Hello, Fatty MacFatterson

I went shopping for running shirts today.  Actually, just running shirt as I only bought one.  And when I say "shopping" I mean I walked into the Nike store, checked the clearance racks, bought my $5 shirt and left.  Anyway, while I was looking through the racks, I realized that I was second guessing my size and thinking the mediums would be WAY too small.  So, I held them up to my body to see how tight they would be.  Huh.  They looked like they would fit.  How could that be?  Oh yeah!!!  Because I am not fat anymore!!!  I always do this.  Think that I am bigger than I am.  Because let's face it, once you have been fat, the fear of being fat again never really goes away.  Which is funny because when I was fat I think I thought I was thinner than I actually was.  Until I saw pics of myself and was like, "DAMN!!  Who's Shamoo??  OMG, that's me isn't it?"  But now it is ridiculous to think of myself as fat.  Not that their aren't things I would change about myself still.  Like the saggy potato sack that used to be my abdomen, or the droopy feather pillows I used to call boobs.  But for the most part, I am happy with my body.  As happy as one can be after years of mistreating it with booze and fried food.  I just wish I could stop having this weird perception of myself.  I guess thinking I am fatter is better than thinking I look hot when I don't.  I have had that happen before.  Struttin' my stuff, thinking all the boys are being brought to the yard with my milkshake.  Then I catch a glimpse in the mirror or see a picture of myself (usually in a sitting position so that my skin rolls are bubbling) and my dreams are shattered into a million pieces as I realize my milkshake has found it's way to a different spot and the only boys in my yard are there because they are playing with my 7 year old son.
     Just for once I would like to see myself in a realistic light.  Thirty something, pretty okay shape for an old fatty with three kids, smells pretty good (usually), dresses decently.  These things are true.  But they are kind of boring.  Maybe that's why I always see myself as an extreme.  Big Fatty vs. Total Hottie.  I would actually like to see those two duke it out.  "In the blue corner, weighing in at 220 pounds, sporting a burrito wrapped around fried chicken and mashed potatoes, Biggie soda in hand, HILDEGARD THE HUUUUUUGGGGE!  And in the red corner, weighing in at 125 pounds, wearing the pink hot pants, whore makeup, hooker shoes and drinking her dinner, TRUVY the TRAMP!!!!  HH comes out trying to step on TT, but is too slow for that quick slut.  She is also way more interested in her chicken friend burrito than fighting.  TT throws her liquid meal at HH's head.  Oh no!!  HH might be down for the count!!  TT picks up the burrito filled with fat and goodness.  Wait, what's this?  She is eyeing it adoringly, licking her chops.  She comes in for a bite and WHAMMO!!!  HH knocks TT over with her huge ass!!!  TT tries to recover, but fails as HH slimes over and covers TT's tiny body!!  Now they are both writhing on the floor!  It looks like a ham humping a piece of asparagus!  OMG!!  What's happening?  What are they doing?  They are melding together to make one average person!!"  And there you have it.  The description of me.  Mediocrity at it's finest.  But at least I am not fat anymore.  I always have that!