For One Night Only

It's my ass in print.

Yep, that's me- all **8 pounds of me (hopefully I can list the number here soon; it's almost to a personally acceptable weight).

I was trying to hide my butt from the camera by lowering my shirt but the combination of a strong ocean breeze and a tight fitting tee-shirt kept me from getting the full coverage to my nether region.






I stood later on with my back to the sunset, taking pictures of the coast line and I realized I could see a slit of light between my two legs almost up to my crotch. It was very cool and if I wasn't so self conscious, I'd have taken a picture of it.

I'm still chunky, but no longer this chunky. I've got nice curves developing and I'm gonna be real proud to show them off. I used to beat myself up for not being a 115 pound blond stick figure (is it just me or does she look like a concentration camp survivor?). It dawned on me recently that I don't ever want to be that. I want the kind of curves that fill out a dress or a pair of jeans and make a few heads turn now and then. I want to belly dance with a little bit of jiggle and I want to be happy and healthy.

I'm getting close.