Uuuummmmm. . . .Thanks?

Hi all --

Back from a four day meeting in Austin! 

SO glad to be home.

I really like this particular group in Austin though.  The people there are SO affirming.  They were nice enough to notice that the white suit I was wearing was really baggy.  (Especially my friend Marta.  She is my favorite!  I mean, she is ONE OF my favorites!  Hi Deb!  Hi Kathy!)

And Gabe e-mailed me a workout I did in my hotel room.  It wasn't like having the REAL Gabe there, but it was better than nothing.

I asked my Austin friends their opinion on a comment made to me a couple of weeks ago.  I want to hear your opinion too.

I was at a meeting I attend every week.  Typically, I order lunch at this meeting.  Sometimes I have soup and a sandwich, but usually I have a cheeseburger and fries.  With a coke.  Yum. 

Yep.  You heard me.  I eat cheeseburgers.

I like 'em.

As many reps as Gabe makes me do every session?  I earned that damn cheeseburger. 

So anyway, I am sitting in the meeting, with my cheeseburger, and chatting with some of the other people. 

As we are chatting, a woman casually says "I was going to compliment you on how much weight you've lost, but then I saw what you are eating for lunch."

Blink. Blink.

What does one say to that?

Do I apologize for eating a cheeseburger in public?  Because people who are losing weight are not supposed to be eating cheeseburgers. 

I am not going to apologize for having lunch.

Do I say "Thanks"?

Do I say "Fuck off"?

I really wanted to say "Thanks.  Fuck off."  But I didn't.

I didn't know what to say.

I just looked at her, stupidly blinking, mouth slightly open, when fortunately, the meeting started and my attention was required elsewhere. 

So. .. if I had the moment to live over again. . .or (which is more likely) the next time she judges me for my choice of lunch. . .what do I say?

What would you say?

I need your feedback

Hi!

I have been out of pocket for a few days. 

You just thought "Finally, she gets a life" didn't you? 

Shaddap!

Anyway -- I had family visiting from Chicago.  We had so much fun I didn't even check my Facebook.

And I ALWAYS check my Facebook.

Obviously, if I haven't checked Facebook, I haven't come up with a blog topic. 

This isn't a problem except that when you don't post frequently, your blog scoots way down the blog rolls. 

So here's what I need from you:

When I (occasionally) get a life, would you rather I:

a. just post when my schedule allows.

b. re-post an oldie.

Thanks for letting me know!

If You Were Me

And someone gave you a generous gift certificate to a salon, what would you have done?

Toes -- obviously.  My feet are so in need of a pedicure that I am snagging my sheets.

But what else?

Can't be hair, because I only trust Kasey with the Red. 

Massage? 

I've never had that done.

Brazilian?

Never had that done either.

I hear good things about both.  I hear all the time about how WONDERFUL they are and how you FEEL SO GREAT afterwards and all I can think is: 

Someone besides my husband or OB/GYN will be touching my fat and/or touching me in my girl parts. 

Ummmm. . .No.

Yes I am an enlightened, fun, confident fat girl. 

Yes I have lots (and lots) of wild before-I-met-my-husband stories.

No I don't want anyone touching me.

I have a space bubble.

Unless I married you or gave birth to you, you are not allowed in the bubble.  (And if anyone knows a way to keep the people I gave birth to out of the bubble, I'd love to hear it.)

Anyone?  Anyone?