I wonder if she can tell that I've gained weight

So many things run through my head when I encounter someone I know whom I haven't seen in a long time: 1. I know I know this person, please let their name come to me soon; 2. Oh my God, am I wearing makeup?; 3. Oh man, look how fat I am. Wonder if they can tell...

That last thought is, for me, the thing that will play through my mind the longest, or until I lose weight and see that person again. I've handled this same situation in so many different ways. Today I was stuck in line at Subway, so there was no running and pretending that I didn't see her. Fortunately, I handled the situation in a grownup kind of way. The woman is a PhD so I'm sure she noticed the significant size of my butt.... Oh well, what to do?

There was the time at Wal-Mart where I turned a corner and noticed an ex-boyfriend. Like any 30-something who was mortified, I acted like I didn't know him and continued walking. Did I mention that I was mortified? And the thing that is so insane about that situation is the ex-boyfriend is such an idiot (who I still can't believe that I wasted my time on) and I shouldn't even care what he thinks of my fat butt. Stupid me.... I would so scold any of my sisters if a similar thought or concern crossed their mind.

Geesh.... I still cringe when I think of all the times that I've run into people that I know and wonder if they notice how fat I've gotten. Like they were all visually impaired to the extent that they don't notice fat people. .... Gahh, wouldn't that be nice?

Douche is never the answer

Standing behind a 20-something girl at Walgreen's tonight, I had to cross my legs in order to stop myself from giving her some advice. Yeah, I had to cross my legs just to keep my mouth shut. I had to remind myself that everyone doesn't care to hear my opinion. Never mind the fact that she was buying douche, and I have been told by my ob-gyn that douching is not good for a woman's insides. Thus, no douche goes past this gushy-gushy. Know what I mean, Vern? I kept quite and let ol' girl buy her douche. All I could think about, after getting past not saying anything, was I wonder why she needs douche. Is her gushy-gushy dirty-dirty? Is she getting it ready for a visitor? Eeeewwwww...... Right? All this while waiting in line to buy some anti-aging facial cleanser. Not that I think that the anti-aging part of the cleanser is going to stop the appearance of aging on my face, but just in case. Kind of like this man I know who is an Atheist but got his children Baptized just in case (his words, not mine). I managed to exit Walgreen's with my goods and without blabbering on about anything douche-related. Fortunately, the check-out girl didn't ask me how my day was going. Had she, I'm sure I would have felt obligated to give her a little too much information about my day when all the while she probably couldn't care less. After all, she was just being polite. That's another problem I have - I give way too much information. I'm not sure where this obligation is rooted. Why can't I just keep my trap shut? I see a project on my horizon.