life, the universe, and donna

Usual Disclaimer: I’m body image positive. I don’t think fat people are ugly or inhuman or less deserving of love, unless they’re assholes. But that applies to skinny assholes, too. For me, I feel better at my preferred weight, and so I aim for it. I am petite, and none of this applies to other people who don’t have my exact body frame, structure & makeup. I am basically a fit dachshund, and if you happen to be a border collie or a great dane or a german shepherd or a bermese mountain dog, you should not be comparing your body type to that of a dachshund. (Soapbox over, I’m just tired of “body image positive” meaning “healthy weight loss hate”.)

This morning, I was 1lb under my “preferred” weight. So, I had a venti cinnamon dolce latte with whip and a chocolate croissant for breakfast. Ok, the latte was more because when I got my tall latte yesterday, I got the fancy receipt with the “go fill out this survey and get a free drink” coupon, and if I’m going to get a free drink, I’m getting an expensive free drink. And the croissant, well, I’d have preferred a plain one, but they only have chocolate.

I’m okay with this. Mmm, chocolate.

Anyway, so I’m going continue my trend of using actual numbers here, because it’s easier than saying things like “preferred weight +5″ or whatever. This morning, I weighed 119lbs. I checked for several reasons:

- One, I don’t actually notice when I gain or lose weight until I’ve changed about 15lbs and my pants don’t fit, so I check every now and then. Especially since a lot of my old pants are too big anyway. Sidenote: I didn’t wear a belt today and I feel like a rapper. I think my underwear is showing. Damn. It might be time for new pants.

- Two, I wanted to see how much the puppy weighs, and trying to get a wriggly little fuzzy pajamaed monster who’s trying to eat your hair to stand on a scale is more amusing than functional, it’s much easier to simply hold him while I stand on the scale, and then do some math. For the record, Jasper weighs 19lbs. Up from 18 last Friday! I thought he looked bigger… or maybe it’s just his feet. Giant feet.

So, together, Jasper & I weigh 138. Which is slightly boggling, because when I moved in with Nick, I weighed 145lbs. Granted, 10 of that was from living with my mother for six months, with all the copious homemade dinners and my complete lack of self control, and it fell off pretty fast when I got back to my normal eating habits. Still, it really wasn’t that long ago that I weighed 138lbs WITHOUT holding the puppy, and it’s slightly boggling. I have lost more than a 13 week old large breed dog in weight in the last year and a half.

I write about this, because it’s very bizarre to me. He’s a heavy little fucker — trust me, I carried him around Home Depot for an hour because he hadn’t peed and I didn’t want him peeing in the store. (Despite several potty trips outside, the little bugger didn’t pee until we got home, after two more stops. Oh well, at least it was outside.) 19 lbs of wriggly puppy is surprisingly tiring.

And yet, apparently I carried that around on my body without noticing for years — I averaged 135 or so (I didn’t check often, but any time I did, it was around 135) for … 6 years or so? Where was I putting that, anyway?

I still rarely notice the difference in me. Well, not quite, I notice it in my face. And in the way my clothes fit. And I really notice the difference in pictures. I definitely suit my preferred weight much better than my “at my heaviest”. And I think it looks funny when I wear old cothes that used to be form fitting, because I look like I’m wearing mummy’s clothes. So you’d think I’d realize that 19lbs (or 26, if you’re going with my top known weight) is actually a fair amount without having to heft it around a hardware store for an hour.

But, I don’t always, because I’m a little oblivious and distracted by shiny things. And puppies. Very distracted by puppies.