I was invited to an event where I got the chance to dress up. Since I rarely dress for formal occasions, I hadn’t realized my dresses no longer fit my large, soft winter body (that I started last winter. Like the Christmas lights that never come down, neither does my winter body). I decided it was time to buy something that would sausage my rolls into one tight ball so that perhaps I could slide (shove) myself into a dress. I was trying these next level restrictive body suits on and halfway through started panicking, in the semi-regular way I do, when I get something on and sense there may be no way of getting it off. I am not sure if this is because I have raging body dysmorphia but it happens a lot. I get halfway into a shirt and realize I am going to need backup to peel it off of me. Only once, have I been so stuck in a garment, that I knew the only way out was to Hulk it off. The reverse fat suit I was trying on was just as stressful. I was using every ounce of my strength to pull it up when I had a mini panic that I was becoming claustrophobic and that I may need the jaws of life to remove it off of me. I calmed down when I finally understood, this is how it goes on. I would just have to get used to the terror when getting dressed to accept the final body product.

After I was completely dressed and had managed to get my polka dot dress on, I decided  I needed to pee before heading out. This when I discovered I may have made a grave error in purchasing a one piece body suit. I felt like Andrew in Robert Munsch’s “I Have to Go!” I literally had to completely disrobe in order to go to the bathroom. And with someone who has a small bladder and drinks steadily, this was going to be an issue. For every tinkle I would make throughout the evening, I had to wrestle with my skin tight NASA suit and get completely naked. 

Later that night, someone at the event took a picture of all of us. We gathered round to look at it. I hadn’t noticed that my space suit had also pushed up my breasts to look like 80s Madonna cone torpedos. My friend suggested that her belly in the photo made it look like she was having a baby in the picture and I replied, and it looks like I will breast feed it. 

Overheard in my dining room-

Me – “I won a giant Toblerone at work! Here is what is left.” (Throws a few segments onto table)

S/O – “Woahhh where did the rest of it go?”

Me – “I shared it with co-workers in my office! God.” (starts to walk away) “Also I named my mouth co-workers today.”

I just watched Tidying Up with Marie Kondo on Netflix. This is exactly what I did all summer. I went out to my parents and helped them tidy their house. I mean there were some differences. Instead of being an extremely sweet and polite, petite Japanese woman, I was an aggressive, judgmental, nothing-petite-about-me lady with a trucker mouth. Marie sweetly offers that you say thank you to things you no longer need. You sort through what brings you joy and thank what doesn’t and let it go. My process was more like – Mom. Mom. What the fuck is this? I don’t care. I am throwing it out. Or – Mom. How many scarves does one person need? Pick 10. I’m setting the rest on fire. Go. Or – Mom, when was the last time you opened that drawer? I bet never. And when you leave the room I am throwing everything in the there in the garbage and you will never fucking notice. To conclude, I have decided I should a tv show where I help people clean their houses. I too can help you thank your shit and toss it the fuck out. #AngieKonda

Overheard at Rob’s – 

Rob – “You are looking like you have lost some pound-age”

Me – “No Rob, I am literally at my highest weight ever. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Rob – “You know muscle weighs more than fat?”

Me – “Thanks Rob. But I imagine the one time I have been to the gym in the past 3 months didn’t exactly pack on that much muscle.”

Rob – “Oh. Ok. Some more wine?”

Sitting all day at my new job has been a major adjustment. At my last job I walked, ran, climbed stairs, lifted and ran some more. Here, I sit. All day. It’s really quite odd to try and keep someone engaged all day when zero movement is required. The only time I stay this still, even at home, is when I am sleep. My first day here a chair was not provided for me, so I had to scour the office for a spare one. I ended up stealing a crappy one. It was uncomfortable and shiny, so throughout the day I would slowly slide off it until I was under my desk. I heard one of the team leader’s was leaving so I spent the next couple days eyeing her chair, casually walking by to assess the quality. When she wasn’t there I would go sit on it to get a feel for it, to see if it was better. So the day before she left, I lay claim to her chair. I announced that it would be leaving that cubicle and was coming to mine for a permanent home. 

What I really needed was to get a custom made, ergonomic chair to fit with my crooked back. My significant other suggested that a chair designed by Tim Burton, basically lopsided would probably support my back appropriately. Accurate. #scoliosissexy 

Overheard in my car-

Me – “Ben, I Have to go home and setup my Thunder Rod.”

Ben – “What?”

Me – “The thing I got for Christmas, the Thunder Rod.”

Ben – “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Me – “Oh, maybe it’s called a Fire Stick? Whatever. They both things sound like vibrators.”

My Mother and I decided to go to the Sound of Music sing-a-long at the Mayfair theatre. Not only was there a long line up when we got there, it actually sold out! Last Christmas I watched the movie in my living room and after twenty minutes my significant other came over and asked, “Are you actually going to sing along to every song at the top of your lungs?” Ummm dude, is there any other way? So this year I left the house to nail out “How do you solve a problem like Maria.” The opening scene started, all the lovely scenes of Austria and finally, Maria circling at the top of a mountain and all at once, the hills were alive with the sound of music. And as my Mother and I opened our mouths to sing with everyone else, we burst into uncontrollable laughter. I am not sure if it was the magic of hundreds of casual (untrained) singers blasting a familiar tune or if it was the ridiculousness that we were apart of it. But the thousand napkins I had reserved for my popcorn butter fingers were used for the cry laughing issue throughout most of the movie. We also had some hilarious neighbours. One of them must have been a musician as she would loudly announce to her partner what note that last song had ended on. My favourite was her partner, who had obviously seen the movie at some point but had forgotten everything. After the first song he said he enjoyed it very much and hoped there were others. And when the von Trapp children were at the party and about to say goodbye, he pondered out loud what song it would be. By the time we left the 3 hour plus movie, we had gone through about 9 napkins, 4 kleenexes and any makeup I had started with was now gone or all over my face.