Fatty Fatty Two by Four.....

Oh how I wish that I was a squaw....beloved of a stong hunter who would be unabashedly proud of my expanding waistline and growing hips. One who understood my stocky legs and plump cheeks were a signal to the other members of the tribe that he could provide well for me, and that we never suffered through long harsh winters. One who actually thought, ahhhh, my wife is getting fat! and was happy about it.....

But alas, I am not the wife of a bronzed Indian warrior, and my pleasingly plump frame is not a sign of great wealth and an easy life, but instead, a sign of a lazy and slovenly (not to mention unattractive) slob. So, since the fates have viciously set me in this time and place, and made me of European descent, I have determined that it is in my best interest to get fit.

Diet diet here I come!

But in my next life I'm going to be a SQUAW!