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Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Can you believe I'm NOT a professional photographer? Shocking, I know.

Ask and You Shall Receive...by Email

Email is a Wonderful Thing!

Thigh Acceptance Is A Good Thing

This is a documentary.
I've had many people ask me about the name of this blog. Reasonably Chubby. Why?

I'll tell you why my brothers and sisters. Because I've come into Thigh Acceptance and I hope you will too. Free at last, Free at last, Thank God Almighty, I am free at last!

But wait. I think I'll eat the last piece of 'Better Than Sex?' cake before I explain.
10 seconds...20 seconds...30 seconds...later.
Ok, I'm back. And feeling quite delightful.



I am twenty-one years old in this photo. I have black and blonde hair. Who cares what diet I'm on, my thigh problem, or anything else? Girl, go get your hair fixed!

I did want to document what the starvation/diet pill diet was able to accomplish. Fleeting though it was, a beautiful moment was immortalized. In my own mind...


Two short hours after the wedding was over, I was back to normal. I don't have the answer for you. I probably ate a burger and called it a day.



It's a fact. Reasonably Chubby thirty year old women should not wear their hair short and curly.
Unless of course they want to look fifty, then it's ok. Welcome to the Atkins diet.



Oh my. The soup diet years. This was a phase. I helped run a tearoom with my mother and took it a bit too far. I suppose I thought dressing as a Victorian lady might diguise the area of concern, until the gaunt look from slurping broth kicked in. I do look rather proper, don't you agree?



But I didn't stop there. I knew that the genes were against my girls, so I decided to start them young. That way they would be comfortable wearing a corset and wouldn't mind the stares...
My youngest reminds me of Yoda in this picture. Or 100 year old little woman. Her eyes look angry...

On my way to church ...'Honey, church ain't gonna help you with this problem. If anything, it's gonna hinder you the minute you walk into the fellowship hall and smell what's being prepared for the Easter luncheon.' I'm pretty sure this is the day I officially fell off the Weight Watchers wagon.

My "Aha" moment at age 40. Sixteen diets later, a membership at the Y, tennis team captain, and power walker extraordinaire. The moment you realize, "I've had these thighs my whole life."
And then you just laugh at what a fool you've been. And celebrate with some ice cream.



I love the look on Mr. Wonderful's face.
"Yo, dat's my woman. Don't talk about her thighs like that."