Who's Tired Of Hearing About My Fat? Raise Your Hand.

And then lower it and just take me right out of your Google Reader because, baby, the fat stories are here to stay.

I'm not saying this is a good thing. It's rather unfortunate.

But they are here to stay.

At least until I retire in the spring, join the Y again, get on a healthy diet and, basically, regress to the weight of my early 30's. Hey. One can DREAM.

Anyway. I carefully laid out my clothes to wear to school last week; a stretchy brown turtleneck, brown and gold tweed slacks, brown tights and my cute new brown Clark clogs - which TOTALLY deserve their own post. Because I am in love with the Clark clogs.

What I had forgotten in my quest for, apparently, the perfect BROWN outfit, is that this particular turtleneck, although perfectly DARLING because, really, which of my clothes is not? is actually a little. Well. Fitted. And I normally wear it with a jacket over it. To hide the fact that it hugs the rolls between my bra and the top of my pants.

I forgot this fact.

And it wasn't until I got to school that I realized my DARLING brown stretchy turtleneck was ADHERING to my two extra rolls of flab like some sort of mutant fat-revealing monster. There was no way I was hiding those rolls.

But when I went to the bathroom, I realized I had on CONTROL TOP TIGHTS. So when I pulled them up, I pulled to see just how far they would stretch and they would stretch all the way OVER THE FAT ROLLS. So I pulled them up.

And for a time I had a nice, smooth tummy line with no rolls.

But tights were not designed to cover your entire body and they eventually migrated back down to my waist.

Damn. And that was SUCH a great idea too.