Fuck Mii

I was recently told (by a bunch of fancy comedy ladies on a panel in Brooklyn) that you should write the moments you don’t want to write about... you know... that thing that happened that you are sensitive about or you felt humiliated living through, figure out how to write about that in a survivable way.  

So. Here it goes.

I started this blog with the idea that I would be more committed to living healthy if I had to remain accountable to an audience of readers.  Truth: I wanted to lose a couple pounds.  Thus, I started running and writing.  The writing lasted through January.  Th running until mid-March, because my life got busy. So, I stopped running.   

This was a mistake.

My mother came to visit a month ago, at which time it became clear to me that most of my lovely size 0 clothing no longer fit.  This became especially apparent during a costume fitting last week when I put on a pair of size 4 jeans, and broke down into tears.  Size Four?!??! What the fuck?!??! How is that my size?!?!?

Now, I can hear all of you saying, “Wah, wah, wah--Jacey has to wear a size four--her life is sooo hard! I have SOOOO much pity for her.”  Followed by  a tremendous eye roll and look of disgust.  

Hear me out, 'cuz there's more.

I have this Wii Fit.  If you do not know what a Wii Fit is... here ya go:

It’s a whole video game fitness thingy.  That thing in the picture is the “balance board.” You stand on it and exercise, but before you begin exercising, it weighs you.  Yup.   It shows you on a thermometey type guy where your weight falls: “underweight” “normal” “overweight” and “obese”

For as long as I’ve been Wii-ing my Mii (aka avatar), has been in the “normal” range. I must say, my Mii is super cute with blond curly hair, tiny perky lips and big brown eyes.  She always looks happy, with a full face of make-up as I control her  in various workouts from running, to boxing, to aerobic hula hooping.  

I’d been avoiding the Wii scale,  because I knew it was going to put the phrase, “I-can’t-zip-up-my-jeans” into a quantifiable entity, a number that would tell me exactly how far I was from wearing pants sans muffin top.  But ultimately, I overcame my fear and allowed the Wii to assign me a number.

I am not telling you the number. It’s too scary.  

But, I will tell you this: I got on my Wii last week and the little needle shifted ever so slightly from “normal” to “overweight,” and AND what’s worse is that the Wii CHANGED MY MII.  It shifted my avatar from cute, lean, and perky to balloon girl.  My Mii now looks way chubbier than the real me and it makes me want to punt my Mii right off the fucking screen.

This is an example of a Mii that has made the transition from "normal" to "overweight"
More depressing than  dead puppies.  True Story.

Clearly, this is a device manufactured by malnourished Japanese children in sweatshops, and I refuse to believe that my current weight and my new temporary dress size qualify me as a fatty, and frankly I feel like everyone in Japan can suck it and that all the people at Nintendo corporation should be ashamed.  That said,  seeing my chubby Mii up there every day was enough to convince me to enroll in some yoga classes and walk home from work every day.

So, due to my fat fucking Mii, chubby fucking Me is back to living healthy.  Do I still occasionally eat nutella straight off the spoon for breakfast?  Umm... yes sir, I do.  But now I do some aerobic hula hooping afterward.