Posts tagged overweight

Fatty Fatty Bo Batty
Jan 12th
I can’t see my vagina. Â I haven’t been able to see it in the past couple of years. Â When I try to bend over, it becomes quite difficult to breath because all of my fat condenses in the middle and crushes my lungs. Â I can see as far as the top of my pubic hair, and that’s about it, which makes shaving quite difficult. Â Basically, I shave myself blind since, I am unable to see what I’m doing. Â Sometimes, I rock the mullet. Â You know, short in the front, long in the back, or my more favorite phrase concerning mullets, “Business in the front, Party in the back.” Â As a matter of fact, I think that’s how I will refer to my vagina and anus from now on, or Pinky and The Brain for short. Â But most of the time I rock the bald patchy chemo patient look.
Here’s the thing about grooming yourself in your most southern regions. Â It’s a real pain in the ass. Â The first day feels fantastic. Â It’s nice and smooth, and you think,”This is how it should always feel”, but the next day those silly, pink razor bumps which looks like your vagina caught the Pox, looks and feels unattractive. Â Then it starts to itch like your vagina really did catch the Pox. Â Oh, and that large sensitive bump that suddenly pops up in what you think is something you contracted from wearing the same underwear two days in a row, is just an in-grown hair. Â But, no worries. Â It will eventually go away. Â After about a week, it’s time to rinse and repeat, and there my friends is the never ending story.
I’m at a point in my life that I’m over the proper grooming phase to my lady parts. Â It’s just stuff you see in pornagraphic movies or on Barbie. Â I am neither of such characters, and I prefer to sport the look of hunting season, including the plaid flannels. Â My attitude towards the hygiene of my Kamalaya is taking a toll on my black husband. Â He’s sick of it…… and I don’t care.
I have forgotten so much of what my chubby muffin looks like that I finally took a picture of it ,and sent it to my girlfriend one evening. Â Then took a picture of her reaction when she received the image. Â This was her reaction:
I must say, I was taken aback but such a candid reflection.  To my surprise, she was giddy and receptive.  I realized then, I shouldn’t be ashamed of who I am.  So what of it, if my vag looks like an Iranian nation?!  So what of it, if it looks like a bag of play dough covered in cat fur?  So what of it, if my  vagina looks like it belongs in a taxidermist’s museum?  So what of it?  So what?!!!
I am fat with a fat, hairy vagina, and I don’t care what people think, especially my black husband!!
With that I will leave you all….at least for tonight, the words of Angeles Arrien:
“My grandmother told me, “Never hide your green hair —They can see it anyway.”Closet Clothes Addict.
Aug 22nd
As of today, at 10:31pm August 22, 2011, I, Dani Rice, will not buy brand new clothes for a year……Unless, I lose 25pounds. Â I feel that it is only fair to myself and gives me an incentive to stay on the right track. Â Okay, for every 20….no, 15 pounds I lose, I can buy new clothes. Â There. Â That’s it. Â That’s my statement for the evening. Â This, my friends, is my new, just over the middle of the year resolution. Â Until August 21st of 2012 we will see how much I live up to it.
I, like Amy, am trying to pave my way to a new, healthier, fitter me. Â I feel pretty good about it, too, however, last week I pulled my calf muscle twice and was told by the doctor to give my sprained muscle some rest. Â The truth is I want some damn fried chicken!!! Â Crispy, greasy, spicy, saucy chicken legs with some blue cheese dressing, and a mississippi mud pie. Â I want some southern cooking Paula Dean style with butter and lard drenched cinnamin rolls for breakfast and desert.
I did have a bag…an entire bag of Lindt Hazelnut Milk Chocolate Balls all to myself Saturday and it was amazing. Â I truly believe that God had a couple bunnies….Easter bunnies, that shat out amazing round turds that were beautifully wrapped and packaged in darling, easy-to-tote bags just so I can carry them around and eat every one of those amazing bunny droplets just for my heart’s content. Â This is real proof that not only does God exist, but also really loves me. Â My personal trainer would say otherwise, and it was clear to him today to see me so bloated. Â I wish I had lied about the delicious bunny droppings but I owned up to it and my arms paid for it in result.
Needless to say, I enjoy buying brand new clothes, and I have a very small handful of shop that I really like to go to when my desires need to be met. Â I have come to the realization I have spent way too much money on clothes this year alone and I have enough that really could last me a year without having to spend more money. Â So, in what I am hoping to knock out in one stone is to not buy clothes until I hit a 15 pound goal. Â After 15 pounds is lost, I can buy myself one entire outfit..accessories included, until I hit my goal weight, in which I would definitely need to be rewarded with 3 brand new outfits. Â This gives me at least 6 brand new outfits. Â I find this to be worthy realistic goals I can set for myself that I can achieve.
I just wish my calf could heal sooner. Â 😉
No Worries…I still got it.
Jul 31st
Hello my name is Dani and this is my first post. Â I’m not sure how frequent I will be contributing to this post, but I am excited that I am doing so. Wow! Â I feel like I just attended my first Gamblers Anonymous meeting. Â It’s not too bad minus the free coffee and donuts but I do have fruit bars in my freezer so I suppose I am entitled to have one at any moment if my will chooses to.
This is my confession.  I’ve always wanted to be a stripper.  Not just some skanky, dirty, grease ball stripper with a baby and coke and/or meth problems, but a classy gal with a naughty teacher’s costume that moves like a ballerina and a body like Demi Moore from G.I. Jane on a pole with 6 inch pumps…that kinda stripper.  I’ve wanted to live this dream since I was in high school.  As a matter of fact, I once even applied  for a bartending job to one of the local titty bars in town when I was 19…no one called.
I know this sounds so odd and unconventional but it’s the truth. Â I’ve always had the tits for it and I always thought I had the moves but never the body. Â It was OK. Â I had to be realistic and I don’t think telling my relatives what I do for a living would set too easily with them. Â I know they would kindly smile but quietly pray that I would have enough self-confidence to make it like a big girl in the real world. Â Which is what I do. Â But God Damn it! Â I want to slip and slide my 210 lb ass up and down that pole like a Flo Rida song with my hair whipping around and being showered with papers of green!
My other is being a hip hop battle dancer. Â Clearly, I don’t need to explain why since we all know Hip-Hop dancers are fucking cool and I had all the credentials to be one which is solely me being half Asian, but those dreams were shattered due to 2 patella injuries to the same knee. Â When I went to the doctor and asked about my career as a Hip-Hop dancer, he told me it was over. Â And like the little Mini Ninja that I am, I cried in my heart.
Here’s the thing, I consider myself a pretty confident YOUNG woman and even though I have lived my whole life being from overweight to morbidly obese. Â That’s not to say there was never any insecurities. Â Everyone has them. Â I know this, but I still remain to keep my head held fairly high if not just above water. Â I think deep down I don’t truly view myself as being obese. Â Any fantasy I have of myself, it’s always a vision of me as a beautiful, exotic, physically trim vixen with a very nicely manicured ladyscape. Â Always.
To add to my boldness, I will occasionally go sing a karoke song in a bar filled with equally horrible vocalists. Â My boldness also enjoys letting the patrons at the club know who runs the dance floor. This is why I’m rambling on about my friend, Boldness and her mentally challenged fraternal twin sister, Insecurity. Â A few nights ago, my best friend was celebrating her first period so I needed a new outfit. Â Well, it just so happen that Insecurity was with me shopping that day and I ended up getting an outfit that was most suitable for a drag queen. Â I tried returning the outfits the next day but realized that one of the stores didn’t accept returns and refunds…..yeah, stupid. Â Needless-to-say, I, at the age of 31, was dressed like Miss Divine.
The evening arrives and I am with my crew, running this town which consisted us stopping into two bars and me hanging my bare ass out of a Pepto Bismal stretch limo to half of the city including a bum publicly urinating. Â The second bar we presented ourselves to had a very small stage and when we arrived there wasn’t many people present while the music was blaring to obnoxious house ‘n’ base music. Â The drinks proceeded to have a steady traffic from bar to table to hand to mouth, and I had just the right amount of glistening sweat on my body. Â Turns out it’s college night and as more people entered the dance floor, the shorter and tighter the dresses got on the Trannies that were walking in. Â At one point I looked up and there were 5 girls on this railing enclosed stage and you could practically see more Side Ways Tacos than a Taco Bell. Â (You like that analogy?) Â Well I wasn’t going to share my space with them. Â Hell No! Â I much prefer a good ten feet of dancing room just for myself, which is when I noticed a half hour later, no one was up there, and not much longer after I noticed the perfect song came on. Â Before you knew it, my fabulous self just so happened to be up on stage all by myself looking all extra glittery and shit. Â I was twerkin’ my flat wide booty, whipping my hair around like a Willow Smith song, and I hear hooting and hollering from everyone in the club…ok, half of everyone…a quarter of everyone. Â I felt like a Gladiator whose extraordinary triumphs not only honored his Luneesta, but all of Rome, but without all the blood and it being Grand Rapids. Deep down, my little Mini Ninja heart was smiling. Â As a matter of fact, before I left, a young lady…a very young lady, came up to me and said I was a “Damn Good dancer”. Â It warmed my heart and I hugged her for all of her praises she was giving me. Â I walked out of that bar that evening with an extra skip in my step.
But I have to say, the past few days, with my head held high, I have come to this realization. Â My friend, Boldness, has always been a much better friend to me. Â She was with me in Boston when I was singing Joan Jett’s “Do you want to touch me” to my platonic girlfriend, not realizing how lesbian it sounded, but the crowd loved it!! Â They roared. Â They cheered. Â They wanted more of me…at least until song ended. Â I took over Boston that evening.
Boldness has helped me conquer so many places and has let me accomplish so many things. Â Being at the age of 31 and at a weight that I still don’t desire, those too numbers have never been significant at all. Â Because, even though I accepted Insecurity, I found that Boldness has been much more cooler to be around.
Holler!!!!