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."

"Better Than Sex Cake?"...

This weekend I was inspired. Our good friends came down to visit and celebrate their 1st Wedding Anniversary with us. I knew I needed to do something very special in honor of these love birds. I racked my brain for at least 5 minutes... That's when I remembered an old recipe I had tucked away years ago from my dear Aunt Ann. Her "Better Than Sex?" recipe...What better time than now to try it?

The cake was delicious. It has layers and layers of sinful goodness which we all enthusiastically gobbled down. What I didn't realize was that it also held secret magical powers...

See for yourself.

Um, Why is Mr. Wonderful's leg... there?...Why is our friend enjoying it so much?

And then there's this. A picture is worth a thousand words...Would'nt you agree?

Thanks Aunt Ann. For a really great weekend...

P.S. I've added this recipe under the Church Food page...hurry...

Here's to anniversaries, and marriage, and LOVE...and cake.

Important Update! Please Read...

A vicious rumor has been spreading like wildfire and it needs to stop. I have no idea how it started...*wink,wink*

What, what, WHAT?? you ask...These fine people (*see featured photo above) DO NOT stay in their pajamas all day as had been previously reported. They shower, they dress, they have lives. They wisely, after having their lives threatened, follow this blog.

So, stop the madness and get your facts straight people. :) P.S. If you know of any other dirt pass it my way, would ya?

Today I Feel Sad...

"Why", you ask, "do you feel sad?"

"Oh, no reason." I say, gazing off into the distance.



"What's wrong?" you question, a slight touch of irritation creeping into your voice.

"Nothing", I reply, with a dramatic slump of the shoulder.



"Okay". You sigh, and turn to walk away.

"Well I'll tell you if really want to know..."





"God help me", you murmur under your breath.





I feel sad because certain people...MY PARENTS...haven't signed up to follow me on this blankety-blank blog. They know I'm in a contest to see how many suckers...I mean, folks... I can get to follow me. If I can't get people like these, they're still in their pajamas for gosh sakes! then who?



Not my oldest daughter and her boyfriend who thinks he's a duck. I'm glad she's happy about it, 'cuz personally I'm a little concerned.

Not even my nephews. Yes they are a tad bit young, but you know what? They can READ, therefore they can follow. Otherwise, what's the point of all that birthday money I've given them over the years?

But here's the real disappointment...their father. A man who wears a curly gray wig and Elton John sunglasses can't even find it in his busy day to perform one small act of kindess for his wife's sister. *Sob* After all I've done for you, giving you advice when you didn't even ask for it...well, no more Mister!

I hate to even mention these two. After all, I just met them. Yesterday. (not really, but it feels that way. That's the beauty of love. And the fact that we live 6 hours away. ) But still. You'd think they would want to support the new wife...traitors. Child and Nephew of Mr. Wonderful, meet the Wicked Stepmother.

This last picture pretty much sums it up... People who don't follow this blog are hineys...from the Peach state. There, I said it. And it feels goooood! As for my faithful 12 followers, as soon as I win the lottery I AM going to share it with you. I love you.