The French Know Plus

This was just posted on my facebook page from OneStopPlus.com. I thought it was great, even if OneStopPlus doesn’t use plus size models themselves. Oh well.

Anyway, I guess the real applause goes to French Glamour:


Why I love the French!

After yesterday’s release of Glamour’s body issue which featured a plus-size model (plus size for model sizing not real-life) French Glamour featured some of the most popular plus-size French bloggers in their magazine! These woman are gorgeous & while I can’t read the blogs they have inspiring images for chic plus-size dressing.

(http://www.leblogdebigbeauty.com, http://saksinthecity.blogspot.com, http://kylanita.canalblog.com)


Falling Down the Donut Hole

I have fallen.. down a the donut hole.  And in that hole is nothing but darkness and despair. Well, that’s dramatic, huh?

So it’s not that dramatic, but I believe I have done with donuts what alcoholics do when they hit bottom. I hit the donut hole.  The vast bottom of the hole.  Well four holes really.

I am just a few pounds away from hitting the 50 lb loss mark. And I feel like I have been floating in this 5lb range for a while. A good long while.  Donuts and pizza are the, as always. I do really well for a few days and then think “Well I have done really well these past few days, I should have some donuts.” Some is always four. Four damn donuts.

It was about two weeks ago that I hit bottom. I had been celebrating “doing really good” all week long. I think in one weeks time, I had donuts almost daily. Wow… that’s doing good.

Sometimes I don’t understand how my mind works. I step on the scale and see that it is 2/10th less than the day before and obviously I must celebrate… with donuts.  The next day, I am up 3/10th and I think.. well I don’t have to weigh in for 4 more weeks with Amanda.. I think I will have some donuts.

And that is how that week went. I don’t think there was anything going on emotionally. I just was craving the evil donuts.  That Friday was the worst! I worked out with Amanda at 12:30 and then after I went to pick up my new glasses. Hey I better celebrate the new glasses and get two donuts. Oh and I better get two more because I am depressed that the sunglasses (my first pair ever!) didn’t work and have to go back. So there’s the daily Four.

What happened next is really so horrifying that I haven’t told anyone about it. Not until now.

I drove home with my little sack of donuts. When I parked, I got out of the car and went to throw some trash into the dumpster.  I came back and opened up passenger side of the car to get my purse and my donuts…… and like slow motion replay.. one donut fell on the parking lot.. followed by the next. Then the chocolate frosted cinnamon roll fell out, frosting side down.. and lastly… and lastly.. the chocolate frosted cake donut fell… and rolled… under the car. I moved as fast as I could to save them, but it was like I was in slow motion as well….

“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo”

I couldn’t save them. They had fallen on the gritty dirty asphalt parking lot.

So I did what any true donut addict would do. I scooped them up as quickly as I could. I put white frosted cake donut back in the bag, followed by white and chocolate frosted cake donut. I picked the cinnamon roll off the ground, checked out the damage to the frosting and put it in the bag. And lastly, I reached under my car and grabbed the greatest one of all.. chocolate frosted cake donut.

I looked at the bag. I looked at the dumpster.  I grabbed my purse, locked the door and walked quickly to the apartment building doorway. That’s right, I didn’t throw them away.

I did the worst thing imaginable. Well okay, not the worst. I didn’t force little children to eat them.. but I couldn’t let them go to waste.

Once in the privacy of my own apartment, with only the cats looking at me wondering what kind of freak do they live with, did I do it. It was only then that I grabbed the first donut and ate it.

I am nauseous just typing that.

I ate it.

I grabbed the next donut.. and damn it, I ate it too.

I grabbed the cinnamon roll and well.. it was a little gritty on the teeth, so at least I can state that I didn’t eat it. Well I didn’t eat all of it.

But damn it, I grabbed that one that rolled under my car. I examined it. I blew on it. I ate  it. I ate it. I ate it.

I ate it.

I’ve never been so disgusted with myself before. This is what I am up against. Myself. My freaky little donut loving self.

I have not had a donut in two weeks. I also haven’t had any pizza. It’s almost like I am so disgusted with myself, that I have “scared” myself “straight”.

So I have admitted it here. And on Friday when I meet with Amanda I am going to admit it to her first.  That’s the first step, right?  Admitting you have a problem? I mean I can only go up from here, right. There can’t be anything lower than fishing a donut out from underneath your car and eating it, can there?

My name is Susan, and I am a donut addict.