Let's just say that I'll look like Catherine Zeta Jones' slightly taller cousin in it if I manage to cut out the bottles of wine and wheels of cheese while also waking up early enough to do something other than eat peanut butter by the spoonful in the mornings.
If I don't accomplish those things - I've unfortunately selected a dress that will not only provide ZERO support for an increased bust size, but also highlight any folds of back fat for all the world to see with the added bonus of making my hips look like a baby hippo (aw, cute!).
You'd think that with nuptials approximately 9 months away, and a dress fitting looming in only 4... that I'd have my ass firmly in gear. Or that I'd at least be reacquainting myself with the large, scary trainer man of my past... but NO.
Nothing of the sort.
Instead, I've moved back in with my parents (who cook large well rounded meals daily, and also have a massive wine cellar which is tapped every evening..), quit the gym, and allowed myself to foolishly purchase pants in a larger size (dammit!).
This leaves me in a diminished state and not nearly as toned, firm, or confident as I was exactly this time last year.
So, what does a desperate white female do when faced with such a situation?
She watches infomercials.
Yup, infomercials.
Then she googles, said miracle product and manages to do a "thorough" online search to qualify the likelihood that somehow a skinny blond bitch bouncing around to b-list hip hop will somehow be motivating enough for me to do 374 jumping jacks and 82 minutes of lunges.
Even as I hit "purchase" I knew that I was doomed. When the skinny bitch can't see that I've opted to take a 8 minute break in the middle of her "inferno" workout.. how am I supposed to be held accountable?
Regardless, I've purchased it. I feel that if I don't stop for a snack in the middle of the first workout, I will have been moderately successful.
But seriously, who wouldn't want to jump around with this crazy chick?
