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My ass now fits into a size ten and I let every salesperson from Banana Republic to XOXO know it.

I bought skirts, shirts, pants, hats, bags. And I don't even think my head has changed sizes. My purse size requirements, either. But dude, I spent some serious cash this weekend. The frequent flier miles alone from the WorldPerks Visa should be enough to fly me to Mexico to outrun the credit collectors and back at least three times.

And then of course when I got everything home, I had to try it all on again and prance around my apartment in my pretty, pretty new clothes and my pretty, pretty, almost-where-I-want-it body.

Of course, the shopping spree I went on a month ago was for naught since nothing fits now. Oh, and the one from the month before that. Oh, and all of the clothes that I asked for for my birthday. And the way my mother shops for Christmas, I'm probably screwed there, too. But who cares! I'm a size ten!

I WORE MY SKINNY JEANS ON FRIDAY!

Seriously, I don't think many people really appreciate how phenomenal it is to be able to fit into a pair of jeans that you haven't been able to wear in over two years. You just kind of stand in front of the mirror and stare at your ass of yesteryear come back to visit you for you know not how long. I guess that's part of the reason that I went shopping--all of these new clothes have to act as incentive to keep working out, keep eating right.

Oh, ass from the past, I've missed you.

"The fact that you're fat makes you look fat. That sweater just makes you look purple." --Sunday, Buffy the Vampire Slayer