I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, men are the
reason why we’re crazy! It’s
because of men and their obsession with the need for women to be perfect. Perfect 10, there’s even a
magazine. Everything is air
brushed and touched up. I’m just
as guilty. I’ll sit and judge me,
you, her, and them all the time.
Is it right, nah, but lets face it, we all do it. Some of us forget that our thoughts in
our heads are actually being said out loud for others to hear. I really need to work on that whole
inside voice thing.
So, to fit in the mold, this time last year I went on the
advocare diet and I bought my 1st pair of Spanx. Both invented by some dumb man. Let me explain Spanx to you, in case
you’ve not been watching Oprah or visited any retail store within the last 8
years. Essentially you can buy a
panty hose leotard that sucks in your fat. It slims your belly area so that you don’t have the rolls
and muffin tops. So I make the
obvious choice not to wear it at home first and get a feel for how it works,
NOPE, not this girl, I’m a Rock Star I pulled that beige death trap out of the
package and set out to wear them to work. For 8 hours.
Like any good type of restricting fire retardant clothing, I literally
thought I was going to have to grease myself with Crisco to get them on. I pulled and yanked and pulled and laid
down on the bed and jumped up and down, hoping the fat would jiggle into
place. I finally had them on. I couldn’t breathe. That must be a sign that they’re
working! This is where
the short girl problem comes in. I
pulled them up and they fit all the way up under my bra. So now I may not have a fat roll in
front, I have an attractive roll of balled up rolled up fabric that has
collected under my boobs and all the way around above my bra strap. Oh no big deal, I’ll just explain that
as, “I don’t see anything and have no idea what you’re talking about”. (It’s always best to make “them”
feel stupid) As I began to lose
feeling to my abdomen I went along with my morning.
Now because I'm on the advocare I drink a lot of
water. Enough water to
successfully fill a small Cambodian nation for a year. I have to pee. I was fairly new to this job. Not everyone really knew me or my
Fabulous personality. Its best not
to show your crazy all at once, I was pacing myself. I get stuck in my Spanx. No joke, no big fishing this story, I literally got
stuck. These things got caught
around my thighs and I couldn’t stand up, I couldn’t move, the circulation of
blood had stopped so I knew it was a matter of time before my legs gave
out. I was hanging onto the wall
praying to Jesus himself to please not let me faint in this bathroom and these
fancy people find me passed out with Spanx around my thighs. I was finally able to get enough super
power strength to pull them up. I
walked out in a full-blown sweat. I’m
not sure I spoke to anyone else the rest of the day. I didn’t know how to explain to strangers that I got stuck
in my fat sucking pantyhose cat suit.
That’s how you get to be “that girl”.
After the Spanx incident I naturally decided to try a waist
trainer. If Khloe K. can do it well
then this was the obvious next choice.
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| I just know Im going to look like this! |
This method is a little more complex than the Spanx because we actually
go back to Scarlett O’Hara days of being laced up and cinched in this medieval
device. But hey, you can get it in
leopard print so that makes it so much better. I got mine out and was so excited. I was a waist-trimming beast, I didn’t need to go in
gradual, it has 3 rows of hooks I’ll start at the 2nd row. Ease my way in with the help of my 2 hands and Jesse's two hands plus a pair of pliers and vice grips. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!! That feeling of your spleen being
pushed up into esophagus and your kidney being squeezed out the other end!!! Oh this cant be right??? I immediately hopped online to make
sure that lack of air and internal injuries was normal. Thank God for message boards, yep I’m
good. The 1st few days
of wearing it for 4-6 hours at a time, I sweat off a bunch of inches and man
did my boobs look GREAT. I
had the tiniest little waist. I
couldn’t eat, sleep, move, bend, drink, pee (cause there was no intake of any
kind to expel) but I could walk.
And my shirts that had got just a wee bit too tight looked awesome. Minus that whole imprint of the
cincher itself poking through the material OH and that back fat that spills
over the top and out under arm pits.
Don’t mind that little guy.
So you got to wear a sweater when its 110 outside…what doesn’t kill us,
Right?!?!?!
I did the cincher pretty religiously for a couple of
months. But like any good lazy
girl, I quit. And the inches came
back. Pretty much over night. I’m going to assume that’s because I
drank 8 ounces of water. The cincher is your go to for any good party that
you want to wear a hot dress for and not partake in any eating or
drinking. Just use your chest to
hold the man’s drink. I
would imagine most of the party will center around you after that.
So the moral to this story is this…..sometimes a girl just
has to come to grips and embrace her inner skinny girl from 18 and live with
her 40-year-old new post baby producing body.
I mean after all, we did produce life, a miracle, we are life pods damn
it!!!!!
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