My Body, Myself

There comes a time in every dieting fat girl's life when she starts experiencing changes.

New muscles, shifting body mass, the discovery that there actually ARE bones in her wrist, not just Jell-O Jigglers and whipped cream....

For me, that time is now.

Basically, I'm going through the adolescence of diet and exercise... and it's no less painful, awkward, or annoying than puberty originally was. At least my muscles and slowly de-fatting bones aren't getting zits (yet).

If I bend my wrist at just the right angle (not a right angle, but at the right angle), there's this pointy pokey bone thing that sticks out at the side. On both wrists. Huh. Go figure.

When I stretched my leg up toward the ceiling while lying on my back the other day, I felt the back my thigh and wondered what the hell it was since it was a bit solid. Muscles? There are muscles there? I thought they were gigantic, squidgy corn dogs! My god, why didn't anyone tell me before? I knew my high school failed me by not offering an anatomy class.

And let's talk about my arm, from shoulder to elbow, looking more like an 8 as opposed to a 0. That's new and different. Oh, it's still big. But it's a big 8, which I'll take over a big 0 any day.

I have collar bones, too. I don't know if I can handle this much skeletal exposure. Nothing but turtlenecks for the entire summer.

I fear for my life if I ever find out where the pelvic bone is.