What Irma Wore - 1/12, Plus a Whole LOT more...

My first week of Weight Watchers yielded a nice loss - 2.8 pounds. Sadly, it means that I only get two songs for my MP3 this week - partial pounds don't count. I'm thinking Thoroughly Modern Millie and Popular. We'll see.

I also need to get my eyebrows waxed - which is more of a grooming necessity than a reward.

And finally, since we're going to Atlanta this weekend, I think I'll set myself up at Crate and Barrel to a few new salad sized plates in our pattern (Maison, in case you're interested). We seem to have lost (to breakage) a few of them, and Irma (not her real name), my WW Fearless Leader, recommends the smaller plate for the illusion of more food. I was doing that anyway and it works.

Now, let me tell you about Irma's ensemble last night. Quelle belle dame!

Pinstriped black slacks and a tired looking white top with some ruffled detail at the neck. This was set off with a weather-themed cardigan. It was red with white snowflakes, long, past her hips with pockets. On one pocket was a goose wearing a green Santa hat, the other pocket had a loon wearing a green Santa hat. The back of the sweater was really the ne plus ultra of knitted charm. It featured a cat in (natch) a green Santa hat. The cat had whiskers made of white thread that hung off the sweater in 3-D. Above the cat were the words "Let it Snow!" Below the cat, it read (Somewhere Else).

I swear it. I wish I'd had the presence of mind to get a cellphone picture, because honestly, it was the tackiest sweater in the history of the cardi.

Part two. If the sweater weren't enough, the meeting was pure chaos. Nobody has a firm grasp on the program. She can't explain it very well, and that leads to explanation by committee. I realized that I had been doing some fuzzy math calculating points - ie, if one serving is 2 points, two servings must be 4 points. Not so. It could be 6 points - it could be 3. Apparently, though, since I only made the error when making soup, I still managed to get through it and lose.

I cannot tell a lie - I was feeling so thin that I had hoped my loss would be a little more - but everyone seemed to think it was a good first week.

And then, I woke up to Thursday.

This week has been so damn long and frustrating - and today, we kicked off our 12 week health challenge at work. Which meant another weigh-in and...sigh...body-fat calculation.

Well, my weight was no surprise - after all, I was on the scale less than 24 hours ago. But the body fat - well, before I went in, I guesstimated it at around 45% - which is high, yes; very, very high. Only, it was actually 53.7%. WHAAAAAAT? I'm more than half fat? That's the worst. It's amazing that I don't leave a greasy ring around the tub every time I bathe. I should, to paraphrase a yo mamma joke, be spitting butter.

I gave my data to just a few people - the ones I trust, and the rest, I joked saying I needed to stop licking the grease traps at Waffle House.

After a few brief consultations with my fellow foodies and other friends at the office, I decided that it was just a number and regardless of what the start point was, as long as it continued to go down over the next 12 weeks, the actual number itself was irrelevant.

Except, naturally, it isn't. It's a huge, smelly, lardy, emotional ordeal. I got through the day, and came home and had a little meltdown. It didn't drive me to eat, but I spent some time in denial and bitching to Matt and my mother. Well, it's a long story, but I'm in a better place. Matt brought me flowers, too - and really, I don't deserve them. I was kind of being irrational.

For what it's worth, I don't think I'll have any problem winning the contest for the Women's competition. I believe I'm the only really fat girl who signed up. My pride is worth the $250 prize. That would buy a lot of flowers, salad plates and eyebrow waxes.

So as they say in the Hokey Pokey - that's what it's all about.