The level of frustration in my house is high today.

It started early this morning when Nathan put his foot through the knee of his favorite jeans.

And its continued to now when I finished my cards for BlogHer (thanks for the moo.com idea!) and now the computer doesn’t want to recognize the site to make the order and now the card is gone. I’m not in a happy place.

But, because I want to have something to show for my work, this is what the back of my card will look like. What do you think? Is it an appropriate representation of what I am?

And now we’re off to bed. And starting fresh tomorrow!

I was having a conversation with my boss’s boss’s boss (my great-great-boss) about body image the other day.

She came to work in a really cute little brown sleeveless dress. So cute. So youthful. Just adorable.

We started talking about how we both hate our arms. About how hard it is to let them show. Even when it is seasonally and situationally appropriate.

I told her that I was practicing. Practicing wearing sleeveless things. I know my arms aren’t gross. They’re not something I’m proud of, but they aren’t gross. So I’m wearing sleeveless things just so I won’t be so self-conscious. I’ve been wearing a black tank top and brown skirt every chance I get (pretty much because there is no X on the tag). Practicing.

I started thinking about how many times I have not bought or worn something because I was self-conscious. You know, when I saw my great-great-boss, I didn’t think about her arms at all. I just thought of how cute she looked.

I bought this really cute dress a few weeks ago. But once I got it home, I hesitated. Look at my arms. I’m barely 5″4′ – I don’t need to be wearing something this long. Surely it will make me look short and dumpy. And where would I wear it anyway?

The answer? The Bluegrass Green Company and the Industrial Salvage.

So I’m not just practicing being comfortable sleeveless, I’m also practicing seeing myself how others see me.

And sometimes? I think the word is “cute.” I still need a lot of practice hearing that.

I don’t know who I am anymore. It is impossible to make me happy.

I am torn. I want to be healthy. I really do. But my heart? It still wants sugar.

We drove to Louisville today. And, ever since watching the Throwdown with Bobby Flay, I’ve been thinking about Lynn’s Paradise Cafe.

The menu looked amazing. Everything that we saw carried by us looked good. They use local ingredients whenever possible, so I was so excited. I thought about a salad. I thought about a BLT. I thought about a BLT salad. But, in the end, I turned off my brain. I saw this.

Bourbon Ball French Toast. Really? Really.

My thinking? When will I ever be here again? It looked awesome on the Food Network. It looked awesome at the table we walked by. I love the French toast at Cracker Barrel. I like everything on it. It’s been a REALLY long time since I’ve eaten something that was quality and decadent. I was content with my order.

Let me just mention that while we were waiting on our food, I reviewed the book I’m reading for Kent. Talked about how food companies manipulate us to order amounts and quality of food that are not good for us. And then we debated over if the strategy was manipulation or brilliant business tactics.

Did I forget that I had ordered something ridiculous? I do not know why I wasn’t feeling like a hypocrite at that point.

And then this came:

And I don’t know if I am more proud or frustrated with my reaction.

I was disgusted. Before I’d even taken a bite.  What the hell was I thinking? I didn’t want this. I don’t even know how many slices of French toast were covered in what tasted like creme from the middle of a doughnut, topped with chocolate, nuts and whipped cream.

How in the hell did I think that this was going to be my lunch?

I ate some of it. I tried to sneak as many bites of Nate’s BLT and Kent’s Hoppin’ Juan as I could.

A bite of the French toast was fantastic. Heaven on a fork, as Kent said. But 2 bites? No thank you. This is supposed to be a meal? What is wrong with me?

I don’t think I’ll ever want sugar again.

And, for the record? I was eating with 2 men who love to eat. I’ve seen them put away drinks, appetizers, entrees, and dessert. We shared one drink between the three of us. No appetizers or dessert. And, after I was done and the bottom-less pit men picked at it, almost half of my entree was still sitting there.

It was even too much for the foodie men in my life.

What the hell was I thinking?

I have a question for y’all.

Do your families know about your blog?

A lot of my friends know I blog, and some of them even read it. My youngest brother reads. And now, after introducing them to Fat Bridesmaid, my parents are aware that this blog is a significant part of who I am. But they don’t know where I blog.

But if they’ve looked, the would know. I mean, because of some stupid mention of my last name (even though it wasn’t near my first name), the blog shows up if you google me. My dad works with computers for a living. He’s smart. My mom knows how to search the internet. They could find me. I wonder if they have.

Still, sometimes I feel guilty for not offering up the info. But I wonder if I would write differently if I knew my Mom or Mamaw were reading. Would I be less likely to mention the amount of alcohol I consumed at Lorrie’s wedding? Would I use different language? Would I be nicer? Would this space be less like me?

After Lorrie’s wedding, I was talking to her Mom (Hi Nanette!) about how she reads Lorrie’s blog. She said that sometimes she gets worried, especially if Lorrie has had a bad day or sounds upset. And at times like that, she wishes she was closer to to her daughter. And I think that is my main concern with having my mom read my blog. I can rant sometimes. I can be dramatic. I can say some things that would make my Mom worry about me. And that’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.

So, Mom, if you’re reading? Know I’m fine. Nathan takes good care of me. We have a great time. I love my life. And I still hate cleaning the kitchen. Some things never change. Poor Nathan.

What about you? Does your mom read your blog?

Have I seriously not told you about the wedding weekend of the century?

Bad, bad Krissie.

So let me tell you all about Lorrie‘s wedding…

Nathan and I met FatBridesmaid back home in Greenup at the end of the dam(n) bridge. We spent our time waiting playing car softball. Nice new game. I’d give details, but we may patent it.

Then we went back to my parents’ house, hung out with my bestest pal Jen and my parents, watched scary shows, told embarrassing Krissie and Jenifer stories, and stayed up until WAY past our bedtimes.

Saturday was the drive to Virginia, complete with a stop at the Tamarack and this Dairy Queen that had the smallest restrooms ever. Don’t worry – we didn’t eat anything there.

(“I could PEE at a Dairy Queen!” Not so much at Tickles or…the other place.)

We got to the hotel just in time to get some lunch and get ready for the wedding. Our hotel suite was amazing. We really loved Hotel Floyd. (And I was mocked for taking so many pictures of the soap. I thought it was fun, okay?)

The wedding was beautiful. That’s all I can say. Very few dry eyes.

I realize it wasn’t my day, but how cute are we?

We wasted a little time between the wedding and the reception at the Floyd General Store.

And then the reception started. Fat Bridesmaid said it best when we were discussing the probability of a reception lasting from 4:30 until midnight. She said, “Maybe it will be a long, slow burn.” Dude. She was totally right. The food was great, the cake was soft and sweet, the drinks were smooth and flowing. It was a great night.

The interesting thing was how we were referred to as the “blog girls.” We were called out on the dance floor by that title. Bridesmaids (and moms!) know us from our blogs. It was kinda strange at first, but it felt normal by night’s end.

The reason I loved the party was the casualness of it all. I’ve never been to a wedding where we just sat around and chatted with everybody, including the bridesmaids and the bride. We got to spend quite a lot of time goofing around with Lorrie. I mean, how often are you 8 hours from home and find yourself talking about hometown celebrities like Mr. Cartoon and Tim Irr?

The drive home was actually uneventful, and didn’t seem as long as I thought it would. I can’t wait for BlogHer to spend a whole weekend with both of these awesome girls!

Lorrie – Thanks SO MUCH for letting us crash your wedding. It was absolutely beautiful and moving. I felt totally at home. Your friends and family were so welcoming and felt like old friends. I am so happy for you and Josh and I can’t wait to watch your life together.

I love weddings!

Alright, Krissie. Let’s get it together.

I’ve not been doing a good job with the weight loss thing lately. I’ve only been doing it like 25%. I haven’t exercised or kept a food journal in probably 2 weeks. The good news? I went back to Weight Watchers and stayed the same.

I realize that I am very lucky to not have a gain. And today starts Phase 2 – On to BlogHer!

Pretty simple:

Okay, now one you can actually read…

• Food pics and record in Lose It app
• 30 (of 31) Day Shred (I’m giving myself the day of the Cincy meetup off)
• Additional exercise (BL yoga/bootcamp, pilates) 5 times per week
• Straighten hair every day – it’s good for my routine
• No eating lunch out
• No frozen yogurt

Hang on. I’m serious again. And we all know how much damage I can do when that happens…