A Brief Intro

So hello. I never knew how to begin my journal entries during my half-assed attempts to keep one as a young girl... I for sure do not know how to begin this blog. I was thinking of a few options:

1. A "Purposeful" intro in which I tell you what I am trying to create with this space. This would be wonderful if I knew what my purpose was.

2. A "Humorous" intro in which I delight and entertain you with the kick-ass humor and phenomenal personality that I have had to develop due to being a fat girl. Okay, a possibility. I always fall back on the self-deprecation in any situation.

3. A "Dramatic" opening that is compelling and makes you swear to yourself that you will never miss a post of this riveting and fascinating blog. Um, yea, no.

4. The truth. Here goes...

I am a fat girl. I am one of those girls that you see applying the smack-down to a bitchin concoction from Coldstone's Creamery and you think to yourself, "Well no wonder!" I am one of those girls that tries to act like I'm not winded as I walk up the stairs with you during a conversation. When I pause before speaking, it's not because I am trying to think of the best response. It's because I am trying to catch my breath. I am one of those girls who will go with a slender friend into a store like "Forever 21" and make it a point to be very busy helping you find the right dress, going to find your size while you stay in the dressing room, looking wistfully at the fashions that would literally not fit over my calf, choosing a scarf or glitter lip gloss from the front by the cash registers just so I can buy something too, and then going with you to Boardwalk Fries. I am one of those girls that knows exactly how to pose my body in such a way that takes off at least 25 pounds in a picture. I am an expert at hiding behind my child or my thin friends in photos. I censor every picture that is ever taken of me and then freak out when I find pictures that are not pre-approved by me or *gasp!* candid shots of me from behind.

I am funny, outgoing, smart, well-dressed (as much as possible) and I have that fat girl necessity: "Such a pretty face!" I am the most confident un-confident person that I know. I am a walking contradiction. I think I have deluded myself into thinking I can cope, but honestly I am moving into a psycho-realm lately that is proving otherwise. It is taking me longer and longer to get dressed everyday. I now scream at anyone in the room to get the fuck out as I am getting dressed because I can't bear for anybody to see the psychotic process. I will try on fifty different things in one setting and try to find that one outfit that possibly in some weird way kind-of sort-of doesn't totally show ALL of the cellulite in my ass. Today, that is. Tomorrow some inexplicable change will occur whereby an outfit that fit yesterday suddenly makes me look like a rhino, when yesterday I merely looked like a cow.

I think I could continue forever, but I am hot and too much truth at once tires me out. Here's my point: I am really trying to do something about my weight, my health, my life. If I chronicle it here, maybe it will stick. Maybe I will make it this time. Maybe at some point I can change the title of my blog to "Confessions of a Girl." We all need a goal, right?