but i don't drink beer

i have a beer belly.

it is not cute! i am so over it!

but somehow i'm not. i just keep adding to it. i seem to like it. i must like it, because i don't seem to be trying very hard to lose it. maybe i think it really is a baby. that would be sick.

here, in this photo, i am partaking in a love boat moment on the cruise. i'll just tell you, i felt pretty svelte when this photo was taken. svelte enough to just let my belly hang out. well hang out it did and now i'm bravely posting it for all (5 of you?) to see. also-- nice double chin.

i long for the day when my boobs jut out farther than my belly.

what happened to dubs dubs you ask? good question. good question. well, i went a few times in a row, stuck to it, exercised, stayed away from pasta and bread, drank my water, took my vitamins, and then i just lost my nerve or something. lost my drive? my inspiration?

please someone do me a favor and tell me the secret to sticking with something.

i'm leaving for california in a few days. i'll be there for 11 days. when i get back, so help me god-- who i do not believe in-- i will go back to dubs dubs and get back on the band wagon.

you know one of the problems is i do not like my dubs dubs leader. she's got a little bit of a mean streak. or an evil camp counselor vibe. yes, that's it. evil camp counselor. but do i need to like her for it to work?

(whenever i end paragraphs on questions i feel like either carrie from sex in the city or doogie houser, MD.)

had another pregnancy dream last night. i used to think that meant i was creative and i was giving birth to an idea. now i just think i'm being paranoid, even in my dreams, that people think i am.

i have got to get something new to obsess about. this can't be fun for you anymore.

whole grains and chazzy,
rach