Have You Hugged Your MILF Today?

Lovely comments abound from men of a certain age (older than 35?) admitting that they like their women with a little meat on them. What sweet, sweet music to my ears.

You see I have no aspirations of being rail thin. I'd be happy for "in shape." Pursuing heroin chic for me would be like searching for the end of a rainbow. I was blessed with curves, that for once in my life, I actually don't want to lose completely. I'm happy to look like a woman. Though yet another cruel joke of nature is that some of those "curves" tend to be the first things to disappear when I do lose weight. And that's sad, because I've loved reading those Ds on the bra tags for the first time in my life.

Anyway, I had a good week. Ate healthy. Stuck to my plan. No snacks. No sugar.

I'll be hopping of the wagon for a brief time at the end of next week, because no one can really expect me to go to New Orleans and not enjoy the best part about the city--THE INCREDIBLE FOOD.

Did I mention I'm going to New Orleans next week?! I'm going to New Orleans next weekend for a long weekend!

I am so excited! Went to school there. Haven't been back for years. This will be the first trip there together for me and Shakey. The first time we've gone away alone with each other in seven (yes, I said SEVEN) years. Cue Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get it On." Oh yeah, and there will be basketball--first and second round of the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament.

New Orleans, basketball, food and sex...don't hate me!

Diet? What Diet?

I can't wait to tell you about the amazing day I had yesterday, but I owe my fellow future MILFs an update, so here it goes.

• You know what I had for dessert tonight? Girl Scout cookies.
• You know what happened to my diet last week? A conference. Think lots of mojitos.
• You know the liklihood I'm getting on the scale today? Zilch.

But Shakey still thinks I got it going on (bow chicka bow wow) so I'm not sweating the setback.

Hope your week was more successful than mine (on the diet front that is)!

Dreams of MILFdom

It's been a while since I've provided an update, and there is a reason for that. There's really no update to be had.

And so I have a confession to make.

I self-medicate...WITH FOOD!

Something goes wrong and I think it's an excuse to eat. You get sick, "oh you deserve to treat yourself if since you're suffering." Someone hurts your feelings, "my heart is broken...chocolate will help." You're pissed off, "Screw it...I can eat whatever I want."

You think I have a problem?

No kidding!!

I'm often reminded of that episode of Friends when Phoebe's boyfriend reminds Monica that food doesn't equal love.

I totally know how that feels though. When things seem out of control I eat as revenge. It's like I figure other people might be making decisions for me that I don't like, but dammit I'll show them and eat whatever the hell I want. Why do I not desire to take out that anger in the form of exercise?! I'd be a freakin' babe!

Okay, the more I write here, the more I think it's time to call up that shrink in Beverly Hills...

The first step is acknowledging the issue right?

I am committed to future MILFdom. I know Iive got a MILF inside me. I just need to shed the fat girl suit she seems to be wrapping herself in right now.

I'm grateful for the weekly reminder to get back in the game. And I promise to report progress soon...but it would be a lot easier if carbs didn't taste SO good.