Disclaimer: Please resist any and all urges to remove your earrings, scream “oh, hail no” and challenge me to a recovering-chunky-butt throw down in the Krispy Kreme parking lot. You need not worry that the purpose of this post is to deny the MizHotAss MizFit her well-deserved throne of Awesomeness. Let it reign, sistah.
If Carla and I were standing right up next to each other, even the well trained eye *might* have a hard time telling us apart. But I swear on all things chocolate with sprinkles, there *are* differences.
Here are a few hints: I’m the one with short hair. The only art on my right leg is a unique combination of textural cellulite and razor omissions, and oh yeah cuz I almost forgot, I weigh 244 pounds. Other than that? Like MaryKate and Ashley, baby.
But even with all things equal on the outside, there are other differences that separate us. Lots of women weigh as much as a baby hippo, especially here in Indiana. I’m one of them. And in general, there’s just something soulful about the way us gluttony-gifted gals embrace life against our squishy bosoms.
But despite her single-digit body fat percentage, Mizfitit *totally* has the spirit of a fat chick. And every ounce of her glowing spirit is committed to making the world a better place for her daughter and anyone else who breathes.
Particularly those of us with vaginas. Not only does she pump the iron? She talks the talk, walks the walk, and does it all the live long day with super shiny beautiful hair. And a contagious smile. And a tutu.
Sorry Carla, you’re a *total* fail at that whole beauty-is-only-skin-deep thing. For a woman whose branding motto is, “because fitness isn’t about fitting in,” this woman sure has fit her everly-toned arse into the holy mother of all things everly-where: Hungry Girl, Glamour, Women’s Day, Fila, Entrepreneur.com, and on and on.
If Carla’s social media presence was a high school girl, it’d have more STDs than my badonkadonk has dimples. Word. And the best part? Everything she’s learned is there for the sharing. She’s like a blogging/exercising/branding bottomless pint of Ben and Jerry’s, ya know?
And finally, if a bunch of ubercooltastic bloggers were on a big plane and the cabin pressure dropped and all those duck-bill marionettes masks dropped from the overhead bins?
Carla would be the first one to put hers on cuz she *totally* gets how we maximize our ability to help others by taking care of ourselves first. This act of selfish-selflessness is something that I get, but only conceptually. I end up rationalizing away my time to exercise, sleep, attend blog conferences, cook, read, shop, write, and/or get my nookie on 84.7% of the time (It’s kinda technical, m’kay?).
For the record, if that whole airplane trip ends up happening for realz, I am *so* volunteering to play fight attendant and pass out nuts. Carla, I really hope you take all of this with the mushy, undermedicated madness in which it was intended; if God had created me queer? I’d have myself one helluva crush. You inspire others to become their own super hero. And for those of us still still developing our powers? You’ll do just fine.
Kirsten blogs over at Results-Not-Typical-Girl.com. A reviewer for her blog on Amazon’s Kindle wrote, “a daily foray into RNTG’s life is now my favorite indulgence – the posts are completely real, often thought-provoking, occasionally twisted, sometimes heartbreaking, always hilarious. I’ve never even met Kirsten, yet I feel this bizarre impulse to invite her to parties and/or add her to my Christmas list.” Mazel Tov.