And you thought that the worst part of Chuck E. Cheese was the ball pit.Actually, it wasn't that bad. I won't profess to know how to calculate the points, but we had one large pizza between 3 adults - and one of those pieces of pizza died on the floor. The death was ruled accidental.
A moment of silence for the pizza, please.
It could have easily been out of control, though, and I can see that. The menu offered sandwiches, all you can eat salad bar, pizza with greasy goodness for toppings, and of course dessert pizzas. After a rousing day of don't-let-any-freaks-abduct-my-child at Chuck E. Cheese, we went to a local amusement park. It too was a pit of temptation. Actually, not really given the amount of pizza we had consumed in a small time.
The deal today was $10 admission: all you can ride-eat-drink.
This isn't as tempting as it may sound considering the "all you can eat" part included hot dogs (uh, the only beef lips I come in contact with are connected to cows I kiss), hamburgers resembling rubber tire patches, and baked beans that I cannot confirm were actually baked or genuine beans.
We had a wonderful time and returned home after a long over-stimulating extravaganza of rides, token guzzling worthless kid machines, $2 and $5 stuffed toys that cost 1/2 a nickel to make in China, and questionably 'nutritious' food. I was calculating the points for today and was feeling pretty good about being in-range for points for the day despite the nutritional ball pits.
That is, until I looked at the pictures from our outing.
Je-sus-god-at-walmart. What is wrong with me? I look like I am pregnant with a new tub of Crisco. I can't say more than that because the pictures depress me so much and I don't want to share them with friends and family because I'm ashamed I look like this. I didn't look like this before I was pregnant, and I truthfully didn't look like this after I was pregnant. (I was much huge-er while I was pregnant, admittedly). There is no excuse to look like this. None. I can't give up. Maybe it's not a shock when people who see me regularly look at these pictures. But I stare at them like a train wreck and instantly want to crop myself out of all of them.
I know I make jokes and have a good laugh about the ironies of being fat and eating disgusting food. It's not funny. It's not. I am not laughing.
I can't say anymore. I just can't give up.
I know the horror of the photographic surprise... very well, actually. I know for a fact that when I am not posed (I know how to pose, I've been learning how to do it to hide my fat for nearly 3 decades... even my ultrasounds were posed to hide the pudge), I look like shit in photos. I won't allow those to be in the public eye. It's a nasty, nasty wake-up call when confronted with yourself in a photo. Your brain can do amazing things to smooth out the bumps and bulges when you look in the mirror, but photos are another matter entirely. I wonder why that is? Regardless, it sucks.
ReplyDeletePS - tub of Crisco pregnancy... oh it kills....
A-men, sista. This happened to me 4 weeks ago when we took Liam to the zoo in Baltimore. We had a great time! I was feeling quite excellent upon our return home! I plugged in the camera to the computer, uploaded the pictures, and was quite taken aback by the sucker punch to the stomach the uploaded pictures delivered! Was that really ME on the back of that camel? No, no, surely it was some kind of photographic error. I do not REALLY look that much like a sack of potatoes and lard sitting on a camel, do I?
ReplyDeleteBut I do. So I went back to WW.
<3 Witchy