Letting It All Hang Out... for Granola

Granola Worth a Moon

I know I owe you the rest of the poo story, it's coming, I promise :)

I had to jump in and interject something that just happened to me less than 30 minutes ago.  I think it is worth it to share and interrupt the poo story's progression thus far.  Hopefully you will agree with me once the tale is told.

This is em-bare-assing.  Pun totally intended.

Like all stories, we must back track a bit and fill you in on a little back story.

Earlier this last summer I started noticing that I was a fatass, I mean I knew I had put on some pounds over the few years, what with working with food and all.  But I did not bother to put said fatass on a scale.  So come late November I purchased a crappy scale and got on it.

GAD ZUKES!
Surely the crappy scale was lying to me!  I calibrated it, got on it again.  And again.  And Again. Either that was a really crappy lying scale or I truely was a tub of lard.  I was F-A-T!!!!

I knew that dieting through the Holidays would be like herding cats, so I decided to do what everyone does and do the whole New Year/New Start.  Along with the help of my Better Half, my good friend Denice and even my Mom I had rallied a gang of support to help me get my fat ass into the gym that I had been paying for for the past 3 years and just not going to.

Once I spent a week in the gym, I talked to a trainer there and decided to give some professional sessions a try out.  I bought some multivitamins, protein bars, new shoes, a spiffy new workout jacket and measured out every single snack and meal portion I would eat each week.

After busting my hump with working out 3+ times a week for 3 hours each day plus eating the way I was supposed to eat, 2 1/2 weeks later I lost 17 pounds of nasty flab.  A couple inches from each of my measurement areas disappeared as well.  Even Ras lost weight, because being the sweet man that he is he decided to do the diet part with me... he has been so good to me!  I decided if I was going to do this, I was going to do it hardcore or not at all.  And so I went into this whole thing with no cheating on the diet and working my ass off in the gym.  Fat is EASY to put on yourself, but hard as hell to get it off.  Through all of this I have decided to change my lifestyle to revolve around one that involves a healthier and more shapely person.

Now during all this weight loss I have not gone out and bought any new clothes.  My comfy pants are still comfy, just a bit more baggy than usual.  My t-shirts don't stretch tight like a fat Hooter's girl shirt anymore, my socks are well... my socks and I usually go "commando" in the underpants department, unless it's like a social situation... but at home it's free-ballin' time (If that is even possible, I wish there was a term for women who free-ball).  I'm actually kind of liking the whole thing of having clothes that are loose and baggy that were once stretching to their limits, it feels like progress when I wear them.

Progress and feeling good, that is until today.
So I have a really sore throat today, like I have no voice at all (Ras is loving it).  Today is one of our monthly Seattle iStocker Microlypses and we were all meeting in Ballard.  So I told Ras that I'd drop him off to hang out with everyone and told him to give everyone my hugs, kisses and love, but that due to my throat and my inability to have a conversation I was not feeling social.  Which bummed me out because I have been looking forward to this get together for a couple weeks now.  oh well, you win some and you lose some.  I hope they are all having fun though.

So after dropping him off at Cupcake Royale to meet the others and blowing kisses to FreeTransform and JensenPhoto who I saw standing outside, I decided to head up to the store to get some granola, european style whole grain bread and fresh fruits.  The store I usualy go to (the same store from the Grumpy Old Crotch story), I go there when it is late night during the weekday.  It's always busy in that place, but it is less busy later in the evening.  Well, it is Saturday and it is about 2:30pm when I show up there and the place is freakin' packed!  Oh joy.  Okay I know what I want so I make the plan in my head to get in there and get the hell out.

The best laid plans.... need a BELT!
So I am walking through the store and the pants that I am wearing I bought when I was at the peak of my ginormousness.  I have to keep tugging them back up as I am walking through the store.  Every time I reach for something the stupid things slither down my hips a little.  Now in my head I am flashing back to Ras telling me this morning when I was bitching about these very pants saying to me:
"Maybe you should wear your belt"
I, being a dumbass, explained to him that when I wear a belt with these pants they bunch of in the front and I look like I am packing a whopping set of cock'n'balls, because they balloon up funny in the front where the zipper is.  Ras shrugged it off and that was that.  Thankfully I had the foresight to grab a thong, one with pretty purple flowers on it, and put it on... it was cold out today and these pants are breezy.

So now I am in this store, there are about 13 or 14 old ladies, mothers and an octogenarian complete with his portable tank milling about the cereal section.  I spy what I want, which is this granola they have sitting out on the display table.  In order for me to get to it, I had to reach way across some muffins and other breakfast bread items in front of the granola.  So I put the hand that I've been using to tug my pants up as I walk on the table for support and I reached across with the other hand to grab the container of granola.

As I straighten myself up from my reaching, stretching, groping position.... that is when the worst thing that could possibly happen... happens.

Down go the pants.  Not just a little past my hips, my friends.  All the way to my knees down.
I am standing there, with my ass hanging out, literally.  And I can't seem to register what has happened fast enough, it seems to me like at least 5 seconds go by before I realize the magnitude of the situation I am currently in.  Exposing my pretty purple flowers and asscheeks to the breakfast breads and the umpteen seniors, mothers and that poor octogenarian all within view.

I'm mortified, and I go to exclaim my mortification out loud and I say "Oh shit!" but all that comes out of my throat is this little harsh forced whisper of a voice.  I toss the granola in the cart and I yank my pants up as fast as I can.

No one says anything.  No laughter, no smirks, no shrieks of terror.  In fact, the second they fell, everyone within view froze in place and just stared.  I glanced over every face that was turned my direction, every face wore a look mixed with sympathy, shock and horror.

Did I mention that I was absolutely mortified?

So I checked out and left, eyes to the floor without uttering a word to anyone, face still burning bright red. 
I got in the car and I called Ras and he said "Probably should have wore your belt, huh?"

Thought you guys and gals might enjoy this little mishap.
These pants... they are going to a clothing drive ASAP!