D Day

I haven't decided if my title should mean Diet Day, Drinking Day or Don't Fit Into Any Clothes Day. All seem to be fitting (or maybe not). Kyle and I are headed back to the States tomorrow for a week. The forecast is 80 and sunny in Atlanta for the next five days. As excited as I am for good weather, the change from 50 to 80 degrees also means that I will have to stop wearing my jeans, sweaters and coats. Which means that I have to pull out all my summer clothes.

Last summer I just left some summer clothes in our storage because I knew they wouldn't even fit. They barely fit the summer before and the chance that they would fit last summer was not helped by the Belgian beer, cheese and chocolates. However, this summer I vowed would be different. Kyle and I joined a gym in January. I really was pretty good about going. I had even taken a few classes and could feel my endurance building. Pants were slightly looser and I was feeling healthier. I gave up alcohol and Cokes for Lent. And then my parents came. I didn't work out for a week and we ate out most meals. So today, as I am trying to find summer clothes to wear in 80 degree weather, I am striking out, or rather bulging out. The thing I don't understand is that for as much as the Belgian food is great, I think my parents can attest to how much we walk around here. You would think one might at least help off set the other.

I have a theory that whatever size you are as an adolescent is what you always see yourself as when you are an adult. Growing up I was tiny. My mom even gave me Ensure to try to put weight on me. I didn't hit 100 lbs. until the end of my sophomore year of high school. I still remember the day when I went from a size 0 to a size 2. Even in college I could eat as much as I wanted and not gain anything. So as a 26 year old, I keep feeling like I should be the "tiny one" and trust me, I am not. Time has caught up with me and I am not happy.

Maybe I can just convince people that muu-muus are the local European attire...