A Daily Thing

I weigh my ‘Paris weight’ at the moment: except that I don’t walk everywhere or live on the 6th floor without a lift (car, and 10th floor with lift is my life right now).  Woot!

Seriously, it is great for a few reasons: I have more energy, Christian tells me I’m a skinny bitch (who doesn’t want to be called that?  If you say no you’re not telling the truth).  Ok, it’s great mostly because he calls me a skinny bitch.

Want to know what’s not so great?  Hardly any of my clothes fit me anymore, and I have no time to go for a thrift to get some proper fitting clothes, as well as very little money (damn you dentist!).  So I look like a hip hop artist with my pants hanging dangerously low, and I am at risk of pants-ing myself all the time.

I should explain I own only one belt and it’s very narrow – so it doesn’t really perform its task well.  And borrowing Christian’s belts doesn’t really work: he has wider hips than I do (plus they look manly).

Just to be clear: if you run into me don’t think I’m trying to be all gangster.  I’m broke and I only have 1 narrow belt.  Maybe I’ll just stick to elastic waists and dresses for the time being.

PS: Christian can actually dead lift me above his head now.  That doesn’t quite make up for the looming pants-ing and gangster look, but it’s close!