I always manage to have a zit in the perfect spot.
why hello there double chin.
my boobs are like Lena Dunham small.
by the end of it I wonder why trin finds me attractive.
I'll always be this overweight "super-cool" girl. never the star. always the sidekick. I know all the shit. you just don't care about getting in my pants.
I'm always game for a "get-skinny-quick" test of fate.
I remember the ducan diet and going to the Phoenix show. that pipeline that gushed a billion gallons of oil just busted into the Gulf of Mexico. I sat with my exboyfriend A at the time and ate roast beef out of a cooler in the backseat of his white car. all protein. no carbs.
hopefully I would have been gushing pounds at the time, but I found beer and carbs and shit went downhill. because sometimes life and fun get into the way of losing weight.
I look at the myriad of ex girlfriends all of my boyfriends have seen and take a deep look at my thighs. I see the dimpled remnants of where sexy used to be.
we all can't play dumb. this was well before the birth of the babe.
no more soda. no more fast food.
you stare at the bodies of women thinner than you and wonder what the hell happened? when did my love of graeter's ice cream let it go?
why do these men I love allow it?
and how pissed would I be if they didn't allow it and said something to me?
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