As I sit here contemplating eating another helping of chicken n' dumplings, it struck me: I could be skinny like the young ladies scampering around the college town I reside in, or I could be fat and happy. Which is really worth it?

I realize that I'll never be a size 2 again, simply because I'm older and my body is not that of a child anymore, but is it so wrong to want my cheesecake and to eat it too?

I wish someone had told me that my body would become a harbor for fat as I reached my twenties. I seriously had no clue I would not be a teeny size forever. Imagine how shocked I was when I developed fat deposits on my razor-sharp hip bones and my size 26 Citizens no longer made it up past my knees. I finally donated them after four long years of thinking I might could squeeze back into them. Ha, yeah right.

Now I sit and look at the pictures of my 18-year-old girlhood and think, "Damnit, if I had only known, I would have kept up that amazing yoga habit I had at 18 and 19. Then, perhaps, I would still be staring at razor-sharp hipbones instead of the cellulite that has accumulated in the general vicinity."

So I find pleasure in other people's FML moments - check out www.fmylife.com. It's pretty much a riot.

While I was busying myself in the Bahamas, lo and behold, the recipeints of my misguided anger appeared at my resort.

It was bad enough seeing the two of them, but I had no idea that talking crap to family members was allowed in girl warfare.

Recipeints, if you are going to say something to my family members, then you should be prepared to say something when you see me. It's only common crap talking courtesy.

Fortunately, the recipients didn't stick around because they had a boat to catch.

Oh, and P.S. - My brother is still my brother, and not your friend. Let's just be real.

Let's just say from now on I have mass. No more fat. Just mass. It doesn't sound particularly pleasant, but it's a better option than, "I'm a fatass."

"No, thanks. I'll pass on that chocolate cake because I have some extra mass."

Yes, that's what I'll say... It will catch on like wildfire. I can feel it just like I can feel the extra mass trembling on my massive ass.

I have put back on two pounds, and I'm feeling like a sinner.

Little Debbie and I have a tumultuous relationship. I am not an abusive person, but LD, if you were real, we'd rumble. I can't stay away from her.

Is there such a thing as fat camp for relatively thin people? I would never want to insult anyone by insinuating that I am necessarily overweight or obese, so I need a fat camp for slightly pudgy kids.

Can we make this happen?

I'm still hanging in there! Just trying to maintain is harder than losing the weight. Tonight. I was tempted with a juicy baby back rib. I refused to even nibble the BBQ deliciousness. I like to think will power is setting in...

Today, the gym kicked me in the behind and laughed. I spent a mere 20 minutes grumbling on the elliptical before I shuffled out the door into the safety of my car. How in the heck do people do this working out crap every day? Much less as a career?

My favorite part of going to the gym is secretly laughing at all the men wearing stretched-out tank tops with arms and necks the size of trunks and pea-sized heads. Bahaha! I love it. They look so ridiculous. Whatever happened to just looking athletic? Meat heads. Bah.

I am toning up a bit. That's nice and I'm sure the bf appreciates it. Poor thing. It's unfortunate what he's had to look at for so long. 

Yay! I've been so good and lost three more pounds! Goodie!!

Well, I've made my weight goal, but the hardest part is yet to come. I have to keep the weight off now. Let's just be real... I love Little Debbie and our last brawl only brought us closer together.

I'm working on a permanent work-out schedule, but I can't seem to put the pen to paper. Who really enjoys working out? I'd much rather be sleeping and cuddling my hound.

Any thoughts on how to keep my mind on fruits and vegetables?

I did it!!!! Yay! Slim, trim and sexy! I even have double proof... Told yall, Granny's scale don't lie!!! Now where's my hidden pack of cinnamon rolls???

Today, Little Debbie and I have engaged in single hand combat. She is making my very existence difficult with her box of creamy oatmeal pies. I already ate one. Guilt is consuming me now.

I also have not worked out today. I have to make up for these sins by exercising like a maniac tomorrow. I think I'm getting a spandex rash...

My whole body is seriously sad. My booty is so sore I can hardly sit down any more. I swear after all this working out, I better make my weight on Tuesday!!

Ok folks, I'm down a few more fat cells, but I don't know exactly how much. The gym scale reads 135 and my friend's digital scale reads 133. Hmmm.

I believe for the final weigh-in I'll be using my grandmother's notoriously accurate scale. (I suppose I can at least be fair to Shallory.) It has been the bane of my family's existence since my grandmother started baking three deserts for each occassion. We shall see on Tuesday!

Down to 137! Can you say, "baby, you're a rich man???" Why yes, yes I can.

Oh my, I fear I am dying today. I finished an intense aerobics class this afternoon (in which I could barely keep up with the circa 90s techo beats).

The adorable, tiny blonde on the stepper in front of me had her legs nearly parallel with the wall. I was the unfortunate girl in the scrunchie and oversized t-shirt huffing and puffing off beat and totally blind to direction. Right is the new left. Duh.

Fear not, dear friends, this schedule will continue until I reach my goal. I'd even wager that I weigh in at 130 early.

I must be thin and gorgerous by January 20. Don't fret. My money will stay in my adorable new purse that I will reward myself with from suffering through fruit and veggie diets and sweat-inducing cardio sessions. I may even buy a new lip gloss....

Down to 139!!! Yessssss!!!!

I'm getting skinny! I'm getting skinny! I'm still going to have some money to pay my bills too!!! Eat that, big bad enemies!

I have flabby thighs, but fortunately my stomach covers them. - Joan Rivers

Heh, yesssss!

Today was the start of my three week exercise marathon. My poor tummy is feeling the effects of the hour-long work out I did this morning at 7:30 AM (a special thanks to Moose, my hound, for snoring loud enough to wake me from my slumber).

I'm trying to keep my goals in mind, but I foul up after my day is over and I'm reading on the couch. Mmmm, chocolate is within 5 feet. So....

I ate it. Curses on grandmothers who send chocolate for the holidays!!!

I was sans-diet today for my family Christmas feast. Unfortunately, I was also sans-camera or else I would have taken a picture of my plate piled high with ham, dressing, gravy, squash casserole, sweet potato casserole and just about anything else you can make into a casserole. Yum, yum, yum.

Next week marks my crash exercising sessions because, as with most diet-related ideas I get, I am a firm believer in exercising until my fat falls off or my lungs cave in, whichever comes first.

I will dwell only in the cave-like cardio/cinema room of the gym and hide my muffin top among the treadmills until my glorious weigh-in day. I assure you, dear recipients of my misguided anger, I will be svelte and victorious.