I’ve been hit by a car twice and have yet to be knocked off my feet. Needless to say, I’m a sturdy gal. I haven’t always been this sturdy (aka: chubbs). In fact, when I was in college, I fluctuated between a size 4 and 6 – depending on how many keg stands I did that month.
When I see pics of mini-me from what was surely the most irresponsible/awesome time of my life, I’m puzzled as to why I didn’t run around naked more often. Seriously, I totally could have gotten away with it and not one person would have been offended. If I were to pull that shit today, peeps would be calling 911 left and right.
“Um, hi. Police? There’s an albino who seems to have misplaced her Riders by Lee Slimfit jeans AND her Spanx and she’s running around naked. Well, not running, really. More like…walking swiftly.”
Sad thing is, even when I was ultra thin, I still thought I was a totally fatty. That’s why I ran at least three miles a day, ate fruit for breakfast, and didn’t attack the bread basket like Jesus at The Last Supper. But alas, here I am, 27, and nowhere near a size four – unless I’m standing in line at Gelson’s buying Ben & Jerry’s and a skinny bitch is ahead of me purchasing cayenne pepper and lemons.
I would like to tell you that my future holds a hardcore diet/workout routine, but that’s unlikely. However, when I sell my first book or screenplay, I will invest in some serious lipo and go streaking. People will assume I’ve had my boobs done as well, but they’d be fools. My tits are (and always will be) fabulous.