I now have this thing called a waist. I know; I had to look it up, too. Apparently, this phenomena occurs when deposits of fat suddenly disappear like Christians before Armageddon, leaving you with two curved dents between your lower ribs and hip bones. Having only observed this waist thingie from afar, I’ve always likened it to a mythical creature captured only on blurry video. A Yeti. The Lochness Monster. J.D. Salinger.
And thanks to the miracle that are high-waisted, skinny jeans – the moment I tried on my first pair, I believed in Jesus all over again – my muffin top, if not completely gone, is tucked snugly into my waistband.
A few friends have noticed my new, slimmer figure, but many have been distracted by my hair, which is growing at an alarming rate for someone who isn’t imprisoned in a tower. Combine that with my new waist and I now have two whole things in common with Gisele Bundchen.
Yesterday, I was donning one of my standard big-boned girl tents dresses to wear to my husband’s office cocktail party…and it was too big. Everywhere. I knew I’d lost some weight. My tees hung away from my body, instead of clinging to my muffin top like warm cinnamon glaze. Each week, to avoid looking like a lank-haired, poser, holding up my jeans with one hand as I lope down the sidewalk, I’ve had to bore a new hole into my belt.
The third new hole and dreaded party began what I call The Dress Guess. Which dresses fit me now? Which make me look like a sausage with a belly button dent? Which graze my waist and hips and, did I say waist? I slipped on one after the other and, at no point, did I feel like a sausage. It was like Christmas in July…mostly because it is, in fact, July.
For the past two years, my crammed dress closet has been virtually ignored, with the exception of a few frocks towards the front, all of which are stretchy, Empire-waisted numbers that have each garnered me myriad versions of the question: So when are you due? When I stepped out in a coral and white, fitted, sleeveless dress last night, I felt fierce. Sasha Fierce fierce. All I needed was a wind machine and some blonde hair extensions, and I was ready to march on stage and rip Jay Z a new asshole.
At one point during the evening, one of my husband’s co-workers asked me what I was doing to lose weight. “Nothing,” I answered truthfully. Hubby and I did move ourselves – and our 17,000 books – into a new place a month ago, so I did engage in quite a bit of exercise for a few weeks, but the weight continues to creep off, pound by pound, day by day. In retrospect, I should have answered, “Tumor,” or maybe, “Tapeworms.” Hubby insisted I suffered from an imbalance of the humors.
“Have you been watching what you eat?” the co-worker asked. Yes, I’ve been watching what I eat. In fact, I stare at my food quite intently as it leaves the plate, balanced on a fork, heading for my mouth. For example, this week I’ve seen beef and potatoes, macaroni and cheese, nachos, freezer pizzas, brownies and candied bacon. Last night, as I was pouring myself a glass of milk before bed, I noticed fresh brownies (I baked them for Hubby. Really.), stacked in a plastic storage container in the fridge. I told myself, “I’m going to pass on that brownie,” as I closed the refrigerator door. About fifteen minutes later, I decided to make good on that promise – and I passed on that brownie. I passed it on to my stomach and it’s currently lodged somewhere in my intestinal tract.
The other night, my husband asked, “What’s that dark stuff on your face?” I figured it must have been that crappy mascara I’ve been using or maybe stray brownie crumbs.
“Where?” I asked. “Under my eyes or around my mouth?”
“Neither,” Hubby replied. “Under your cheeks.”
I rubbed both cheeks vigorously with the heels of my palms. “Is it gone?”
“Nope, it’s still there.” Hubby’s forehead crinkled.
I dashed to the bathroom, curious about what could possibly cause my husband to look serious, and ogled my reflection in the mirror. After a moment, I figured out what merited Hubby’s worry. Returning to the living room, I flopped down on the sofa.
“The dark stuff is still there,” Hubby said.
“I know,” I answered. “They’re called shadows. I have cheekbones now.”
Yes, I have THREE things in common with Gisele. And one thing in common with actor, Benedict Cumberbatch, now that I think of it. No, wait. We’re all tall. FOUR things in common with the Brazilian supermodel and TWO with the best Sherlock since ever.
Granted, Gisele’s waist is tinier, her hair is lusher and longer, and her cheekbones could be used to saw all the lumber necessary to build a log cabin McMansion, but I can already see myself on the cover of Sports Illustrated. In the pages of a Victoria’s Secret catalog. Married to a football player. Smug about an effortless beauty I did nothing to earn. Smugger about all things motherhood even though I’ve only been one for five hot minutes.
Whaaaat? Wait a sec. I hate football. I dig for my lingerie in the 70% off sale bin at Macy’s; if any of it matches, it’s pure coincidence. Certainly, I don’t stand around posing in it. I’m no breeder and I don’t aspire to rank just below Gwyneth Paltrow on the Most-Out-of-Touch-Celebrity-Ever Meter. I’d rather have four things in common with John Green or Elizabeth Warren or Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg or Harper Lee. C’mon, Tom Brady has got to be the most boring slice of white bread on earth. He makes beige look daring.
Still…I have a waist, cheekbones and two things in common with Benedict Cumberbatch.
And, probably, not a tumor.
***
If you enjoyed this Miss Snarky Pants post, you may also like these:
Yoga Is Not A Character In Star Wars
Part Deux: Yoga Is Not A Character In Star Wars
My Mortal Enemy: The Elusive Chin Up
Plus, follow this blog (use the blue button in the right hand column) and/or share it with your blogging besties!
Funnier In Writing 
Congratulations! xoM
Thanks. I’ll try not to get too full of myself before I see an actual abdominal muscle.
Or lest your waist indentations disappear, lol! xoM
I gave up a long time ago trying to go for the whole CPT Kirk Chris Pine look so I am settling into the post Star Trek, Post TJ Hooker, Post Priceline Dot Com, Shit My Dad Says William Shatner look.
So, what you’re saying is that you don’t have a waist right now?
Yay! Can’t wait to see pictures of your new sveltiliciousness. Whatever. You’re so beautiful either way. Good to see you with keyboard in hand again (as opposed to moving boxes and tape) 🙂 xxL
If I never move again, it’ll be too soon. xo MSP
I almost included a photo of my actual waist, but then I chickened out. I can write about my fluffiness all day long, but photos are another thing altogether.
Well, maybe the Before & After is better for home remodeling. 🙂
Absolutely.
I thought cheekbones were the things drawn on in an ear-to-nose direction with rouge. Tom Brady draws them under his eyes with a thick black Sharpie marker before the big game. What do I know about these matters, I thought foundation went under a house.
I’ve heard Benedict Cumberbatch’s cheekbones are all about the rouge. His entire face is just a faux finish.
One of the most presumptuous show biz names since Zooey DesChannel.
Presumptuous? I don’t know; I understand that he’s compared the sound of his last name to that of an underwater fart.
People with cheekbones like his can get away with saying crap like that.
I use the seafood diet. See food and I eat it. Sounds very similar to your approach. Congratulations on having a waist. I find it very useful for things like safety harnesses and keeping up my trousers.
Hope your moved in nicely. Stress can also cause weight loss. !!That’s given me an idea for a new diet book – I’ll call it “Short lived, miserable and grumpy but slender” !! It should sell like hot cakes. 😈 😛
I think someone wrote that book already and called it “Skinny Bitch.”
Wasn’t me, honest. 😛
It’s exciting having a waist. I’m not sure if I’ve ever had a waist, boobs and hips at the same time. I’m hoping the boobs won’t be the next to go.
Glad to hear it (I’ve never managed more than 2 out of 3).
Enjoy your waist, pamper it and flaunt it. 🙂
I’m glad your back. One can have a sensible conversation. 🙂
Sensible, yet nonsensical. 🙂
You’re the reason I love Brits!
🐻 😀
I think it’s from eating all that vegan-looking stuff you post pictures of on FB. Look what it did to Bill Clinton?!
I was a bad vegan. Pretty much back to a typical diet now. Interestingly, I did not really lose weight while vegan…and many vegans aren’t skinny. Why couldn’t God have made healthy foods taste better?
I could never in a million years succeed as a vegan (unless, of course, global shenanigans were to have their way with me) — my go-to staples are eggs, cheese, and yogurt. And salmon. And you know, stuff. Alas, on the other hand (and I have only two to start with) I may never see my waist again. But let me just say that I’m very happy for you. Because I love you. Otherwise, you could just f-off like all those OTHER Skinny Biotches.
Haha! You’re so funny. I promise you that I am NOT skinny. Not even close. I hear you on the eggs and cheese, but substitute sour cream for yogurt and bacon for salmon. 😉
The discovery of a waist is always, I mean always, intoxicating. I once went searching for a tape measure to determine what measurements meant when attempting to make a purchase on-line, I was depressed for months thereafter.
Congrats on your shopping spree inside your closet! Cheekbones I have heard are all the rage, can’t wait till you are brave and post pictures of yours.
Valentine, you are braver than I. Pulling out a tape measure is akin to dashing in front of a bus barreling down the street in order to rescue a baby squirrel. I don’t even want to know my waist measurement; I’m just happy to be nominated for one. 😉
I always thought I had cheekbones, but I’d hidden them beneath a layer of fat, along with the hollows below them – and, then, like a birthday gift purchased too far in advance, I forgot they existed.. I’m hoping that, as the fat dissipates, I’ll also find some spare change or some priceless artifact hidden in the folds of my extra chin. Though I can’t see it, I’ve been told that one of Voldemort’s horcruxes is stashed somewhere in my back fat.
Hey good for you! I swear sometimes metabolisms just change for no reason – it happened to me after I my daughter was born. I’m smaller now than I’ve ever been. Maybe it’s the stress of parenthood haha.
If I had a kid, I’d be emaciated. I can already picture myself, sitting on the floor in front of the refrigerator, trying to swallow one more spoonful of baby food before the actual baby begins crying again. You deserve a medal…made of chocolate. 🙂
funny stuff
thanks
Congrats on your weight loss! I do envy you for losing around your WAIST. Me, I lose on the boobies and my face – the only two areas of my bodies I’d like to see some more flesh….
I totally relate to that. My waist/stomach is usually the LAST thing to go – and the only reason I have a waist right now is because the boobies miraculously hung around this time. Give me a corset and I’m ready for some burlesque. I did lose a chin, so now I’ve only got two, but it was a real surprise to see cheekbones WITH hollows. After all, when your husband mistakes shadows on your face for dirt, it means he hasn’t seen those hollows in years.
You are so funny! I’m trying to find mine, I know it’s hidden somewhere…there.
Did you find it? Catch it. Catch it! Those suckers can disappear forever after one reckless night of pizza and beer.
Loved this post and bravo on the unintended weight loss, let’s hope it’s no tumor !
Thank you and thanks for dropping by. I, too, hope that it’s not a tumor, but if it is, I’ll just have more to blog about. Please visit again!
Benedict Cumberbatch is HOT. By the way, I’ve nominated you for the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award! Look forward to hopefully reading your answers!
http://russianmartini.wordpress.com/2014/09/17/sisterhood-of-the-world-bloggers-award/
Benedict who? Why, I’ve never noticed. (Snort of indignation from my husband.) Since you are a Sherlock Holmes’ fan, you understand why Mr. Cumberbatch and his tomato-slicing cheekbones are, erm, noteworthy. When the axe, otherwise known as a migraine, stops splitting my head open like a brittle log, I will gratefully accept your kind nomination, answer your questions and pass it along. Thank you and sorry it took this long to respond to your kind nomination. 🙂
Congrats! But seriously how did you pull it off? My post baby muffin too NEEDS to know!
I didn’t really do anything specific. I just ate a little less and paid attention to snacking. One tip I can give you is to make a huge pot of homemade chicken (use only lean, white meat), vegetable and wild rice soup – or any non-cream-based soup made with veggies, a whole grain carb (preferably brown or wild rice, quinoa or barley) and eat a bowl of it for lunch and/or dinner. Since I make it from scratch and use a low fat broth, I can keep it healthy. It’s a great meal with protein and healthy carbs, but low on calories.
And now that I’ve told you that, I must confess that I’ve devoured about 50 miniature candies since Halloween. Guess who’s making soup tomorrow…
Man, it has been so long since I checked into WordPress. It’s so good to read you again!
Happy to be of service. Welcome back!
Is this my actual Creeped guy? You’re alive. The fact that people like you exist keep me going every day!
Yes it’s me. I back and much fresher than those guys on the Walking Dead.
Yes. The crew is returning. We shall rebuild.