Skinny Girl Problems

Boy oh boy it’s been a while since I visited these, but the svelte-related-snafus keep on coming. It’s SO HARD being average. I just. can’t. deal. Here’s the latest installment of skinny girl problems. As always, they’re intended to be tongue in (gaunt) cheek. I have zero qualms with my newly reduced waistline and the license it gives me for sarcastic complaining. 

-So it used to be that my sock drawer contained one or two swim suits that rarely saw the light of day. Now, I barely have room for socks cause all my newly-purchased bikinis are hogging all the space. It’s a slippery slope people. I’m going broke buying these itty bitty pieces of fashion fun and now that the weather’s turning, they’re only useful when I run out of clean underwear. Someone needs to cut me off. Pronto.

-I just emerged from a one month stint of fun-employment and boy are my arms tired. Cause I worked out. A ton. I was at the gym every day Zumba-ing, kickboxing, pilates-ing, stepping, belly dancing, and participating in various other exercise classes that required me to let go of any intention of looking cool. That said, now that I look a little better in my stretch pants, people assume that I know what the crap I’m doing. Problem is, I don’t. As a former gymnast/cheerleader, I can hold my own, BUT all the UWS women and gents put me to shame.  Also, their confused and disappointed reactions to my inability to do a push up were no bueno. Made me wish I was a little chubbier just so they’d leave me alone.

-While taking a walk with my friend Ilana this week, I realized I have a touch of body dismorphia. After losing weight, there’s this thing of thinking you’re the size of a house when you’re really more of a reasonably-sized condo. Nobody ever sees %100 reality when they look in the mirror, but I feel like for those of us who have gone through body transformations every mirror might as well  have been lifted from a fun house. It’s like living in a P!nk music video 24/7… except you never know what size to get your checker print bodysuit in. And how are you gonna get the party started without an appropriately sized checker print bodysuit… Come on, people!

-And the hardest part about being a skinny girl is continuing to be a skinny girl. My lips hath not touched cheese in months and the only thing I do at ice cream parlors is window shop. And in the words of the great Seth Meyers…


I can’t even tell you what I’d do for a BLT right now… Oy.