In My Defense: A Story About Wearing Leggings as Pants

I am a hypocrite about many things, but, most recently, I am a hypocrite for wearing leggings as pants.

When I was eleven years old, I lost ten-or-so pounds. As a general rule, losing weight when you're that young and already skinny is a really, really bad thing. So I was taken to the doctor, I had numerous blood tests, and guess what? All normal. Thyroid was normal. White blood cell count was normal. Kidney and liver functions were normal. Aside from being underweight, I was a perfectly healthy sixth grader with a high metabolism. The verdict? I was just doing more than I was used to. I was playing basketball, I was doing shows...basically, I was changing from a stationary kid into an active one. I tried to eat more.

A few years later, it happened again - I dropped about ten pounds for no apparent reason. Again, I had the same myriad of tests and blood work. Again, it was all normal, and the verdict remained: just active. I tried to eat more.

And lather, rinse, repeat at least twice more in my teen years. My doctor all but prescribed me milkshakes, and I tried to eat more. One of these instances had the unfortunate addition of my mother continuously telling me I was too skinny, giving me a complex, and as a result I avoided mirrors for a while. You've all heard body image stories, so I won't go into detail. My mother later apologized.

At age 21, after realizing that I was back down to 105 pounds and at the urging of my roommate, I decided to try another tactic; I got a gym membership and hired a trainer. It took me six months, but I gained six pounds! It was awesome! Here's where it starts to get a bit sour, though. For every excited, trying-to-keep-myself-motivated "Operation Weight Gain" post I made on various social media sites, there were a dozen "I wish I had your problem" or "I should be so lucky" responses. Seriously, folks? I understand that more people have trouble keeping weight off than on, but it's just the other side of a really sucky coin.

In the summer of 2012, I was again down to 105 pounds and pissed. In the last year, I have worked SO hard to gain weight in the form of muscle - and it's starting to pay off. I'm not sure where I am weight-wise, but I'm curvier, I'm stronger, I feel really good, and hey, I'm up two cup sizes and two pant sizes from where I was five years ago. SCORE!

I have spent too much time silently and not-so-silently judging girls who wear leggings as pants. I mean, really? Keep your ass covered.

I have an excuse - I can't afford to buy pants that fit properly. AND I AM SO EXCITED!

Although, let's be honest, it's not really that good of an excuse and most of the time I still try and keep my ass covered.

I Think My Balls Have Dropped.

I have a crush on a boy.

Also, Sam and I both dig Mitch, the photo counter guy at Meijer.

I gave notice at my job. I can't believe I didn't tell Sam about that until today! I feel ready to leave this place.

Number of Work Days Left: 20 (only 4 weeks!)

Friday I made a bowl of meat. Well, ok, it's meat, rice, pico de gallo, salad dressing, and corn. It's delicious! Or should I say was delicious.

Took some cool shots of Sam this afternoon. It was a really nice, almost therapeutic shoot. I'm ready to be a photographer! I mean, I already am, but I think I'm still waiting for that big moment where I feel vindicated and legitimate. This week I'm shooting with Rex, and possibly Jake and Adam. Bring it!

Chemistry Lesson

Several years ago, my friend Chris told me he was going to be a truck driver. He said as long as he was happy at home, it didn't matter what he did for a living. At the time, I couldn't fathom being stuck in a job that I disliked, let alone choosing one, but I think I understand now. I work in an office, and it's your typical boring job: faxing, filing, running around looking for files. I'm not really very fond of it, but it pays the bills and my savings are growing so I really can't complain about the money.

Chris is now going to school for chemistry or biology, I don't remember which exactly.

Mentally and emotionally it's probably not healthy for me to have kept myself in my current job. I'm not fulfilled or challenged, and I'm certainly not excited to get up every day to go to work, but I am learning to take time outside of work to do things for myself. For example, I rewarded the last six months of hard work and exercise by buying tiny neon shorts. I know, it's not actually that exciting, but it's something. I like to go on walks, I like to knit, and read. I'm learning to stop fixating on how much I dislike my job and finding other ways to make myself smile.

Speaking of smiling, the other day I had a gentleman over and we made chocolate covered bacon. If you've never tried this before, you really should - even if you think it sounds gross. He is...something. I feel like I might get weirdly gushy if I go into detail so I'll just say that I love his playful confidence.

And I get to go to the chiropractor in the morning. Manipulations are better than therapy.