Arm Wrestle

I have fat arms. There I said it. I know everyone laments one or two body parts that they can't stand and can't ever seem to tone up. But it's normally the thighs or the butt or the stomach. You know, normal places. (Incidentally, I have made peace with my butt and thighs, but am still in talks with my stomach. We are planning to call in a mediator soon.)

You never hear people complaining about their arms, which kind of makes me feel like a freak. I guess arms don't really get a lot of play in the world of body parts. It's not like people pay to go into peep shows to see bare biceps. In photos, I'm always wary when I've been wearing something with short sleeves, because inevitably it will look like two large hams are protruding from my shoulders masquerading as appendages.

It's a problem when clothes shopping too. I have shirts that fit me otherwise, in fact, they might even be too big around the body, but that are so tight around my upper arms, I can feel my fingers turning purple. I was once shopping in one of those boutique places that you know are kind of overpriced, but you feel it absolves your guilt that the clothes were less likely made by blind orphans in Vietnam. I saw this cute jacket, but when I went to try it on, I couldn't get it past my elbow. I commented that the arms seemed a little tight. The blonde stick figure, who apparently worked in the store, then proceeded to tear it out of my hands and pull the coat on thereby demonstrating it fit her where it wouldn't fit me. As you can imagine, that pissed me off. Feeling a little like Quasimodo, I took my knuckle dragging, flabby-armed self out of that store.

Food yesterday:
oatmeal and brown sugar 3 pts
cheese and crackers 4 pts
soup 3 pts
samosa sandwich 6 pts
wine 4 pts (I am feeling the effects of using my last four point on alcohol rather than food yesterday. It's 9 am and I'm already starving despite the fact I ate breakfast not very long ago. Serves me right I suppose. Next time I'll have a banana. Oh who are we kidding?)