Thirty? Not the New Twenty.

So I've been thirty for a little over half a year, and here's what I've discovered: It's not the new twenty. Jay-Z? Remember that song you wrote where you exclaimed that "thirty's the new twenty?" You? LIED.

You see, my body was a little more pliable when I was twenty. I could gain some weight, go 1,000 spinning classes, and drop that weight in like three weeks. Now? I put on some weight and everyone is asking me if I'm going to have a baby. Are you laughing? Good, because I'm not laughing. I have one of two options: A) convince Jesus that He really needs to get on this Second Coming thing and use my body as a vessel so I can have a really valid excuse for being a pudge-bucket, or B) do something about this situation that I've suddenly and miraculously gotten myself into.

The other night I was at my best friend's house for much needed Girl Time.

"Dude!" I shouted. "I have cankles!"

My friend, who was in an Ambien-induced stupor, walked over to the futon and demanded to have a look.

"Let me see your ankles! Hmmm...you don't have cankles," she slurred.

"No. I do. Wait. See that?" I said as I lifted my ankle in the air.

"Hmmm...you know what I would do? Maybe you do have a little bit right here...uh...I would like, cut your ankle here," she said as she drew a line across my ankle.

"You mean, you would cut my ankle in half?"

"Yeah...in half...and then, I would like, you know, take something and suck out the fat here...and then, I would like...I would like...take this part and like...you know, sew it all back together!"

Needless to say, I won't ask my friend to perform my cosmetic surgery for my cankles. I'm sorry, but if I were to let her get anywhere near my ankles, I would look like Edward Scissorhands or the Scarecrow from that crazy Batman cartoon series I used to watch when I was ten.

This evening? I went to a friend's birthday party. He and I have been friends since college, and after college we kind of dated for a bit. My friend recently ended his relationship with his girlfriend, and, much like the good ex-fling/friend that I am, I tried to make him feel better by telling him that I gained weight. I mean, honestly? Wouldn't you want your ex-fling/friend to tell you that she looks like a beast after you've broken up with your girlfriend?

Oh. Maybe that's just a "me" sort of thing to do.

So I get to the party, and the first words he said to me were, "I thought you said you got fat?"

"Uh, well, I did."

"Well where are you putting it?"

I really didn't want to break it to him and tell him that the "flowy" shirt I was wearing was covering up my wobbly bits.

"It's in here," I muttered.

So I've come to the conclusion that I? Definitely need to get my twenty-something shape back - whatever that might have been. I just know that it wasn't my current one. Now that I'm older, I'm not embarrassed to put myself on blast in a public forum. I mean, I've decided that I can't try to lose weight via an eating disorder, because honestly? Eating disorders are A LOT of work. Seriously. You have to be really organized and disciplined in order to have anorexia or bulimia. Honestly? I'm too lazy to have an eating disorder.

This weight loss? Is gonna be REALLY interesting. Til next time...