I Am Belted

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Aug 112011
 

My clothes have finally gotten loose enough on me that I have to wear a belt to keep my pants up. One of these days I’ll need to get some new clothes, but I’m putting it off because a) I hate shopping for clothes, and b) we’ve got a bunch of other expensive stuff that sprung up as soon as I got a job (figures).

Monday I dug out a belt I had purchased a few years ago, but never actually wore—the belt drew attention to my midsection, which wasn’t an area of my body that needed highlighting. It still had the plastic security tag on it from the store, so I took it to Alpha Geek for help removing the tag.

“My pants are just getting too loose, I have to start wearing a belt,” I told him as he pried the tag off.

“Oh, boo hoo,” he said without sympathy, handing it back.

A moment later I had a new complaint. “This belt doesn’t have enough holes!” I declared.

“It’s the wrong size for you,” said Alpha Geek.

“It wasn’t when I bought it!”

Digging farther into the closet, I was able to find a ratty old brown belt that I could use. This weekend I’m going to have to blow ten bucks and get myself a better one that fits.

Adjustments

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May 152011
 

Alpha Geek is getting used to the idea that I want to go places now. For the better part of ten years, when he’d ask if I wanted to go accompany him somewhere, I’d say no. Not because I didn’t want to go, but because the IBS made me reluctant to go places that involved long drives or uncertain bathroom availability.

Now that I’ve found a fix for the IBS, I’m hardly ever home. And when Alpha Geek heads out to do something, more often than not I go along with him.

“It’s weird having you want to go places,” he remarked yesterday, as we headed for a local mall.

Later, he added, “I feel like since you’re with me, I need to hurry with what I’m doing and not dawdle around, because you’ll want to go home.”

“Well, you’ll just have to get over that,” I replied.

May 032011
 

I could stand to lose some pounds. I’ve never denied it. I never actually made it into “obese” territory, but I was definitely just a few blocks away.

Still, I wasn’t enormous.

So I’m a little miffed that no one seems to have noticed that I’ve lost weight since February 1. I’ve given my fat pants to Goodwill, and my regular pants are starting to get a little loose.

Sure, nineteen pounds isn’t huge. But neither was I. I would have thought somebody would have noticed.

No, no, don’t say anything now. It doesn’t count if I have to point it out to you.

Somebody better notice when I lose the next twenty, though.

Bear