And not with a "ph" either. Recently I turned 30 years old, and have given up the little fat girl ugly duckling dream of waking up one morning looking like Pamela Anderson or even a reasonably attractive human being. The reality check is that ugly kids usually grow up to be ugly adults and I'm no exception (please note I am well aware that every supermodel claims they were hideous growing up but this is also because they are LYING).
Who cares if you're smart...or even if you can SEE straight when you have THESE?
These days even thinking about food causes the early arrival of more fat cells to help pad the spare tire. Every trip to Target (right on I typed Target b/c I'm fucking POOR) I'm edging closer and closer to the Liz Lange maternity section--I can't bring myself to go too close to Merona Woman--and have contemplated buying some things that will grow with me. I am the person asked to hold down ladders and lift stuff even if guys are around, which is flattering NOT AT ALL.
So part two of this issue is that with so many people getting married and my own sad ass not having a date in TWO YEARS (yes this IS worse than a fucking Cathy cartoon) I will either have to get better looking or seek chubby-chasing weirdos. I'm pursuing the latter first and am crossing my fingers Richmond is hiding a bastion of plumpy-lovers! And I'm not looking for love, either...HINT HINT.
Something along these lines will do:
