Husky

Dear Diary:

So I climb on the weight scale at HotnessFitness and feel this crawling sensation down the back of my neck as if EVERYONE in the gym can see the number, because NO ONE weighs 145 in a world when Taylor Swift is six feet tall and weighs less than a gerbil — then I realize I’m getting the crawling sensation because Boy Sexy is behind me. I jump off the scale, and he nods at me, and my pants feel wet with the Big O I get just thinking about him. Boy Sexy is wearing Spanx-y pants and a tunic thing so he looks like Robin Hood especially if he puts his weight belt on. Grrrrrrr.

12# from goal.

Dreamed about Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Butter Fudge last night. Mary

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Dear Diary:

Boy Sexy’s lifting weights near me and he never grunts or anything. Because he is a god. Then he’s hanging on the bridge from parallel bars and swinging like an ape with oversized arms. OMG Tarzan. So cute.

Dreamed about Cheesecake Factory Lady Godiva cheesecake. Mary

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Dear D:

7.5# from goal, down 73#. Dreamed I was dancing on a zillion-foot wedding cake and eating all its frosting.

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Dear Diary:

Today Boy Sexy smiles at me and says, “BTW, what’s your name?” I say, “Mary,” and he replies in this Aussie accent thingie, “May-ree.” Felt my knees collapse underneath me.

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Dear D:

Boy Sexy is swinging from side to side on parallel bars, and then he says, “Why don’t you try it?’ I say, “I could never do that. I’m too heavy.” It just slipped out and I wish I could take it back, damnit-o-damnit. And we just stand there under the bridge until he says, “You’re far from heavy, May-ree. I’ll hold you.” So he helps me up on the bridge, and he says, “Now let go.” And I’m thinking I will die doing this and I start to fall and he grabs my waist and it is the most beautiful moment of my life, almost religious.

Hallelujah,

Mary under the Bridges of Madison County at HotnessFitness

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Dear D:

Today Boy Sexy’s on the rowing machine and I try not to watch him but it’s hard. He finally comes up to me and says, “Let’s try the bridge again,” and I say, “I can’t do it,” and he says, “Yes, you can. You got this.” So I go just to feel his arms around my waist and get another hallelujah moment and we go over and he holds me as I swing from bar to bar. Too sublime.

Dreamed about a gigantic Ghirardelli chocolate bar as a big as the Empire State Building.

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Dear Diary:

Boy Sexy wasn’t there so I strained my neck doing lateral pulldowns because I kept craning at the door to see if he was coming so now I need physical therapy or a chiropractor. Life feels empty and when I feel empty I head for the fridge. M.

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Dear Diary:

Today I’m on the weight scale and only 3# from goal so I clap my hands and laugh and lo and behold Boy Sexy is right behind me, and he says, “Are you losing weight?”

The last thing I want to tell this porn star is that I have lost 77 pounds so I just turn red, and he says, “I was fat once.” I say, “No way,” he says, “Way.” And I say, “I was last chosen in gym class.” And he says, “I had a doctor’s excuse to get out of it.” And I say, “My mom bought me Chubbette dresses.” And he says, “I had to get Husky pants.” And I say, “I dream about Godiva chocolate.” And he says, “Kale is good for ceiling insulation.”

I say, “I had to attend Weight Watchers with my mom when I was only ten.”

“My parents sent me to two fat camps,” he says.

Our eyes met and it was a SPECIAL MOMENT.

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Dear Diary:

Boy Sexy not at HotnessFitness so life’s not worth living. He must think I’m a dork and is avoiding me. Medicated my pain with tubs of chocolate chip cookie dough. M.

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Dear D:

Boy Sexy still missing. I am too ashamed to go to gym anymore and went on a chimichanga run to Taco Bell not once but seven times. Love Pig Girl

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Dear Diary:

Why is it when some people get depressed they can’t eat and waste away into human coat hangers and then model for Project Runway? Instead I develop mania for chocolate and cannot get enough and wish I could inject it into veins. Too scared to get on scale. Love Pig Girl grunt grunt

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Dear Diary:

After writing the above, I go downstairs to go to the deli for calorie supplies, and then suddenly I can’t live with myself in my messed-up state so I go to the gym. Boy Sexy is there and when I turn to leave he yells out my name. And he says, “I’ve been waiting for you all week and I’d wait here forever for you. I avoided you because I thought you thought I was a fat dork.” I don’t say anything because my mouth is gaping and my knees have given way, and he says, “Now you think I’m crazy-stalker-guy from American Psycho, but I need to tell you I’ve never done anything like this before because I’ve never felt this way before.” And I can’t look at him, and he takes my chin and pulls it up and kisses me. And I say, “That’s the first time I’ve ever been kissed because I always spend my evenings with guys named Ben and Jerry.” And he says, “Not anymore, May-ree.”­

Dreamed about Boy Sexy last night but can’t put THAT in writing.

Love makes the world go round. Mary