I don’t look like Barbie. I don’t even look like Barbie’s pudgy sister, if she had one. But this summer a few things have been occurring that didn’t happen to me 59 pounds ago.
At my hometown fair, a random (but cute) guy approached me out of the blue and asked for my number. I’m pretty sure this has never happened in the entire History of Lisa. Ever.
I often go for walks over my lunch break just to get out of the office and earn the odd Activity Point or two. Recently, strange guys have been speaking to me on the sidewalk. I’d just chalk this up to Minnesota Nice (even though I’m in Wisconsin, we’re so close to Minnesota we might as well scribble over “America’s Dairyland” and plaster “Land of 10,000 Lakes” on our license plates instead), but once again, this didn’t happen to me before.
I’m split on how to feel about it. Split a few ways, actually.
1) I like to call this feeling “Squealing Teenage Girl.” I mean hey, who isn’t flattered by things like this? Like, OMG, a cuuuuuuuute guy just talked to ME!
2) Feeling #2 involves strong urges to run the other way and find the nearest ladies’ restroom to hide in. Maybe it’s just the utter newness of it, and I’m just not used to it, but it freaks me out just a little.
3) The last feeling is a tad more serious. I have to think, where were these guys when I weighed 247 pounds? Am I a different person now, or something? I don’t think I’ve undergone a radical personality transplant.
It all leaves a bit of a bitter taste in my mouth regarding attention from guys right now. So for now, I’ll stick to focusing on me instead of my date calendar.