the unbearable lightness of being

the truth is that i still fit into the same clothes i did in college. this should be a good thing, right? the strange thing is, though i haven't changed size at all i feel like my body has gone all sorts of crazy in the last three years. i've always had slightly thick ankles and struggled with weight around my thighs. not much, mind you. i'm about seven pounds away from being completely and utterly happy. but several things have happened that really bug me. 1) cellulite. where does this come from? how can a girl who works out five days a week struggle so much with it? why don't the creams do what they say? why is the best cream about sixty dollars? 2) belly fat. i remember in oregon one of my fellow cabin mates had a belly that only she noticed. she was/is this really skinny, tall blonde and she was always poking at her "pouch." i remember scrutinizing my own belly and concluding that i didn't have that problem. well... so much for pride. three years ago i got in on the whole hip-hugger jeans, and it was all over from there. i really truly believe that those hip-hugging jeans that make your ass look great turn your stomach into a paunch. every time you sit in them, the waistline presses into your lower abdomen and the skin and underlying muscle gets pushed up, permanently making a pouch. jeez. what can you do? wear mom jeans? never sit down again? 3) like i said, i work out about five days a week in a gym. lately i've been running two miles outside about once a week and walking a lot on the weekends. but i Never Lose a Pound. well, okay, maybe a pound. but my body just doesn't change. it's the most frustrating thing in the world. i eat whole grains and vegetables and proteins. i really try to do all the right things: eat low-fat dairy, avoid juice and soda, avoid simple carbohydrates... but it never changes how i look. i now have a lot of muscle, but i haven't lost an inch.

there was one time in the last few years that i lost weight. the week of my wedding i probably lost up to ten pounds with all of the running around and the loss of appetite due to adrenaline.

i guess the solution is to get a divorce and then get married again.

and again.

and again.

i call it my yo-yo diet.