Dear Lord, have mercy on me.
I am making Grandma's sacred recipe for pumpkin pie. This, by itself, may require divine intervention.
However, the issue that I covered in this post was definitely tragic foreshadowing. And no, not the MIL thang (I still haven't apologized- Thanksgiving with the in-laws isn't happening. Boo Frickin HOO!)
As of this evening, my future sister-in-law has officially asked me to be a bridesmaid in the wedding. So I ate a Hershey bar (the result of blind panic) to set off the Thanksgiving Rebellion, and as of Friday, I am going to become one of those boring people who watches what they eat and goes to the gym more than once every six months.
Tomorrow, I'll eat a slice of my birthday cake and the stuffing and the Armenian food and the whole shebang, but on Friday it's- well, pardon the pun, but the phrase "cold turkey" comes to mind.
I know. I feel like I'm selling out, too. But I am really tired of taking photographs and finding new and creative ways to disguise my double chin, not to mention not even wanting to deal with the full-length shots.
So- I have until the end of September to lose...50 lbs. That would put me at a place where I feel much more comfortable, and while I still will likely be the biggest girl in the lineup, I will at least not equal two of anyone. And bless her heart, the future bride wants the dresses to be either sapphire blue or a deep red, with an A-line skirt, so it will at least be flattering. (Note- after looking at bridesmaid dresses online, it looks like they all have jewel names for colors this year. So it would be "sapphire" or "ruby" bridesmaid dresses. I don't know why I felt the need to share, but there you go.)
I can do this- I've done it before, I can do it again. Now, off to make pumpkin pie and mashed potatoes. The irony is killing me.