pants

and their relation to weight that is. mine, of course. you didn't think i was going to talk about the weight gains of some other poor sap? you are heartless, as usual. i thought you were going to think that. which is why i hesitate to tell how i tried on three pairs of pants today, all of which were tight in the waist. by tight, i mean gut-suckingly tight. tight so you can't wear them without needing to visit the restroom more than usual, thanks to that extra pressure...

the scale reads 152 sometimes, though it usually rounds out just below 150 in the 148-49ish category. not much. but when i came came home from two years in the philippines three years back, i was clocking a skeletonesque 125, 10-15 below my average 135-140. so where did this 15o stuff come from?

all this obsessing over a few pounds? what has denver done to me? or maybe i should blame it on the holidays: chocolates, cookie exchanges, parties. or the tetons. but i think it is much more likely that i was undernourished as a child, and am just now regaining my proper proportions.

seriously, let's think about this. i grew up in minnesota, where it is winter 6-8 months out of the year. (if you think i am exagerrating, visit my parents for a week right about now. but bring at least two coats, and plan on wearing them simultaneously, or getting severe frostbite.) eskimos wear fur coats, eat extra fat to keep their energy up (at least according to popular myth). me? i shivered in a coat filled with synthetic fiber and ate salad every day. salad is a summer dish--you eat it when you can grow it. but not according to my mother. which made me a skinny little runt, and accounts for my stunted growth.

so it is obvious that i am not to blame for my pants not fitting. they were the wrong size all along. or maybe it was just the holidays.