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This is a true story about me and my fear of being overweight.
Enjoy!
132. I thought to myself as I saw the number appear on the scale. I wasn't overweight. Not yet, but I was on the verge of it.
I hated being chubby. I've been chubby my whole life. It was awful. I felt like I looked bad all the time and my stomach poked out from all my shirts. I had to do something about it. That's why I joined the gym. Luckily twelve was the minimum age to join the gym and seeing as how I was twelve at the time, I couldn't pass up this opportunity. Even though it was expensive, that wasn't really my problem seeing as how my parents paid for it.
I got off the scale and headed for the elliptical. At first I would do simple workouts. Just ten or fifteen minutes on the elliptical, then I was done. But as the summer progressed on, the workouts got more and more challenging. I moved from the elliptical on to the treadmill. I started off running for just fifteen minutes, then to twenty minutes. Then to twenty-five and on to thirty. I also sped up over time. I started off on four point five miles per hour and got all the way up to six point three. By then I started lifting weights, too. One day I would run for thirty minutes and the next day I would run for twenty and life weights for ten.
Every week the number on the scale went down and I began to get skinnier and skinnier. By the end of the summer I was at about 120. I had lost a lot of weight but wasn't as satisfied. Through the rest of the school year I would go to the gym every day after school. By September I started getting up at 5:30 AM to go to the gym before school. It was better than going after school because I got it over with and I had more time to do my homework.
By about December I was down to 112. My body definitely looked better but I still had that little stomach that poked out of my shirt. I hated it, but I had to deal with it because if I got any skinnier I'd be underweight.
Even though I'm satisfied with my body now, I'm still terrified of being fat. I read the Half Their Size issue of People and see all the overweight people and always think I would hate to look like that.
Did you know about 97 million adults are overweight or obese in the United States alone? It seems to be a real big problem here.
Maybe I'm so scared of it because I feel like it's a disease that i could catch and die from. It's just not that simple. I like to think that if I felt myself getting heavier I would do something about it. But what if I couldn't? What if once I started gaining weight, I couldn't stop, no matter how little I ate and how much I worked out? That's my worst nightmare.
The only problem with staying thin is that I love to eat and I hate to exercise. Exercising is no fun and eating is lots of fun. I love cake and cookies and ice cream. I don't like meat though. It makes it easier to stay skinny since I'm a vegetarian. I'm not a vegetarian because I want to stay skinny, I'm a vegetarian because I love animals and don't want to eat them. I just thought I would clear that up.
I'm yet to have dreams about becoming fat which I'm surprised about. I always have nightmares about my worst fears, like being late for school. But I'll talk about that in another story.
I'm absolutely horrified of becoming overweight. I had to deal with it enough when I was younger. My homeroom teacher hung up our fifth grade class picture in the hall and I want to vomit every time I pass it because I look like a tub of lard.
I remember in third, maybe fourth grade that I tried on my mom's jeans one time. They didn't fit. I couldn't get them past my thighs. That's when it hit me that something was wrong with me. I always knew I was big because I could see it in the mirror, but I never saw it as a problem until then. If a little eight year old couldn't fit into her mom's jeans because they're too small, what was wrong? I still can't fit into my mom's jeans, but this time for a different reason: they're too big.
I don't think I ever was overweight, but I sure was close. My mom and the doctor always told me I was average, but we all knew I was about a pound away from being overweight.
Being overweight seems like the end of the world to me. I'm sure it's not as bad as I think it is, but I don't want to be fat.
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This is a true story about going shopping for my eighth grade graduation dress.
Comment if you read it, please. Thanks and enjoy.
I sat patiently as I waited for my mom to get home from lunch with my grandma. Suddenly I heard the front door open and shut. I hopped up and crept into the front room to see if it's them. False alarm. It was just my brother back from taking the SAT.
I went back to the family room and watched Press Your Luck! no GSN.Haha, double whammy. I thought to myself when one person landed on a double whammy.
I heard my dad curse from his office. He plays violent computer games and whenever something doesn't go his way he just yells. We have a curse word jar, but it doesn't help much. By now it's full to the top.
The front door open and closed again. This time it had to be them. I turned off the TV and put the universal remote back into its charging place. I hurried into the front room and heard them talking.
"Well, I better be heading out now," my grandma said once I entered the room.
"Bye," I said as I half-hugged her. Her fake boobs are hard as rock, so you don't want to hug too tightly.
My mom walked her out and I watched as my grandma struggled to get into her van. My mom waved good bye and walked back into the house.
"Shall we?" she asked.
"Of course," I replied.
We walked out of the house and into her car. We drove in silence for the next fifteen minutes until we pulled into the mall parking lot. My heart was pounding just thinking about the journey we were about to embark on.
I'm not a big fan of clothes shopping. Never have been, never will be. It's stressful and tiring. Especially when you don't find what you're looking for. Then it gets frustrating; but this time was a little different. I was excited because we were shopping for an important piece of clothing: a graduation dress.
Yes, it was only my eighth grade graduation, and yes it was two and a half months away at that point, but it still felt important. We decided to start looking early as we figured a white or ecru dress wouldn't be so easy to find.
We started at Sears because that's where we parked in front of. We made our way to the dress section. I walked briskly up and down the aisles, looking for any trace of white. A-ha. I thought to myself.II see you sliver of white hiding behind that hot pink gown. I walked up to it. and sighed. Yes, it was white, but it was the shortest little dress I had ever seen. If I had worn it, it would be more like a shirt. The dress had to be at least tea length (mid-calf). Plus this dress had spaghetti straps. Spaghetti straps were not allowed. The sleeves had to be at least one inch think. These straps were not even half an inch thick.
The search continued. After Sears we breezed through a couple stores like Ann Taylor. Nothing. We tried White House Black Market. Plenty of perfect dresses there, too bad they were all black.
On to Macy's. I found one dress while we were there. It wasn't perfect but it was worth a try on. So I did. It was too short, though, and it didn't fit right.
We tried a few other stores with no luck. We decided we were done there and went to the next mall. We went to every store that could possibly have an appropriate white dress, but had no luck.
We entered Nordstrom with little hope left. I fast-walked through the dresses. And there it was. The perfect dress. It was like love at first sight. I was overwhelmed with happiness at that moment. It was a beautiful white, sleeveless sheath dress. You know, like the one Audrey Hepburn wore in Breakfast At Tiffany's? This one just had to be longer and white. The one I saw was. It was breathtaking. Absolutely wonderful. I strode towards it, feeling dizzy. My search was finally over. I walked up to it from behind and looked at the front. A gigantic bow was at the neckline and tons of little triangles covered the front of the dress. At least I would look good from behind. But it just wasn't worth it to me.
When we were heading for the escalator I saw my arch-nemesis. There she was in her ridiculously short shorts, suede cowboy boots and her huge muffin top running over her pants. She is way to big to wear a little outfit like that. As much as I dislike her, I still waved. I don't like people that I dislike to know that I don't like them, as it's a sign of weakness. Instead I just put on a happy face and pretend to be friendly around them even though inside I feel like punching them in the face.
"Hi," I said to her.
"Hey," she replied.
Her mom walked over and told us they were shopping for a graduation dress, too.
"Jessica McClintock," her mom said in her thick southern accent. "That's where we bought her dress."
"That's where we were just going to go," I told her.
Apparently all Jessica's dresses have spaghetti straps or are strapless. If I were to buy one I would have to wear something over top. Also, just about everyone else in my class is going there, so she had to take a picture of the dress they bought so no one would buy the same one.
As my mom and I were going down the escalator, my mom said, "They pretty much just told us not to go to Jessica McClintock."
So we breezed through there just to look. And so my mom could take some perfume samples. She's obsessed with perfume.
We left and went to a dress rental shop. It was for wedding dresses, sweet sixteen dresses or quinceanera dresses. All of the dresses were awful, so we left. I had given up hope. I figured we wouldn't find a dress until the weekend before graduation.
Once we got home we went on the computer and spent about an hour searching. What I really wanted was a sleeveless sheath dress. So we searched and we searched, and every time we saw the perfect dress it was a) too expensive b) too short or c) the neckline was too low.
Finally, after a long hour and a half of searching we came across a website with cheap-ish dresses. We looked with anticipation, hoping the next one would be long enough and in white. And there it was. The most perfect dress I could hope for. A sleeveless floor-length dress. (I didn't want it to be floor-length but at least it wasn't short. Plus we could always get it tailored).
"Buy it! Buy it now," I commanded my mom.
"Okay. I need my thing," she explained. She's not very good with words, but I knew what she was saying, so I ran into the kitchen to get her wallet. She bought the dress and managed to find a free shipping code online. That made it only sixty dollars as opposed to the seventy with shipping.
I was so happy I could cry. After many hours of searching I had finally found the perfect dress.
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This is a short story I entered in the arena. It's called "Tears and Snot Bubbles". It's a true story that happened to me. Only small details were made up. If you actually read it, can you comment, please? I would really appreciate it. Thanks and enjoy!
I was sitting in science class with tears streaming down my face and snot bubbling out of my nose. My head was wedged into my book so no one could see my sorrow.
I've always been embarrassed of my emotional issues. I cry at anything remotely sad and worry about every little thing. This time I was sad because winter break was over and I missed my mom. Where's your mom? you may be asking yourself. Well, she's at work, as usual. Nothing different or out of the ordinary. I just keep feeling overwhelmed. Like something will happen to her. I feel like if I'm not with her, who knows what's happened to her? I won't know until I can rush home from school on my bike and call her. For now, I just have to wonder where she is, what she's doing, if she's okay or not.
To make matters worse, he's not here today. I have no eye candy for the day or any manly-smelling smells.
What's happened to him? I wonder. For a moment I've forgotten about my mother's safety. I missed him now. I was head over heels in love with him. The only problem: he didn't even like me. Maybe his mom killed him. I thought. Mom. Oh, I hope my mom is okay. And there I was. Right back where I started.
I was so overwhelmed with emotions. Anxious, depressed, angry. Petting fluffy puppies. Eating a gigantic chocolate chip cookie. Petting fluffy puppies while eating a chocolate chip cookie. No matter how many good thoughts I stuck in my head, the anxiety still wouldn't go away.
I calculated how many hours were left of school in my head. Five hours and fifty minutes. There were five minutes left of this class period. Five more minutes, five more minutes, five more minutes. Then the bell. I darted out of that classroom so fast that nobody even noticed I left. I exchanged my science book and binder for my English binder. I checked myself in my locker mirror to examine the damage. My eyes were shiny and it looked like I had pink eye liner on. I took a quick stop in the restroom to splash some water on my face and calm down a bit.
"It's okay, it's okay," I said to myself aloud. "Everything is going to be okay."
I finished saying this just as one of my classmates walked into the bathroom.
"Who are you talking to?" she asked.
"Myself," I replied.
"Oh, okay," she said as if she knows I always talk to myself. I thought I was pretty good about hiding it usually.
Anyway, on to English. I sat at my desk and greeted the teacher.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Is it that noticeable? "Yeah. Just post-holiday blues," I told her.
"Oh, well I hope you feel better," she replied.
"Thanks."
English went by so slowly. I just stared at the teacher's mouth the whole time, studying her teeth. They were mostly straight except one that came out a little.
By the time class was halfway over and my face and handkerchief were soaking wet, the door opened. I anticipated who it was, hoping it wasn't the office secretary delivering the bad news that my mother was in a fatal car accident. No, it was something a million times better. It was him. My stomach filled with butterflies, and my tears dried up.
He sat down in front of me and I smiled my first smile of the day. Suddenly, my worries were gone. All that was left in my brain were thoughts of him. His warm smile, his chocolate brown eyes, his gigantic head covered with a beautiful black mane that reached the bottom of his skull. I stared at the back of his head for the remainder of class. It was the most beautiful head I had ever seen. Like a handcrafted statue.
Near the end of class he turned around and looked me in the eyes.
"What's the science homework?" he asked in that smooth voice of his.
"Read section two of chapter three and do the assessment," I told him.
"Thanks." He smiled and turned back around. My heart was pounding as fast as a racehorse on acid. I just loved his voice. Sweet and smooth like honey. I craved to hear him speak. The bell rang and leaving class, he walked in front of me to get to the door. That familiar smell of Axe filled my nostrils. I usually didn't like it very much, but when he wore it, it smelled incredible. Like a man. A manly man who wore Axe. Orgasmic, is what it was.
I was happy the rest of the day. When I got home I called my mom and she was fine. I told her all about the cure to my tears.
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