another breast update

I missed my first fat meeting last night because I BOUGHT A CAR!

My dad (who ((I don't think "whom" (((I only used it once at work and my boss edited it out))) is used at all in AP style writing, I haven't figured that out yet)) I have a million stories about, but love too much to blog about) and I went and filled out a million forms and I drove home in it.

They took it back for detailing today, but the guy who is charge of body work(?) wasn't in today, so they're going to take it back AGAIN to touch up a scratch, fix something on the key and cover a crack in the glove box.

The guy came and got it from me at work, I though it would be ready before I was done, but instead, he came and picked me up from work, took me out to the dealership and we still had to wait 125 minutes.

He ate a cookie I couldn't eat.

But I have the car. It neither smokes, nor vibrates.

This excites me.

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At the fat meeting we have weekly weigh ins. I haven't been following my diet exactly, but I still thought anything over 3 pounds would be awesome, very encouraging.

I LOST ELEVEN.

Yep. I know you lose the most the first couple weeks, but that's a shitload of weight. I think it's one breast.

No joke. I told my Ma I wanted to invest in a food scale so I could weigh my boobs. Those things are heavy fuckers. She said they probably weigh around 10 lbs each, that she had a food scale, I wasn't alloud near it and that I was welcome to lay down and try to weight my bust on the bathroom scale, as long as I didn't tell her about it afterwards.

There's still hope.

You know when you go to the doctor and they sometimes have the baby scales in the room? (maybe just at the gyno) And you have to wait like a half hour, you're done with your magazine and start going through all the drawers and cabinets, pull your chart off the door , but never find anything "juicy?

Next time I'm in the room, and the baby scale is in there, I'm whipping out a breast and weighing it.

And if the doctor walks in I'll explain she took a while and I had to amuse myself.

I mean, that's what I say when the nurse walks in and I have the throat-popcicle sticks in my ears and the rectal thermometer in my ass.

Men: facial hair and jewelry

City Gurl knows what's up.

jewelry on men is NOT OK.

Wedding rings, a single, hidden chain worn under your shirt -- that's OK.

And while we're on the topic of what men should, and should not, do we're going to talk about facial hair.

PUBES OF THE FACE.

Yes men, that's what it looks like. Anything more than stubble look like you were eating out a hairy beast and never bothered to clean off your face.

Groomed facial hair looks like it should be accompanying cut-off jean shorts and a mullet. And more often a single man possesses all three of these unfortunate traits.

I assume those men are out shooting squirrel and beating their wives, much too busy to read this blog.

I dream in matallic purple

I went and looked at some cars yesterday.

I went by the Volkswagon place because they had a 2002 Jetta online. It wasn't there but the guy took me on a crash course in driving a cluth. Apparently, telling the salesman you don't drive a stick well enough to test drive a car isn't good enough.

So I practiced my stick driving out in the country on an old Saturn and came back to drive a 2002 Volkwagon beetle.

A matallic PURPLE beetle.

Do you know hard it is find purple cars?

It was 55, 000 miles on it and is listed at 12 something. I did some research and that's about what you're going to pay for a car that year, with those miles.

I really like it, and since I only like about 3 cars, AND since there is zero selection right now, I'm a little excited.

But it doesn't come with a CD player and there's minimal leg room, so unless he comes down to around 10, I'll probably keep looking.

Right now, civics and mustangs are my back up cars -- those things are everywhere. I think they're having babies on the car lots and multiplying when no one is looking.