Scariest Halloween ever!

Originally I wanted to do a 1980s Olivia Newton-John style workout ensemble. I know this will come as a shock; but I was unable to find a pastel, spandex, high-cut bodysuit in my super jumbo size. I was fairly bummed about it and spent a lot of time pouting about it. So, I waited until the very last possible minute to come up with something to wear to show my holiday spirit and somehow maintained my enthusiasm.

I looked through my past costume pile and was reminded of a costume I had pulled off quite well a couple years back. I went to a party with a theme of "dead things." I loved how broad a theme it was...it left so much room for interpretation. There were dead fads (like disco), dead animals (see: roadkill), the reanimated dead, and dead famous people (the category I belonged in). 

I present:

Bea Arthur

(I love her)

I decided to do it all over again for a new audience, without the "Bea." I had just purchased the greatest granny-style suit at my favorite thrift store for a whopping $3.50, so all I needed was the white hair spray.

Done and done.

 

This is what happens when my sister is the photographer....... 

 

And this too:

I must admit, it is kind of terrifying to face yourself in your 60s when you're in your 30s. I just hope I don't have nightmares tonight.

Less about thrifty closet, more about fat

Brace yourself for a rant.


I am fucking hating telling people that I have decided on a lifestyle change...especially one that is centered around a healthier way of eating. Don't get me wrong, some people have been wonderfully supportive. And thank goodness for them.

Here's the but: there are people who, upon telling them of the changes I've made or explaining why I'm saying "no thank you" to one of my favorite treats, looks at me as if to say "of course you are, you're on a diet because you're fat." That is SO not the case. I think I'm a fucking cute fatty....and it was not easy for me to get to that point in living in this thin culture. It was not easy and it took a long goddamn time for me to love me as I am. The reason I've decided to make the changes in my eating is that I'm sick of feeling tired and old. The weight loss that has happened is a side effect of wanting to feel better. I just hate, hate and feel resentful, that some fucking people see my efforts as some attempt to conform physically to a stupid societal norm. And it makes me crazy.

Alright. I am glad I got to get that off my chest.

Stupid foot...

So this last week two things contributed to the extreme lack of posts:

a) I was out in New Jersey for 6 days spending endless hours in lectures, scavenger hunts, team building exercises, and group healthy dining.

b) My boo boo foot bummed me out and left me with an overwhelming sense of self-pity that manifested in poor packing for my week. And I didn't think anyone wanted to see me in over-sized sweatshirts and yoga pants.


Now that I am home, I promise, I will bring y'all some rad images of cute lil'ol me. For now I will just add a few pictures of me playing dress-up.

TFC'S SWIMSUIT EDDITION

A few weeks ago my employer posted an opportunity to go to a 6 day healthy eating immersion camp. They  pay for the whole thing, transportation and all. I figured: "Why not? What else have I really got going on? I've never been to the east coast before." So here I am. In New Jersey. I've attended some really great lectures and eaten nearly my weight in veggies...but...I'm hobbling around on a crutch, unable to participate in the nature walks and hikes and workout sessions.

 I'm a little bummed, for sure. That and I've not had my vices (sugar and coffee) in two full days. I kinda want to sleep all the time and kinda want to punch someone.

Maybe, instead, I'll go for a swim at the resort's heated pool.

 May I present:

TFC's Swimsuit Eddition!

Man Down.

Gina Marie got a booboo.

I stepped in a pot hole yesterday and sprained the holy hell out of my poor little foot. I don't know if I'm more bummed about the pain or the fact that I can't wear any of my babies; my little peep toes, my sexy ankle boots, my slinky sling backs, and my beautiful boot collection. They will sit in the closet, neglected and alone until my foot no longer looks like a potato. A sad time in the fatty's closet.

 So, for now, I am limited to a few less than glamorous looks.

Sister love.

I fucking love my sister.  She is my biggest fan and cheerleader. (not to mention my photographer)

When I brought home the pantsuit pictured in a previous post, she gushed over it. Loved it. Wanted one for herself. Mentioned it in passing a couple times a day, every day. So what does any amazing big sister do in a situation like that? Stop by the shop and pick one up for her, that's what. I was not expecting the reaction I got when I gave it to her (see: threw it at her face when I walked in the door). She squealed and jumped and giggled and hollered. It was as if she won the lottery. IT WAS THE BEST REACTION TO A GIFT OF CLOTHING I HAVE EVER SEEN. I guess I fucked myself for Christmas, I'll never top that one.

On a side note, I am pretty sure my bargain shopping has turned into a full-fledged addiction. I cannot stop...and honestly, I really don't want to. I acquired  a few new items today while killing time between work and a movie. I am super tired, but trust! I will share them with everyone shortly.