Spanx Make My Thighs Sad

Sometimes I want to punch the inventors of silk in the face. Why would anyone create such an unforgiving fabric? Those extra 2 ounces I put on from the Christmas cookie are clearly visible on the lower left side of my back bulge, which is unacceptable as one of the bridesmaids of the stupid beautiful bridal party I was included in several weeks ago. 

It’s like People magazine vomited on this wedding party. Since I am anti-diets, I traded a few cheeseburgers prior to the big day for a salad or two and crossed my fingers that the dress would zip up. But as I sat pinching the unwanted bumps in my dress, I decided it was time for reinforcements. It’s time to bring in the Spanx.

Spanx form an impenetrable fortress of the fat blocking kind. It’s like creating a tiny prison for your chubby parts. Not tonight, Back Fat, you are going to have to stay put. I would much rather not be able to breathe…or sit down….or eat…or laugh comfortably, than have you make an appearance tonight.

I’m starting to sympathize with the bra-burning hippie feminists.

Spanx may be the least attractive thing ever created, strangely enough, to make you appear more attractive. This enigmatic product is the bane of my existence.

Curse you, Spanx. Curse you and your uncomfortable fabric that looks like my grandma’s unmentionables.

When we get right down to the meat of the matter, Spanx will only become more prevalent in my life as I age and one day have children (those little guys pretty much ruin your ability to ever wear silk…or a size 4…ever again).

I feel for all of the husbands who have ever seen their wives in Spanx. That has to scar someone. It’s like watching a hotdog get made….you may never again eat at a backyard BBQ. But, how do you avoid the situation?

Here are a couple of options:

1. Install a Clap Off light system in my room, so I can clap off before the hypothetical husband sees me in the anti-libido contraption of doom. Then ensure that nowhere in our frisky encounter do I see that need to give us applause. (No promises on this one. Give credit where credit is due. If the man deserves a handclap of praise (not to be confused with those really weird handclaps at church) then he will get one))  
2. Make punching my husband in the face to induce temporary blindness a typical part of our foreplay, thus giving me a few seconds to slip—read: wrestle my way out of—the Spanx, while he will be none the wiser…and more turned on than when we started.
3. Become a nun. Simple, yet effective.
4. Lose weight and be happy with my body……pfffff yeah right
5. Find Harry Potter and figure out how to steal his magic so I can cast a spell that make me appear lean and fit and bump free.

Clearly, #5 is the way to go.

So, Are You Dating Anyone?

What do Christmas and your Singles Ministry have in common?

If you thought it was Jesus….you’re wrong. C’mon Sunday School answer, think outside of the box. Just because church is involved doesn’t mean the answer is always Jesus, sometimes it’s God, or Holy Spirit…..or Nebuchadnezzar.

The answer: They’re always getting in your business trying to play matchmaker. 

Like many a sardonic single has stated, Christmas makes solitude glaringly apparent. As friends and family members depart to spend time with their ‘other’ side of the family, and each start frantically searching for a gift that truly represents their unabashed love for their lobster (read: soulmate…whatever that means), the wary single prepares for the storm of loneliness that may or may not come knocking on their door sometime between Christmas and New Year’s Eve.

 Even if you can buck up and make it past the need to stroll hand-in-hand while looking at the Christmas lights, the lack of snogging when the ball drops is sure to elicit some desire to have the opposite sex around…unless it’s that really creepy guy who has been eyeing you all night (which there always is one), in which case my only response is: You’re better than that. Don’t stoop. I promise it won’t be worth it. Just grab another glass of champagne from your friends who are otherwise occupied with their dates and give yourself a toast because you would much rather be that girl who double-fisted Brute all night, then that girl who took a desperate dive into the face of someone’s awkward cousin who was visiting from Kansas for the weekend.

The first question out of the mouths of my aunts, cousins and the women at church are all the same. It is like the married woman mantra: So, are you dating anyone? Apparently, answering that you are really focused on your career right now translates into something along the lines of “I can’t find anyone who will go on a second date with me and all I really want to do is get married, but I’m incapable of sealing the deal”, which is strange because I thought it meant “I’m focusing on my career right now”. Good news: When you say “I do”, you also learn how to read minds. Marriage is magic. 

Half of society is telling me to settle down now, because I’m only getting older, but the other half is telling me I’m still young and need to live life. Interestingly, the Christian crowd is of the former persuasion. 

Somehow Christianity has become synonymous with a married lifestyle, which is strange considering how the writers of our handbook were single and loving it. I’m pretty sure the disciples never sat down and were like look, Bro, I love that you are out spreading the gospel and whatnot…but what I’m really concerned about is your dating life. Are you sure you want to be focusing on your career right now? You should probably find someone to settle down with. After all, you aren’t getting any younger, and your robe is starting to fit a little snug around the waist. I’m just saying. 

Now before all you domestic lovin’ ladies get all up in my kool-aid, I’m going to need you to hear me out. In no way am I saying the marriage is not a good thing, I’m sure it’s great, but it is not, and cannot, be my sole —or soul’s— goal in life.  We were created for more. 

As I beat back the desires brought by singlehood during this season, I want to remember the reason I am celebrating in the first place. (Cue lame Christmas clichés: Jesus is the Reason for the Season, HOLYday, ect.) If you find yourself in that place of longing, dwell on the words of Song of Solomon:

 ⁷ Oh, let me warn you, sisters in Jerusalem,
   by the gazelles, yes, by all the wild deer:
Don't excite love, don't stir it up,
   until the time is ripe—and you're ready.

                                                The Message

We have to stop forcing ourselves to be ready because it feels like you failed if you aren’t.