So...maybe I was once sorta-kinda popular...and skinny.

I guess maybe I was popular in high school. Geez...saying that I was popular makes me seem like a total bitch. Please know I didn't even like writing that. I mean, who really says "I was popular"? I know who - bitches. But before you write me off as one...let me explain. It serves a purpose. I promise.

Granted, in the small town in which I grew up, pretty much everyone was popular. If you lived in town - that alone made you popular. But if being popular in high school meant being a cheerleader or being selected as a member of the homecoming royalty court, I guess I'd have to admit I'm in that category. And while I want to downplay that, I will be honest that there is part of me that was proud I was finally liked by my peers. After spending four years in hell, (3rd-6th grade...and see previous blog posts) it was nice feeling cool...even if that was only in my own mind. I attribute being popular to having quite possibly the coolest, most fun best friend ever. I was popular by association. Left alone, I'd probably still be the weirdo. 

Many people thought I was stuck up in high school. But I really wasn't...or didn't intend to be. I was actually kinda shy. Believe it or not, until I really become comfortable around someone, I am often quiet and reserved, which can often be mis-interpreted as stuck up. I don't recall ever feeling as if I was "too good" to speak or hang out with anyone. Truth be told, you were probably way cooler than me and I would have in some way benefited by hanging out with you. But keep in mind that I had the most awesome BFF and didn't really need other friends. Well...I did need other friends, but as far as finding qualities in friends such as camaraderie, loyalty, trust and late-night talks that included lots of cheese dip, stupid movies, the making of a few mixed tapes and a few Purple Passion wine coolers...well...that role had been filled. But with that said, over the years, I have obtained other very close friends and will argue with you that I have the absolute best friends in the world. My best friends could beat up your best friends. And my best friends are so awesome - their hair whips itself back and forth. Take that Willow Smith.  

No matter what anyone says, everyone takes a certain guilty pleasure when the popular, cheerleader-type high school girl grow up...and gets...fat. It's like a train wreck - you don't wanna look - you know you shouldn't look - but you just can't help with being amazed. I may not be smarter than a 5th grader - but I've gained enough weight over the last 13 years to equal a 5th grader. Not only that, but I've violated every adult stepping stone which would qualify me as "normal". Kids = 0. Marriages = 0. Houses bought = 0. Career path = unsure. Wow. I am a walking time bomb for all sorts of jokes. So, go ahead. Laugh. And while you're at it - here are some pics for your viewing pleasure. 

  1994 - 14 years old - Freshman Cheerleader


This was about the time my love affair began. With Velveeta. 

1996 - 16 years old - Prom


...and pre-hair color

1996 - 16 years old - Homecoming Royalty Court




Hey...don't make fun. Fur coats were a must for any Homecoming Royalty Princess. If I could go back in time, I'd totally rock a leather studded jacket instead. 


Oh yeah...and my hair color? Sun-In. Remember that product?

1997 - 17 years old - Junior/Senior Cheerleader



...currently re-calling a certain dance we did as a squad that may have included a stripper slap and some suggestive thrusting. Then again, if you are from my home-town, there is no need to further explain.

1998 - 18 years old - Senior Pic




Herringbone necklaces - not just for gangstas. In 1998, a senior was no senior pic without one. 


























And now...how things have changed over 13 years. 

2006 - 26 years old


Yup...that's me. Far right. (Ewww)

2007 - 27 years old - Panama City Beach




The strangers kept yelling something about "Shamu". Not real sure what that means...

2009 - 29 years old - New Orleans




Chubby girls shouldn't take pictures in front of a French donut shop. 


P.S. No, I'm not preggers. 

Christmas Day 2010 - 30 years old


I am so completely envious of people who are pear-shaped as opposed to my apple-shaped figure. Most pear shaped gals don't have so much facial fat. My fat is distributed - 50% being in my face and 50% being around my mid-section. I have the waist size of a trucker. And I totally rock a muffin top. 


...but everyone loves the top of a muffin.






Point to this story:


I can not think of a better candidate for CMT's reality show, "I Want To Look Like a High School Cheerleader Again." Because I do (insert toe touch here) like...totally...wanna look like one again.