I’m gonna cut to the shallow chase. My twenty year high school reunion is in one month. I need to lose 60 pounds so that when I cross the threshhold of this moderately priced restaurant where we’re congregating people who haven’t seen me since our 15th reunion (when I was due any second with Amelia) won’t look at me and think, “Damn. Gurl got fat.”
Jack doesn’t seem to think it’s possible to lose that much in one month without amputation. “You’ll probably be down another 5, 6 pounds by then,” he said with a shrug. Dude. That is not acceptable. My goal was to be to 175. 175 is still heavy, and I still look heavy, but I can carry it, you know? Especially with Spanx and the right outfit (I was thinking a pregnancy pad.). I can make it work. Truth be told, I wouldn’t even be going if it weren’t for Glenda.
Glenda has lost over 150 pounds. She looks amazing. Fabu! Tall and gorgeous! She’s excited about this reunion and I’m excited for her. She is going to steal the show, and it’s about freaking time because for all those times people have discounted her, said negative things about her, failed to look her in the eyes, she deserves to be able to stand up and shout, “HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW, BITCHES?!” And, uh, that would be a metaphorical shout because Glenda is way too educated and classy to 1) use any sort of street vernacular and 2) shout anything in public besides “Montgomery Cliff!! Get back here right now!” and “Adam!!! Adam Ant!!! I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE YOU!!!”