But You Have Such a Pretty Face

My blog is a little personal today, so bear with me.
This is a picture my hubby drew, which I think represents my warrior woman tude today. *snorts*





The title of my blog sounds sounds sorta sweet huh? Yeah, right. If these three things appy to you:





1. You weigh more than five bushels of corn.
2. You live below the Mason/Dixon Line
3. You clean up nice.





You've probably heard it before. And if you're a fellow curvy hotty southern cornbread and pot licka eatin' type of sista you're also probably aware that hidden beneath this saccharine sweet little comment hides one of those patented Southern Belle Bitch types slurs that goes like this "Too bad your ass is so fat."



Some SB's are a little passive aggressive you see, and would hate to scare the menfolk. They don't want do that, at least until they have them safely legshackled, then, well, look out Roosterboy, cause you're gone be henpecked within an inch of your life. I woulda warned them but, I was too busy fending off their cute but bony girlfriends' barbs that are sugarcoated so nobody figures out they're sharp enough to cut through me like a knife through butter, which I don't mind sayin is a food group in my book.


When I was a little girl, I was tiny, petite even. However, when I hit puberty, something horrible happened. I grew.. a lot. At the age of ten, almost overnight I got the bazooms. *sighs* While I could discuss the stupidity of boys at length, I won't because that has been established long ago, along with the fact that they have cooties which are contagious, and grow into these things called.. *gulps* babies. EW! But, I will tell you that other girls do not care for the ones that get bazooms first. They're jealous of the attention of the stupid boys, despite the fact that I was beating said stupids up almost daily for their teasing. I was confronted in the bathroom and informed that I'd best do something about the two ginormous growths that had sprouted upon my chest or else. *blinks* Luckily for me, I had mondo-next-o-kin and we did kicketh the arse, so it was established that you did not mess with us. (I cannot put my last name here, as we are just that evil.)


Little did I know that my own family would turn on me as I continued to grow.. my er.. maternal side is a bit, short, bony and just.. ok, they're mean assed pigmies. I was told continually that I was fat, even when I wore a size 5. But when you're up against a 4'11" person, you feel like the not so jolly beige giant. So, I retaliated by eating to piss them off. I didn't gain much though, and kept to a size 7 until I got out of school, then, after I had my kid and got on meds for a medical problem, I er.. expanded.. built on.. and stuff.


Well.. let's skip forward a few years.


I dieted, fasted, all sorts of things and couldn't lose weight. I heard the title of my blog for over 20 years and ignored it because as my fraternal grandmother, fondly called Meemaw, who was a larger woman said . Beauty is only skin deep but ugly's to the bone; beauty fades away but ugly lingers on. I take after my daddy's side of the family you see. I look a lot like my mother, but from the neck down, (besides the er.. girly parts) I am him.



So, while I ate the same amount the pygmies did I wondered why the hell I couldn't lose weight or their unspoken disapproval and that damn "But you have such a pretty face." I just wanted them to leave me and my pretty face alone. But they hovered like bony little vultures, waiting for me to gain another pound, prodding me. I tried to tell them it wasn't my fault, it must be hereditary or something else. Apparently, this was my size. I was healthy, happy (when they shut up about it) basically this was me. For 20 some odd years, I'd been this way... Finally, I just learned to live with it. And finally I tuned the evil pygmies out with the help of my hubby who said "Screwin a skinny woman's like sleepin on a bed of coat hangers." and then he um proved it to my everlastin delight *ahem*



Until *smirks* last year, I went to a new doctor who finds out that I have a thyroid problem. Yeah, I know you hear some say that "it's my glands" as they stuff their faces with fried chicken etc. But with me it was true. He said more than likely after havin the Mean Teen Queen it messed up and never got back on keel, and then the crap meds I took messed them up more. So, with my new meds and the thyroid meds.. I've lost about 35 lbs so far and now that the weather is changing, I'm going to start walking, hopefully this will make it go faster.


So, when they (the bony phonies) notice my weight loss, do I take the High Road and be nice? Hell NO! I squeal my evil little tires right on down Snark Street as I tell them it was my glands all the time in the snottiest voice I have, which is pretty frickin snotty if you must know as I learned it from The Southern Belle Bitches aka them. Is this nice? No. Do I care? Um, no. My pretty face is a little thinner, but this smartass mouth is just as big. And I have them to thank. How do I do that? Every time I open it to say. "Have you put on weight?" *evil smile* Time don't heal all wounds, but it does slow down the metabolism and all that bacon them heifers ate is FINALLY catchin up to them. Southern Belle Karma is a bitch, and I think she likes me, maybe she's one of my curvy cousins.



Jenna Leigh
Southern Belle Fruit Off
The Bitter Bitch Branch of
the Redneck Family Tree