When it comes to my weight, I call fuzzy math.

by Brittany on November 6, 2010

in Self & Body

Andy is ignoring me.

I am TRYING to ask him if I look like the chubby one from Facts of Life when I wear a bathing suit. 

But he isn’t responding to my gchat from the bedroom.

Andy LOVES when I play the Am I as Fat as This Person!? game.

Second only to the Swear to Fucking God You’ll Tell Me if I Get as Big as That Guy Over There game.

And the OMG Does This Bra Give Me Back Fat game.

Oh, and the Boys, You Need to Wait Outside Because We are Having a Super Secret Closed Door Meeting with Santa About Next Year’s Presents game.

Except he actually does like that game, because it means we get to do it. With almost all our clothes off. It depends on how many lights are on and how skinny I am feeling that day.

It’s just, some days I need to feel pretty. Andy hates those days.

Me: Name 3 celebrities who are prettier than me.

Andy: Please don’t call me at work about this stuff anymore.

Me: So….there are too many to list?

Andy: There are none to list, now seriously, I have to go fix a problem.

Me: Well, what about my friends. Which of my friends are prettier than me?

Andy: *Sigh*

Me: If you love me, you will be honest with me. I just want to know who you are going to try to have sex after I die.

Andy: Why are you dying?

Me: Why does anything die, Andy? Nobody knows. It’s like solar eclipses.

Andy: Actually it’s not. Most things die based on some kind of scientific reason. And, I think you misunderstand what a solar eclipse is.

Me: I feel like you are stalling.

Andy: *groan* I really have to fix something here.

Me: …

Andy: None of them. None of them are prettier than you. In fact, I feel bad for your friends when you are around them, because you are CLEARLY the prettiest.

Me: That was kinda harsh.

Andy: Alright, I gotta go.

Me: You should have married my second prettiest friend, so after they die, you could have sex with me. That’s a no brainer, Andy.

Andy: Why do we have to have sex with eachother’s friends after we die? Why can’t we just be celibate and mourn the loss of each other for a few years.

Me: You live in a fairytale, Andy.

Andy: Let’s talk about it when I get home, I have work I need to do.

Me: I hope I don’t die before then.


Me: Mark. By the way. I would sleep with Mark.

Andy: Noted.

Me: Ok, now go fix the robots, so they don’t malfunction and start feeling human emotion and murder everyone.

Andy: The robots build cars, and they don’t look like people. Do you even know what I do for a living?

Me: Are you saying my job doesn’t matter? Why are you selfish 90% of the time?

Andy: That sounds like fuzzy math.

Me: Don’t use Republican jargon on me.

Andy: Anddddd you’re not making sense.

Me: Your FACE isn’t making sense.

Everybody knows you are allowed to sleep with one of your spouse’s friends after they die.

It’s why we have wills.

Chrystal November 17, 2010 at 2:13 pm

As usual, a classic. I loved it the first time, too. Nicely done….lol.

Estrella November 18, 2010 at 12:38 pm

This reminds me of the doppelganger booty gang I play with my husband. I call it a game, but really , it’s not all that fun for either one of us. Basically, like most of you out there, I go through waves. There are the lows where nothing fits and I feel like a fat turd and then the highs, where the gods were aligned, my bangs are just right, and the jelly roll is tucked oh so nicely into my jeans. So, the game:

Me: Babe, is that what I look like?
The hub: um…
Me: Because I really can’t tell, you know. I think my boobs are bigger (NOT a bonus on my 5’1″ frame) but I’ve got a sweeter ass.
The hub: ——-

Basically, the game’s a little one sided because the hub refuses to play. But the idea is this: I have no sense of what I look like to the world. I know that inside I feel worlds different from day to day, (and sometimes hour to hour) but that’s probably not the reality. I’m sure there’s a basic ME shape that my friends and family conjure up when I come to mind. So what is it?! When the hub and I are out and about, sometimes I can become a bit of a stalker, looking for my ass twin. Only, I have no idea who my ass twin is, because I can’t see my own ass walking down the street! But I do think that, like most women, I imagine myself as fatter, frumpier, hairier and frizzier, than I really am. I mean, the hub thinks I’m hot, so maybe I am! Only I wish I could see it too. So I keep searching for the twin, hoping that one day the hub will say, oh, that lady has a similar body (because even though he hates the game, he knows how much I want to know), and I’ll smile and think AWESOME and not get depressed. Or jealous.

daisy May 17, 2011 at 7:42 am

this is me, totally.

but i really think i want to know.

i probably don’t though.

Meg November 19, 2010 at 3:01 pm

Haha! Oh my. Love it.

Sara December 8, 2010 at 2:57 pm

This is amazing. That is all :)

Shannon January 23, 2011 at 12:54 am

Hey….I try to play this game with my husband all the time…a game he feels is in his best interest NOT to play. *L*

Drea February 18, 2011 at 11:29 am

I played this once with an ex and he totally copped to having a thing for not one, but TWO of my girlfriends. I moved on to a much smarter man, and decided I wouldn’t ask questions I didn’t want answers to for a long time :)

Tawny March 9, 2011 at 5:16 pm

I laughed so hard at your conversation with Andy because that is exactly the type of conversation I have with my husband when I feel as if nothing looks good on me, my hair can’t be tamed, and there is no make up in the world that could ever cover the red in my face. Thank you for making me smile!

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