Friday, May 14, 2010

I'm so happy YOUR pants are bigger

Tony and I have both had goals from the time we got engaged, okay, well maybe from New Year's, that we want to be skinny and in shape for our wedding - and engagement pictures. In Tony's words: "I want people to see me up on the alter and be like, Damn, he looks good!" I really think he meant "we look good," but I'll let that one slide.

Since our commitment to get healthier, I think we've been doing pretty well - except for when Tony suggested we do the actual South Beach Diet. Yeah, not so much. Carbs are literally in EVERYTHING - including milk, which probably made me the most cranky. Don't take milk away from this girl, I will put some feisty on you! And since that didn't go well, we've been trying to work out pretty hard and eat better. Thank goodness for nice weather and a grill - there is nothing better than chicken and asparagus grilled!

And my efforts of working out have included P90x and my newest venture, Brazil Butt Lift - I vow to pass the pencil test. And for Tony - he's been kicking his own behind at the gym - and I mean it, he told me that he thought the elliptical was coming off the floor at one point. I really wish I could have seen that, and people's faces around him - I probably would have pointed and laughed. I mean, I would have offered my help and make sure he was okay. Right.

So through all of our efforts, you would think that we would be the hottest, buffest, in shape people you may know right now. Nope. Not the case. At least not for this girl. That's right, I have been slacking, eating sweets, loving my carb intake, and probably skipping a workout or two. And Tony brings all of that to my attention. In a loving way of course.

But I let it slide, thinking, it's fine, I have at least 5 solid months that I will be skinny and have great skinny arms (without doing the pose) - and I try and jump on the workout bandwagon the next day. However last night was the final straw.

We were on our way to our meeting with Deacon Charlie - and since we were both already dressed, and not really wanting to shower and re-dress, we decided to wait until after our meeting to workout. We were both determined. And to make sure we were going to work out after the meeting, it was decided to eat before. And then we hit traffic.

Ugh. Traffic.

So as in Ginestra style, we were running late. But I was starving. And if you ask Tony, I am not a happy camper when my stomach is rumbling. Yes, it actually could be worse than me not having carbs, but it's a tight race. Knowing that his bride-to-be was starving, especially since I said it at least three times in the 20 minute car ride, he stopped at Taco Bell. Obviously not on the list of great things to eat, but whatever. So I was just going to get a little quesadilla to hold me over, nothing big, just enough so my stomach would talk for me during our meeting.

And my loving fiance's response: "Really, you don't need to eat all that. I'll just get you a taco"

I wish you could have felt the tension in the air. All that? The four little pieces of cheese in a flour tortilla???? I couldn't believe it - the man actually tried to regulate my food. Grr. Of course this is after he already told me on the way over the jeans he had on used to be tighter and now they are pretty loose.

Great. So. Happy. For. You. Give me my taco.

And just to let him know that I don't care what he thinks: I ordered two tacos. HA!

Don't mess with a girl who has hunger pains.

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