Tomorrow is my birthday and I was wondering if someone could fed-ex me a can of Crisco and a butter knife so I could somehow glide my way into some dress pants. I’ve been wearing yoga pants for the past year and just realized that nothing else fits me anymore; therefore, in order to look presentable on my birthday I’m going to need that Crisco and buttering utensil STAT!
Seriously though, I really am going to be 27 tomorrow and it has brought up a lot of new feelings (or better yet suppressed feelings) and realizations for me. One thing I’ve realized is that I may have a tiny problem with taking things seriously-meaning I don’t take enough things, or anything maybe, seriously enough. Take for example the fact that during the course of my graduate school experience I have been spoken to by my professors three times. Once for not paying attention and looking ”lost”, once for talking loudly during a classmates presentations (Pff, she was boring anyway.), and once for not buying the text book (You were serious about that?). Another example is my lack of sticking to diets and/or treating my health as a serious matter. I don’t have to remind anyone how dreadful I’ve been at sticking to a regimented diet. I don’t have to remind anyone how I’ve gained 30lbs by sticking to a strict eating plan of breads, pasta, crackers, cereal, doughnuts, cakes, pies, croissants, muffins, cookies, chips, buttered popcorn, trail mixed, candy, and anything else containing more than 85 grams of carbohydrates per serving.
27 is different though. 27 year olds have to be much more cautious about what they eat. 24, 25, or even 26 year olds still have the comfy and safe freedom that youth brings on their side. I mean, it’s OK to fall asleep with a mouth full of Sour Patch Kids when you’re 24. It’s excusable to chock slam chicken nuggets and McFlurries during the middle of the night at 25. And it’s completely acceptable to grow out of two pant sizes when you’re 26. 27, however, is a game changer. At 27 you begin thinking about how you’ll look in a wedding dress and if your body, in its current, flabby state, is suitable for carrying healthy children. At 27 you begin thinking about 30 and all the health risks that come along with age. 27 is serious shit.
Maybe, even though I’m not quite 27 yet, I’ve started to think like a 27 year old early because for the past 5 days I’ve been on a strict gluten/wheat/carb free diet.
Disclaimer:
Please don’t tell me how I need “healthy” carbs. You can rant until you’re blue in the face, but I won’t believe you. Read the book What Belly by Dr. William Davis and you’ll never look at a blueberry scone, cereal or even oatmeal the same way again! Have you ever heard of someone referring to their cucumber thighs, avocado belly, or grilled chicken butt? No. But I’m sure you’ve heard of a muffin top, bear belly, or bagel butt. All wheat. I truly believe that I have a gluten allergy; it makes my ass blow up! (Not that there's anything wrong with a woman having a large behind, it's just not working for me right now at this time in my life.)
Seriously though, I really am going to be 27 tomorrow and it has brought up a lot of new feelings (or better yet suppressed feelings) and realizations for me. One thing I’ve realized is that I may have a tiny problem with taking things seriously-meaning I don’t take enough things, or anything maybe, seriously enough. Take for example the fact that during the course of my graduate school experience I have been spoken to by my professors three times. Once for not paying attention and looking ”lost”, once for talking loudly during a classmates presentations (Pff, she was boring anyway.), and once for not buying the text book (You were serious about that?). Another example is my lack of sticking to diets and/or treating my health as a serious matter. I don’t have to remind anyone how dreadful I’ve been at sticking to a regimented diet. I don’t have to remind anyone how I’ve gained 30lbs by sticking to a strict eating plan of breads, pasta, crackers, cereal, doughnuts, cakes, pies, croissants, muffins, cookies, chips, buttered popcorn, trail mixed, candy, and anything else containing more than 85 grams of carbohydrates per serving.
27 is different though. 27 year olds have to be much more cautious about what they eat. 24, 25, or even 26 year olds still have the comfy and safe freedom that youth brings on their side. I mean, it’s OK to fall asleep with a mouth full of Sour Patch Kids when you’re 24. It’s excusable to chock slam chicken nuggets and McFlurries during the middle of the night at 25. And it’s completely acceptable to grow out of two pant sizes when you’re 26. 27, however, is a game changer. At 27 you begin thinking about how you’ll look in a wedding dress and if your body, in its current, flabby state, is suitable for carrying healthy children. At 27 you begin thinking about 30 and all the health risks that come along with age. 27 is serious shit.
Maybe, even though I’m not quite 27 yet, I’ve started to think like a 27 year old early because for the past 5 days I’ve been on a strict gluten/wheat/carb free diet.
Disclaimer:
Please don’t tell me how I need “healthy” carbs. You can rant until you’re blue in the face, but I won’t believe you. Read the book What Belly by Dr. William Davis and you’ll never look at a blueberry scone, cereal or even oatmeal the same way again! Have you ever heard of someone referring to their cucumber thighs, avocado belly, or grilled chicken butt? No. But I’m sure you’ve heard of a muffin top, bear belly, or bagel butt. All wheat. I truly believe that I have a gluten allergy; it makes my ass blow up! (Not that there's anything wrong with a woman having a large behind, it's just not working for me right now at this time in my life.)
Anyway, I’ve been living off cage free, organic eggs, plain avocados, raw nuts and seeds, salads, fish, cheese, tofu and some chicken on occasion. I feel good about this plan this time around. Maybe I’m more ready. Maybe I’m growing up. Or maybe I just don’t want to be a fat 27 year old. Either way, I’m hoping for the best year of my life.
