So I saw my dad for the first time in about 3 months today - in the middle of a sentence he interrupts me and goes, Jen, have you lost weight? Yes dad. How much? Um, between 25 and 30 lbs. Are you *dieting*? (disgusted tone of voice) - well, I'm just eating like a normal person should and exercising...nothing extreme. Oh, okay, are you done losing now? I still have to lose like 30 more lbs, dad - WHAT WHY? Cause I'm still overweight...well don't do anything crazy!
My father cracks me up. He's the most awkward person in the world (alright, exaggeration) but he worries about me. My mom always told me I needed to lose weight, even when I didn't, and when I starved myself in high school, he was the one to notice. At 23 he was like oh, don't worry, you just have baby fat. And now he's worried I'm starving myself again. After this exchange, my sister was like, Dad, don't worry, she just ate half of the cheesecake that I made (I didn't eat HALF I had a little friggin sliver, BTW).
Every once in a while, its nice to be worried about.
On a better note - my cousin gave me all of these designer jeans/pants that don't fit her anymore that she says should fit me - I just had myself a lovely dinner of chinese food so I'm going to wait until TOMORROW to try them on.


