While I feel like it is my destiny to look like this,
I feel like I was kinda heading towards this destiny.
And when you look like this,
you ain’t gettin’ to this.
I was covered under Dar-Dar’s insurance (WHAT UP, OBAMA!) and I had some free time one Wednesday, so I figured, why not? *Note: because I recently turned 26, I have no more insurance as of March 31st, 2013 (what up, Obama?). I better pray to God I don’t pop a fucking staple in the near future.
Anyway, there are lots of reasons why I chose to get surgery. I got surgery so that I could become thin enough to:
*buy 5-6 boxes of ice pops at a time without getting looks like, “figures she'd buy all that sugary mess”. BITCHES, YOU DON’T KNOW MY LIFE. MAYBE I’M HAVING A FUCKING BACKYARD BARBECUE! In late October. The day before Hurricane Sandy. Hey, we all prepare in different ways...
*receive a piggy back ride where the “piggy” can not only support my weight, but take at least one full step forward with ease,
*at least PRETEND like its difficult for me to give one grown man or 2-3 women and children a piggy back ride (2-3 women and children...at one time),
*be able to slip my hands out of handcuffs if I'm ever kidnapped. I watch a shit ton of Dateline.
*hop a turnstile with ease should that be the route I decide to take in life,
*go to Asia and blend in. Well, I don’t know if I will ever blend in, but I’d like to go chill in Japan without people thinking that Godzilla has returned with a vengeance. Calm down, Asia. I’m not here to stomp your cities and eat your babies.
* successfully flirt my way out of a ticket. I’m not even going to get into the time I received 5 tickets in one swoop last year.
* play more than 3 rounds of hide and seek with kids before I run out of enough suitable places to hide. I’m only semi-ashamed to say that I once put a lamp shade on my head and stood in the corner of the room. A valiant effort, I’d say.
* go on Say Yes to the Dress, not Say Yes to the Dress: Big Bliss. OH MY GOSH! THERE’S NO WAY WE CAN PUT THESE HUGE MONSTERS ON TV WITH THE “REGULAR” BRIDES! THEY MIGHT GET HUNGRY IN THE FITTING ROOM AND EAT ONE OF THEM! Get outta here, Big Bliss.
* trick or treat without getting any assholish looks. Oh, I’m 5’11? And I’m still going to be that tall after losing weight? Fuck, never mind trick or treating.
*drive with one leg up on the seat. Dangerous? Sure. Adorable? Hell yes.
*squeeze into a front-load clothes dryer and have my friends take a funny picture. Girls do that “to see if they can fit” and “for a good laugh”. Bitches, stop fucking lying. THE ONLY REASON YOU CLIMBED INTO THAT APPLIANCE IS TO SHOW EVERYONE HOW SMALL YOU ARE. You know that you can fit into that fucking dryer. It’s like a bar trick; you’ve obviously done it before and you know damn well you can fold your body into such positions. We know what you’re doing, and so do you.
Before my operation, I had to go visit my surgeon about 100 times. This was dreadful, mainly because of the waiting room. First, have any of you ever been to a fatty doctor’s office? There are specialty fat chairs, I fuck with you not. These were like Pawnee waiting rooms. The armrests on these bitches were about 4 feet apart. They were loveseats meant for one human. Holy shit, thats the saddest song title ever. Loveseat, Party of One. You know that picture where Michael Jordan is palming that basketball while showing off his wingspan? That was me holding onto the armrests. *Note: add “get thinner than Michael Jordan” to the list above. Second, the people in this office. Oh, the people in this office. The doctors office waiting room was the same level of freak show as the the waiting room in Beetlejuice.
Have you ever walked into a room and just KNOWN that you were the coolest person there? Be honest. It’s fucking awesome, I’m not going to lie. Those patients were the sketchiest bunch of weirdos I’ve ever seen. And ya know what? I’m allowed to say that until I can fit into the dryer. I don’t like to judge (HA) and I like to think I’m a nice person (HA) (even though I did win the superlative for “friendliest” in high school),
*shout out to Mikey VB*
Like I said before, its been 10 months and I’d like to tell you the cravings have completely stopped, but I’d also like to tell you that I didn’t walk out in public today in sweat pants, slippers, and a bathing suit because I have no clean bras, but I can’t do that, either. I’ll be sure to keep you updated, but I have to run now. There’s a single egg white and a glass of water with my name on it. Fuck.