25

No, silly, that's not my age. It's my weightloss. Yep, 25 pounds. I am now officially out of the fat jeans. Back to my regular size, but not down to my skinny jeans. I have so many kinds of clothing it's not even funny. I even got rid of all my fat clothes last time I lost weight (thanks for that tip, Dr. Phil, you bastard) and then I had to buy a whole bunch of clothes when my pants stopped fitting. I'm pretty sure it was the wash that did me in. Stupid shrinking clothes.

So now I'm down 25 pounds and I have to say, I'm feeling fine. I'm at the stage where I feel like I need to take the next step and do some serious sculpting classes or spinning to get the little jiggles down in various places. Not sure I can get motivated to do that, but at some point the gym will become boring and I'll need a new incentive.

All the cooking, and chopping and baking and cleaning and general running around I'm doing seems to help. I feel busier than ever and I'm not sure why. It's been crazy this fall. I get a stomach ache just thinking about it. Or maybe it's the Chicken Curry I have cooking in the crockpot. It's making me hungry. Going to enjoy a lunch of curry, basmati rice and Tandoori Gobbi (cauliflower) with my girls, our weekly get together. Hmmmm, curry...