A lot can happen in 2 weeks...

New car. 

Personalized plates. 

Amazing and generous friends. Considerate plan-ahead boyfriend. 

Road trips to The Vaud. 

Last minute travel trauma. 

Road trip to NYC. Great conversation. You're getting on my nerves! 

Weirdest Bed n' Breakfast EVER. 

Down the Rabbithole. Subway rides. Times Square. Grand Central Station.

Coney Island. Tired feet. Soho. Canal Street. Cheap perfume = heavy backpack.

Little Italy = yummy food and wet laps. 

NYC's Sex Museum - dildo's and boobs and pornography, oh my!

Question: What do you shop for in NYC? Answer: Cheese.

The Burger Joint. Sweet romantic walks in Central Park. 

Harlem. 1 night in Manhattan. 

Long car rides home again home again jiggity jig. 

Still getting on my nerves! 

Last minute 10km National Capital Race decisions. 

Surprising best friends. 

I run for pizza.
I need to lay off the pizza.

I'm thinking about joining Weight Watchers again.

(Check out my personalized plates!)

The Naked Cowboy in Times Square 

 Coney Island live old school "freak show".

 Grand Central Station!

The cleanest photo I took at the Sex Museum.

(About to run a 10km that I did. not. train. for. but I *did* finish it! Upright, smiling, and injury free!)

xoxox

~J

Wink and smile.

I am now, and always have been, a social butterfly. I love my friends, and I have always loved hanging out with my friends. Except that sometimes my friends want to go to really cool, hip, happening places, with funky, stylishly dressed, beautiful, skinny people.


Granted, I am definitely at a point in my life now where I will go almost anywhere, dressed however I please, have fun, rock my curves, and flirt a little bit a lot. 


Maybe this is because of my age? my weight loss? my confidence? my I-don't-give-a-fuck-what-you-think-of-me attitude?


Who can say for sure, but probably a combination of all of the above.


I used to have a guaranteed complete meltdown at the prospect of going out with my "skinny" friends. I'm talking the equivalent of a 3-year old, fist-and-feet-pounding-the-floor, full blown tantrum. They were never pretty.


In preparation for a weekend trip to Montreal (where I am pretty sure it is mandatory that you not only be thin, but you also must be beautiful and super funky cool to be allowed on the streets), I would go shopping to get a new outfit for the bar. This would often result in dressing room tears and obscenities yelled at the sales girl. (Not cool!)
While we were getting ready to go out, I would snap at my friends in momentary fits of jealousy, because "you are the ones who all the boys flirt with, dance with, and take home (don't judge....we've all had one night stands), and why would anyone flirt with me anyways because I'm fat!?!?"


I don't admit any of this with pride. These were not my shining moments.


And then one day I decided to fake it till I make it. Maybe I wasn't the skinniest, most beautifully dressed, most sought after confident girl in the club, but I could pretend to be, couldn't I? 


I remember one specific trip to Montreal with friends when I decided to make an effort to look like I was having fun, and that I fit in belonged at that bar, too. And that I was single, and as flirty and fun as the rest of the girls.


The trick? I call it the Wink and Smile.


Remember Elle Woods in Legally Blonde doing the Bend and Snap?

Well, the Wink and Smile is just like the Bend and Snap, without the risk of a hamstring pull, or concussion. It also comes without the risk of any real rejection. 


See a cute guy across the bar? A friend of a friend has joined you at your table?
Put your shoulders back, keep your head up, smile, and wink. It is that easy to let someone know that you are open, friendly and interested, without ever really putting yourself and your fragile confidence on the line. Best part? It works!
At the very least, I always got a smile back. More often than not, I got a reciprocal wink. And in many cases, I got asked to dance. Just like all my skinny friends. Win. Win. Win.


Question: Isn't that what matters most in the life of a twenty-something curvy girl?


Answer: Yes.


I would be lying though if I didn't admit that as a thirty-something curvy girl there are still times when going out to trendy places gives me mild anxiety. I stress about the possibility of being the biggest girl in the club, not having anything cute enough to wear, being out with all my skinny friends and....depending on the day, I sometimes stress about not really feeling all that beautiful or 'cool'. 


It doesn't happen often (thank Christ!), but it does still happen. 


And when it does? I reach into my little bag of tricks, slap on some lip gloss, and fake it till I make it with a wink and a smile.


It picks me up and it works like a charm. Every single time.

xoxox
~J

5, 6, or 7...?

My personal goal is to work out a minimum of 5 times a week. 


6 is awesome! 


And if there is a 7th, it is relaxed - usually a walk.


Based on past experience, the likelihood that I will go to the gym if I have to come home and get ready first, is reduced by approximately.........90% 100%.


So, everyday, I bring my gym bag to work, and I change into my stretchies before I even leave the office. Trust me, it is still hard sometimes to drive right. past. my. house. and keep going to the gym.....but I do it. Did I mention that I literally drive right past my house before I get to the gym? On those days that I would rather take a swift kick to the face than work out, it would be soooooo easy to listen to the devil on my shoulder, take that turn and go home to watch Ellen. But I don't.


I like working out. It may not result in a loss on the scale, but it does result in me feeling better. About myself, my health, my life, my body, and that cookie I had after lunch. 


You do what you gotta do.


xoxox
~J