my new badonk.

so, first is first.  i am not preggers. 

guess i am just eating a lot these days. 

also, in preparation to maybe, possibly, one day soon grow a (hopefully) healthy kid in this wartorn body of mine, i've stopped drinking coffee and given up alcohol.  and with nothing huge to be stressing about these days (read: no wedding planning, yay!) and the feeling of calm replacing all those sleepless nights and anxiety ridden stomach knots, i have rediscovered the taste of food. 

and apparently, so has my ass. 

hate it love it hate it love it.  i just can't decide.

i'm a huge fan of skinny ass twigs.  i know, i've been brainwashed! by the evil media!  horrid women's fashion magazines!  bony ass movie stars!  whatever.  it is what it is, and for about a year, i was - for the first time since i was 13 years old - HAPPY with my body.  didn't think much about it at all.  in some ways, i welcomed the sleepless nights, the stress so palpable i had no appetite until about 6pm, so all i'd have is 2 cups of coffee in the morning and just go.  and go.  and go on that fuel for the next 8-10 hours.  reaaaaal healthy, i know. 

but here's the thing.  i had no pimples during this time.  granted, i also had much drier skin and more obvious smile lines.  but NO PIMPLES.  now, i'm broken out like a teenager so i do think there's something to diet being directly related to acne.  or maybe with the extra weight comes a stronger rush of hormones?  possibly.

where was i.  oh, my ass.  yeah, it's aight.  my husband likes it, so i guess i'll try to too.

Naming a blog.

The day I got married, exactly three months and one day ago, I tipped the scales at precisely 95.3 lbs.  I wasn't actively trying to lose - not consciously, anyway.  But everyone says, "All the stress of wedding planning just obliterates your appetite."  I think it was more the sleep deprivation that did me in.

Whatever.  This is so not the point.  But I have to admit, the weight-obsessed adolescent devil bitch that sits on my pituitary gland, where I imagine her eating a brownie and being pissed off at herself, rocking out to Fiona Apple, is (not so) secretly happy that she, er....I...can later say, "The day I got married, I tipped the scales at precisely 95.3 lbs." 

So, where was I.  Oh, right.  Today, three months later, and I've gained 10 fucking pounds.  That's right.  They deserve the "F" word.  So how did I get from there to here?


I don't know.  I mean, sure, I care a lot less.  And I'm definitely not stressed anymore, but seriously, almost all 10 lbs. happened in the last two weeks. WTF.


Last week I was annoyed seeing triple digits: 100.  But now those zeros are taunting me!  I can see them running around in circles daring me to catch them.  Alas, I can not.  Old and slow, I am.

Here's what else:

• My boobs have been hurting like a motherfucker for the past week
• I can see my ass in the mirror when I'm facing it full frontal
• My eyelids are tired (but that could be because I'm wearing false eyelashes today)
• I have a headache which I rarely ever get
• I pee 12 times an hour
• This morning I woke up with cramps and a bit of spotting...but it's 8 days before my next period

Oh right, so, I haven't been on the pill in more than two years, and my lady timing usually eludes me, but about a month ago I downloaded a monthly cycle chart ap on my iphone and it's telling me I have "8 days to go!"  


Last night while cuddling with my husband and complaining about my extra poundage he gave me a HYOOOOGE bear hug, closed his eyes and with an ear-to-ear grin reminiscent of a cartoon puppy that's just found a bone, exclaimed, 

"But it's just like hugging poundcake!"


I had barely a chance to respond with widened eyes and a look of horror when he quickly followed up with:


"And I LOOOOOOVE poundcake!"


So.


Am I fat or pregnant?