these physically attractive people are looking at me and seeing someone who is not a good fit for them. Maybe because of my current weight, they are unable to see what true beauty lies within me. Ironic, isn’t it?
Two Tons of Fun
I really wanna sue Lifetime. They have misled me. They created an image in my head that getting pregnant and having babies is a wonderful joyous event. You too TLC. Your day is coming. But for now, I’m gonna stick with LTFW. Yes they show you the throwing up part and the getting up in the middle of night for some ice cream and your baby daddy has no choice but to drive in the middle of the night to satisfy your craving, which by the way, never happens. I think it was just invented by some pregnant lady because she was too pissed off she had to be the one to carry the child for nine months and somehow push that watermelon out of her Pek-Pek (Vagina). I say good for her. But I was unlucky enough to not have taken those days for granted. Probably because my husband was deployed during my pregnancies, yes you heard right. Both pregnancies. If I didn’t know any better he planned that shit so he doesn’t have to be around his hormonal loco wife. I guess I don’t blame him. I would have done the same if given the opportunity.
Yesterday after hitting the gym so hard, I decided to look at myself (body) in the mirror to see if there’s any hope to getting back to what I used to look like. And as it turns out, there isn’t. I mean, even if I get back to my old little self, there’s all these excess skin on my belly. It’s almost like that episode of Jon & Kate Plus Eight, where they showed her belly from carrying a total of 8 babies, except mine is minus 6 babies. I have stretch marks that not even Strivectin SD can get rid off. It seems like my only option would be to do what Kate with a K did. Surgery. But I’m in a predicament because my husband has only committed himself financially for a boob job. It looks like I might have to hit the streets to make some extra moola but who would want to have sex with someone that has a beer belly and doesn’t even drink beer? I also thought of maybe starting a foundation, charging $200 a plate. But considering I really don’t have many friends or connections, I won’t make enough to cover the whole procedure.
So I’m left with only one option. The American way. This is after all, the land of opportunity and since I’m an opportunist, I am going to sue someone. I can’t sue my kids because well, that’s like stealing from my self. The same goes for the husband. Maybe my Primary Care doctor for not warning me about the side effects of children. I mean, if I were a doctor and some lady walked into my office telling me she and her husband are thinking of having a baby, I would be like, “Well, Some Lady, kids are cute when they are babies. They also make for great excuses, but my job is to inform you of all the plus and negatives of babies. Since I’ve mentioned the pluses, here are the side effects. Insomnia, Wrinkles, Hemorrhoids, Migraines, Weight gain, Stretch Marks, Loose Skin & Pek-Pek, Hormonal Imbalance, Stress, and that’s only the beginning, should I go on?” Then I would have been like, “Oh hell to the no Doctor! Say no more! I’m keeping my bad ass body and my sanity.” But she didn’t warn me about any of that. And I’m positive she knew of all the side effects. I think I might have a case. Suing her would probably get me a little fortune but I always aim high and I am going for the big one! Lifetime TV. So what do you all think? Do you think I can win? Any suggestions? And just in case you’re wondering, here’s exhibit A. Before and After pics. You be the judge.
So, what brings you here? Looking for an exciting read? Or are you just bored? To tell you the truth, my life is not all that exciting either. I just make it seem like it is. I puff it up. Really. I do. Sooo, what do you want to know about me? I’ll start off by telling you all the cool, nice things about me. If this were a dating site, this would technically be our first date, so I must represent myself in a manner that would make you want to come back for more. Yes, I am expecting a second date. I am not going to divulge everything about me right now, that would require some wining and dining on your part. But to sum it up, I’m pretty awesome and quite attractive. I’m not joking. Go ask my husband. You may not see my cheek or collar bones at the moment, but I am in there somewhere. But, I am a work in progress, contrary to popular belief of my being perfect. Everyday is a struggle to lose weight. If I can sue my kids for ruining my nice boobs and “baddaaww” body, I would totally do it. They have completely ruined me. So on top of having to clean up poops and throw ups and making meals and cleaning house all day, I also have to hit the gym so I that I may see a glimpse of the old hotness I used to be. I’m sure my husband is eagerly awaiting for her return. I’m gonna have to keep it short for now. You’ll have to come back if you want to know more. Ciao. That’s Italian for hello or goodbye. You know, like Aloha.