Time to buy new pants

I've finally begun the process of letting go of my fat pants. I really love the feeling of loose pants for the most part. It's when the crotch begins to rub and chafe at my knees that I start to consider the possibility that they maybe, might be, possibly, may be juuuuuust a tad too large. I have reached that point. Last night I decided to try on a pair of pants that I bought about 2 years ago which turned out to be hopelessly too small then.

I picked them up to survey the basic cut and landscape of the garment. Yup......these are a lower rise which is never a good idea for me......but they do stretch which is a plus.......they don't really look like they'd be able to double as shelter in the event of a natural disaster so there's no fucking way I'll be able to fit in them. For years, my pants had to pass the "boat cover" test. If they didn't look like they'd be able to cover your average cabin cruiser.......they were a "no go". Imagine my surprise when they slid right on.

Pants buying has always been a source of great distress for me. I learned not to be too terribly alarmed at the size. What really mattered most was that they did not require me going in to a dressing room and trying them on. Seriously.......me?.....and a mirror?......and overhead lighting?? Just put me in a black bikini with white knee socks and combat boots and call 911 because I'm trying to cut my wrists with the price tag.

My plan was to find a size and type that fit....sort of... and just pick up extras as I needed them which translates to: whenever I wear friction holes in the inner thigh portion. This worked for a while, until pants that managed to pass the "boat cover" test failed to strain and creak past my thighs once I got them home. Lets talk some serious mental tap dancing to convince myself that the manufacturers were just cutting them smaller. You must know by now never to underestimate my ability to bullshit myself with a completeness that stupefies.

Over these last few months, I've gotten to the point where I'm able to say my weight out loud......to Hilary, but I can't say my pants size. The number catches in my throat like a hairball, so I've developed a new system. The good news here people is that my pants size "humpback whale" are finally too large to wear. My size "hippopotamus" are a little on the roomy side too, so I'm currently able to fit in to size "Rhinoceros". I don't think it's realistic that I'll ever be a size "gazelle" again, but I think that "zebra" might be within my reach. Isn't that just soooo much better!?!

I'm down 33 pounds....or 132 sticks of butter.

We rockin' on.