Weight weight, don’t tell me.

Things people say about my weight that weird me out:

I bet you’re beating off the boys with a stick now.

Umm. Huh? First of all, no. No. I am not. I live in the suburbs, where every man is married with 2.5 kids and a upside down mortgage. Second of all, why wouldn’t I have been beating them off with a stick before?

Keep it up.

What the crap? I lost 54 pounds. How in the name of all that is caloric are you not satisfied? What if I just want to keep it down for a while. Gawd.

Oh. Wow. I didn’t recognize you.

Really? You didn’t? For real? That’s insane. I still have the same eyes, nose and pink purse. You need to look closer next time.

I bet you’ll be married in no time now.

Really? Is that all I needed. You’re probably right. I mean, heck I saw a nice young man at the Wal-Mart yesterday, I bet he’ll marry me, what with the fact that I lost weight and all. Give me a break.

You’re skinnier than me now. You suck.

Umm. In fact, you are the one who sucks. I worked my behind off for the last six months so I could weigh two pounds less than you and you’re JEALOUS? Why don’t you just give up soda for like a minute, lose your stupid two pounds, and we’ll call it all even.

Do you feel healthier?

What does that even mean? It’s like asking if someone feels “30” on their birthday. I feel like Crystal.

.

Uh. Dude. I LOST 54 POUNDS! I think that should at LEAST qualify me for a, “You look nice today.” How are you not going to say anything?

And now, one that someone said that was perfect.

Your thighs look smaller.

Courtesy of my little sister. Just out of the blue. All, “Your thighs look smaller.” Made me giddy for bathing suit season.

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Iraq you say?

I met a boy this weekend while at a umm, place people dance to very loud music and flashing lights.

He’s super cute, and a Marine and I really like him.

And when we met in the middle of the dance floor, I was all “So, you’re a Marine? Have you ever been to Iraq?”

He shook his head yes.

Seeing as how I’ve written about 739 stories about soldiers who’ve been in Iraq, I then started asking him relatively specific questions about his experience. I asked about the weather, and the living arrangements and what exactly he did while he was there, and how long he was there, and how his family dealt with all the stress and I think I even asked him how he felt about Obama shifting focus so that more troops were headed toward Afghanistan.

And then, like three hours later, I was still bringing it up, and he looked at me, with these gorgeous brown eyes that reminded me bite-size pieces of milk chocolate, and said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t lie to you. I’ve never been to Iraq. I didn’t hear you when you originally asked me on the dance floor, so I just shook my head yes, and then before I knew what was happening I realized you thought I’d been to Iraq, and I couldn’t go back. But, I’ve never actually been there. I’ve been to Hawaii though.”

At least I know the man can’t lie well under pressure – that’ll probably be useful later.

Plus, did I mention he’s super cute?

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Prediction: Fun times loom

Holy glitter and strawberries, I CANNOT WAIT TILL FRIDAY.

Why isn’t it Friday yet?! It should be Friday right this very second.

Ug. Friday is taking SO. LONG. to get here. I want it to be Friday like yesterday.

Actually, I’d settle for 11 p.m., Thursday night. Because after that, I’ll have FOUR GLORIOUS, MAGICAL DAYS OFF WORK!

I will also immediately get into my Ford Escort, ignore the engine warning light (as is my usual custom), and book it to Naperville, Il to visit my friend April.

Our plan includes: party that don’t stop, tick-tock on the clock, and pedicures on our toes, toes.

I predict many fun times!

YAY!

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