Oh God, I Don't Know What to Tell You... You're a 10

Well, what I have to tell you is that I spent $223 and change on a dress that is purposely a size too small.

Today I had an early breakfast with my friend the bride. My $5.99 bride. As she ate her tiny pastry and I ate my peanut butter bagel, we discussed our experiences at the bridal shop where she asked us to order our dresses. Via phone, I spoke with a career sales lady and gave her my measurements. She "ummm"ed and "well"ed for a good minute before telling me that "I don't know what to tell you, but you're between an 8, and, well, a 10. What do you want to do about it?" To avoid a complete screaming, raging bitch-fest on the phone, I did the dumb thing, and I ordered the 8. So there is the secret behind my motivation. I was intimidated by a 45 year old sales girl in Philly. Ick.

My bride friend is sketching up a plan to make the lady apologize. (No thanks). So, in a world where I make lemonade, not lemons, I'm using this chance to get back into shape, and you know what... it's working.

Yesterday was moving trip #2. 35 trips on the stairs, loads of boxes, and today I can still walk just fine. Even better, while cleaning, I found an old magazine under my bed with an entirely new workout on it. It's from an old issue of Self Magazine and is not dated. So to still pass on some helpful advice, I searched the Self website and found a link for a comparable ab workout routine. All you need is a light set of hand weights. This is tonight's workout:

http://link.brightcove.com/services/link/bcpid1767981817/bctid1845376307

And I'm hoping that tomorrow, on my way to a smaller tighter waist, I will also continue on my journey back to the land of "Oh God, I don't know what to tell. You're between a 4 and a 6."