Weight a minute ( or “This Post Makes Me Sound Vapid”)

"Pass the gravy please. I'm famished after beating those two guys at tennis" (Note: I really did beat two guys at tennis yesterday. Bwaha!)

So, I’ve got a hot date tomorrow.

This means that I’ve got approximately zero point no seconds to suddenly become very eloquent, hot and sexy.

I’m starting to think that I should have been investing in making myself super-awesome months before this, in preparation.  Joined the Peace Corps or something. (It used to be my ambition to join the Diplomatic Corps… and my little sister is going to join the Peace Corps)  And the date is actually kind of far away, so I’m going to have to sit alone with him in the car for a while…and I pray to the powers that be that I don’t talk too much or not enough or say something stupid or… laugh at something that isn’t a joke.

(“Ya, I don’t like Vegas.”


“Well, my father was killed in Vegas when a monkey escaped from the zoo, stole a Harley and ran him over just as he was leaving Albertson’s  one evening.  Nobody saw that coming.”


“What on EARTH is so funny about that?  It was horrible”


WHY is it that when I’m with someone I’m not interested in, my conversation flows so well, and I say all the right things…but the second a really cool person ( male or female, any age group)  comes within 30 feet of my person, I forget what I was saying mid-sentence and have to restrain myself from running, knocking old people out of the way and tripping over toddlers, straight for the exit.

And yes, while thinking about this date the thought crossed my mind that crosses the minds of all young women my age.

No.  Not ” I wonder if the relative value of the Pound to the Euro, with regards to the national debt, further compounded by the recent increase in tariffs inundated by South East  Asia and China, will result in lowered petrol prices from the Venezuelan market?”

But close.

I’m wondering if he’ll think I’m fat.  ( The other one was a really close second, though.)

Now, if I am to go by the BMI index I’m at “Normal Weight”. (I’m  137 at 5’6, just so you know…but if someone buys me ice cream one more time…no promises.)

So, if I’m going with the BMI…I’m good.

I mean, I live an active lifestyle.  I like my Yoga hanging upside down from a harness.  I like to hike and swim and walk and play tennis.

But, on the other hand, if I want to get back to pageant weight, which doesn’t use the BMI…but the COV (Cover of Vogue) index… then I am *takes out calculator, and works steadily, crease of concentration on forehead*… approximately two tapeworms and a bad case of stomach flu away from my goal weight. See? * shows calculator which has a picture of two tapeworms and a bucket on the display*

So,I think I’m good.

* Because I’m so busy, I give myself 20 minutes a day to write something on this blog  from a sampling of what I wrote in my notebook.  If I finish the weekly Parent Newsletter and take a sanity walk in a timely manner, I might get to start my third Fema-missed post, which will have much more substance.



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4 responses to “Weight a minute ( or “This Post Makes Me Sound Vapid”)

  1. Yeah, you are definitely not fat, nor anything near unto it.

    And conversation-wise, I’m personally a big fan of crazy hypotheticals in which I take the opposite side of whatever the other person says. You could use the question of whether it’s appropriate to laugh if a friend says their dad was killed by a Harley-riding escapee Vegas monkey.

  2. jddaughter

    By the way…the answer is no. Petrol prices have thus far remained unaffected. I actually do think about that question sometimes.

    And this is interesting….because, either Austin has figured out who I am ( NOT a hard thing….unless you’re a creepy stranger or old vengeful enemy, in which case I hope it is very difficult.) or he has been very well trained in the art of ” You’re-not-fat-kwan-do”…and does it reflexively.

  3. Sorry if I wasn’t supposed to figure it out.

    Hope the date went well though!

  4. jddaughter

    I had to cancel it due to perfectly foreseeable work related circumstances. Employment is not always conducive to a fabulous love life…unless you’re like a rapper…or possibly a politician.

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