I need a new wardrobe, a new attitude and a smaller ass.

I have been feeling totally blah lately.  I hate all my clothes, so I live in elastic.

Word of advice:  Elastic is NOT YOUR FRIEND!

Elastic is the bitch in high school that lends you clothes and fucks your boyfriend.

You feel all cute and skinny in elastic.  There is always room for seven more cookies when you are wearing a waist band that could fit three of you.

Then, all of a sudden, you decide you are going to put on regular clothes.  It has been 8 days and all.  You go in your closet and, after bawling for an hour in the corner, pull out a pair of jeans with *gasp* buttons and a zipper!

Thank you, elastic pants, for  letting me know I gained 4,000 effin pounds!

I have been in a frumpy funk for the past couple of months.

XX-L sweatshirt anyone?

I am totally expecting a camera crew to show up at my door any day now.

“Allison!?  This is Oprah. Can you hear me?  Your husband let us know you might feel better about yourself (and he will feel better about looking at you)  if you get a COMPLETE MAKE-OVER!!  You’re comin to Chicago, baby!”

My husbands advice to me,  “just lay off the snacking late at night, babe.”

Of course my response was, “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME?  THAT I GROSS YOU OUT AND THAT YOU ARE EMBARRASSED OF ME?”

Did I mention my husband weighs like 140 freaking pounds?  He doesn’t like sweets and he rarely snacks in between meals.

Yep.   I married a freak.

I have been receiving signs left and right that I need to go on a diet.  Crazy things, like not being able to breath in my jeans.  Also, someone apparently went into my drawer and switched out all my underwear to a smaller size, because they only cover like a third of my ass now.

And don’t think I didn’t notice that someone swapped out all the mirrors in my house to “fun house” fatty mirrors.  Not funny.

This was the final straw though:

Asshole Banana

Anyhoo, I  started a stupid, mothereffin diet yesterday. I’m thinking that announcing it to my internet friends will make it feel all official and shit and hold me somewhat accountable.

First step:  drinking  some more water. I set an alarm on my iphone to remind me to drink a glass of water every few hours.  My husband thought this was pretty nerdy.  It worked though. I’ve been peeing like a racehorse. And said pee is now clear. Pretty impressive, eh?

I know how to eat right. I also know what I need to do.  Less calories – More exercise! This would be super awesome if I didn’t love me some calories and if I wasn’t so flippin lazy.

Really, I should consider taking it easy with the wine at night.  I can’t even imagine how much weight I would lose by simply laying off the sauce.

Who am I kidding though? I need to be drunk to handle the size of this ass right now.  You can keep right on moving wagon.

Wish me luck.