There were more fireworks on the lake tonight for people who wanted to casually weekend celebrate the inconvenient mid week day of independence the rest of us suffered through last wednesday. This means that for the second time in 3 days I felt obliged to drag out the s'mores basket to lavish folks from 11 (Josh) to 72 (my oldest guest) and allow them to joyously indulge themselves.
Have I ever mentioned what a superior marshmallow roaster I am? Given a reasonable fire I can turn most marshmallows into a crunchy melted brown speckled experience of pure sweetness perfection. There for it is with great pleasure that I end up toasting a lot of marshmallows during bon fires. I did not take a single sneaky little nibble of a single marshmallow on either night. I roasted many. I think I deserve to lose 5 pounds tonight because of my commendable resolve.
By the way, here I am almost two weeks through this mostly but not exclusively juicing torture and I am still fat. Who would have thought? Not sure how that is even possible.
But seriously, I wish my new 2012 fat pants (Yup, I had to buy a size up) were even bigger on me than they are. Truth is, they aren't even satisfactorily big yet. I'd like to be able to remove them without unbuttoning them. Then I will be so happy.
The one place I can really see progress is my back. Not my jelly belly or my face, just my back. I guess the back is better than nowhere. Anywhere is better than nowhere, they say.