Sean Is Fat. Always Has Been...

...always will be.

When I was 13, I knew I was fat. As it turns out, I wasn't. I was actually pretty skinny. In fact, I had a pretty nice body for a 13 year-old girl. Unfortunately I wasn't a girl, so those hips made me think I was fat. And it took me another 13 or so years for my body to finally catch up with my body image. A few more years after that, and I was truly magnificent. I was a total FAT GUY. It was awesome. I didn't want to be fat, but I also found it pretty hilarious.

As I slowly, ever so-slowly, gained weight throughout med school and residency, my brother kept making fun of my weight gain. I told him that if I ever hit 200 pounds I would go on a diet IMMEDIATELY and lose the weight.

So by the time I hit 230, even though I felt like a powerful, if winded, Giant, I knew I had to cut the shit out. So I dieted and exercised and lost 60 pounds. And then I ate EVERYTHING. And stopped exercising. So 25 or so have returned and now I have to make Sean feel bad about himself by losing it effortlessly.

See, I am a weight loss PROFESSIONAL. I lost 60 pounds very recently. I remember exactly how to do it. And this time, I just have to lose half that and I'll look like Little Bitch from BASEketball. God, so easy.

Don't get me wrong, Sean is far smarter than me in every area of knowledge and cognition. But he's a fat dude. It's in his blood. He's Welsh or something and his ancestors probably had to live in the Arctic. His body will burn bone, teeth, and hair before it burns fat. He'll get kidney stones trying to pee out his fibula, but he'll still have supple, if hairless, breasts.

What's really sad about this whole thing is that I'm gonna lose 30 pounds just by not eating a pint of ice cream before the first commercial break of each Big Brother golden veto episode. I'll still eat half a pizza for dinner (like I did today), and I'll exercise maybe 20 minutes a day on the elliptical machine (like I did today). THE ELLIPTICAL MACHINE. It's harder than sitting, but not by a lot.

Sean, on the other hand, is going to sweat and starve and have Martin-Sheen-Apocalypse-Now-Freakouts in his bedroom. Karate and crying. Every morning, he'll wake up, pee in the toilet, weigh himself, try to pee *just a bit more*, and then weigh himself again. Meanwhile, I'll forget to weight myself until my pants fall down at work.

At the end of it, Sean will still be fat.