quote:
Message to fat people:
Build more muscle. if you have more muscle, you burn more calories, even without exercising, just in your dailly routine. Its pretty simple, people...
Yeah, muscle-building, my nemesis.
I was absolutely convinced I was fat in high school (I hate all my classmates) but looking at pictures I realized I was rather hot. Jerks. Got even hotter in college.
Then I moved here, bought a car (6 months out of the year it's too fucking cold to ride a bike and three of those will kill you if you try), and moved into an apartment next to campus, a McD's, BK, Wendy's, and Baskin Robbins. Needless to say, after two jobs and full time school, I was too tired to bother with cooking so I huffed over to one of the fast food places.
30 extra pounds later, I moved to where I am now. I then met my Crazy Ex-Neighbor who introduced me to gourmet (and horrifically high fat) foods, the joys of delivery, and other bad habits.
An assload of extra pounds later, I got rid of the psycho (for other reasons) and have been dropping it ever since.
Unfortunately, all that fat is being replaced by muscle due to all the work I'm doing (and WalMart runs me ragged in heavy lifting, running (for my life), etc) so now I'm many pant sizes smaller (and have dropped another 4 sizes since last May...I desperately need new pants) but my weight is over 200lbs. And my boobs are still big so they hide the fact that I have a small stomach (always did). And my upper arms...dear god I hate them! It's like all the fat from anywhere else in my body flees in terror and hides out there. Plus I have this arsed layer of fat over everything (always have...farm girl genes) so while I should look like I could bench press a truck, I just look like a video game-playing slacker who drinks too much soda (which I do). And getting on the scale doesn't help at all.
On the plus side, I greatly enjoy picking up something really heavy and startling customers. Especially the condescending male customers.
Customer: "Oh, you don't have to carry that, sweetie, I can wait for a stockman."
Ivy: *hoists a couple bags of sand over one shoulder*
Customer: *sputter*
Ivy: *evil grin*
Plus I really hate it when people call me "sweetie." I am neither sweet nor an ie.
But I digress.
Craisins and apples are my snack of choice. I have been known to blaspheme in an effort to get the perfect apple.