Sh..Sh...Shush!!!

Let me tell you about a man named Sh! Sh! even before you start. That was a pre-emptive Sh! Now, I have a whole bag of Sh! with your name on it. - Dr. Evil

Thus begins a small bitch fest. I say small, but as I proceed it just may expand into an all-out bitch fest. Consider yourself forewarned. As I have stated previously, I have joined a cult known to many as Weight Watchers. No, I do not think I am huge; I just need some discipline in my relationship with food so that I can shed the 10-15 pounds that I accumulated during my post-second-baby period through the grad-school-era. The holidays in NO WAY facilitated any weight loss, ensuring that my favorite jeans....my skinny jeans that are a size smaller than all my others...do not fit. The Cult also enables me to bond with some of my favorite friends. What could be better? Friends and food discipline....a fabulous combination. Since my initial weigh-in I have lost 3 pounds and can now fasten the skinny jeans even though I still have the "muffin-top" effect when wearing them. I am exercising more and basically striving to live a healthier life. My competitive nature paired with my loathing of failure keeps me focused. Having the friends along helps, too. We have become a tad bit boring, though, with most of our conversations connecting to points and pounds in some way. ANYWAY...this is not the reason for the bitch fest. I do not mind sharing my weight loss with my fellow Cult members in our private little group. I will discuss it openly and honestly in the proper forum. However (here it comes) there is this one woman whom I have known casually for a few years. She is in the Jazzercise class I take. She, too, is a Cult member. I have no reservations about revealing my loss with her, but I am disturbed by HOW she asks and WHERE she asks. She missed the meeting on Thursday so I did not have a chance to talk with her then. Today was the first time I had an opportunity to see her. I walk into Jazzercise class....where I am comfortable with all the people....and she immediately inquires about how I did. No problem...I told her that I did fine and that I had lost. Well, that wasn't good enough. She persisted until I told her the exact loss. By then everyone was listening. One of the Cult weighers is in the class, too. When I joined, I fibbed a bit about my height....I did not want to risk being turned away because I KNOW I need to lose some weight (it really didn't matter all that much...I still qualify with my more appropriate height range). This tidbit of info has now been shared with the class AND THE WEIGHER! Rather than stopping there, she continued! "Well, you lost quite a bit last week, didn't you?" AS IF MY LOSS WASN'T SIGNIFICANT!!! "No, actually I lost less last week." Was that good enough for her?! NO!! She had to know what I had lost the week before! "Well, that equals 3." What a mathematician!!! Then she went into this lecture that I am not losing more because I am not eating the right amount of points BECAUSE OF THE HEIGHT THING! The height thing has become part of the weekly Jazzercise conversation repetoire. I informed her that I WAS eating my points because the points corresponded to weight and had nothing to do with HEIGHT. Enough already!!! I don't know why I am so offended because I really do not mind divulging the loss. I guess it's because I feel like my weight issues have become everyone's. So, there it is. Bitch fest finito.
PS - Miss Terie: This is the "SIX, YES, SIX" lady.