picture perfect

[yes, yes, i DID just use a michael w. smith circa 1990ish song title as my blog post title. i admit that this whole "all post titles are song titles" framework can be a bit binding. then again, if i ever get really motivated i could download all my blog post titles into a play list some day and have a life soundtrack!]

so i know that Yale does not think that i am fat. i know that he thinks i am beautiful, actually, and God bless him, he tells me all the time. it's a weird new piece of this whole "getting married" puzzle that is still a bit of a puzzle to me, but i also recognize that i have been praying that i would believe that about myself for the past 2ish years. but its a big deal, and remains a struggle. especially the weight part.

because what about the mirror? the scale? the marathon-made skinny jeans that in the intervening 4 months have taken on a taunting smirk from the bottom of my closet shelf? all of this vanity became a much more practical concern when my greatest sartorial terror materialized in the wall-t0-wall-mirrored room of the bridal store when my previously perfectly snug wedding dress failed to zip. hot grey tears puddled in my eyes, and they were not "i'm in my wedding dress!" tears of joy. they were tears of fear and self flaggelation.

and so now, with 3 months to go before the Big Day, something dramatic has to be done. that crescent of soft dough that sags mercilessly under the band of my bra must be eliminated. the spare winter tire around my midsection must go with it. they will not fit into my dress, and they will not be invited on the honeymoon. i hear people often wear bathing suits on their honeymoon, and this is totally inconceiveable under the current conditions.

several of my friends have recently started weight watchers, begun working out with trainers, or signed up for their first races to get in spring shape. maybe i should do all 3. or something. or anything. even if my dear Yale thinks i look picture perfect the way i am, he's not going to be the one to try to zip me into that chiffon column dress. no, no, he's only going to be unzipping. which is MUCH easier.

TMI.

cheers!