Awww, here goes.

I'm no good at dieting.

And by "I'm no good at dieting", I mean "I've never really tried dieting."

I can't help it! I'm a lover of life, a lover of myself. I'm young. I love my big, fat ass and the huge boobs that are an incidental perk of the whole being a fat chick thing.

But here's the deal, y'all: I'm unhealthy. I've reached this conclusion, finally, after years and years of doctors ham-handedly trying to politely tell me how fat I am. Struggling up stairs instead of walking up them. My jeans wearing out at the upper, inner thigh because my legs rub together when I walk. Gross? You bet. So why haven't I wanted to do anything about this until now?

I don't know. Laziness definitely has something to do with it. Insecurity probably moreso. I want very much to be able to say it's because I'm so secure with myself and my body that I just don't care how it looks or how people view me, but that sure as hell ain't the case. I'm dreadfully self-conscious when it comes to my body image. I don't hate myself. I love myself. And because I love myself, I've decided that I'm going to do myself a favor and finally, after 21 years of being a fat chick, I'm going to lose the weight.

This blog, I hope, will serve to keep me on track and keep me motivated, for you see, Dear Reader, I have a goal. I have a few goals.

Goal #1 (aka The Big One): By this day exactly one year from now, I will lose 100 lbs.

If that seems excessive, let me put it into perspective for you: Right now, I am almost 100 lbs heavier than my heaviest friend. Luckily, I don't look that heavy (I'm pretty sure that all of that weight has been making its home in my tits, but who knows), but the number is pretty devastating.

But it isn't about numbers. It isn't about poundage or muscle mass or body fat content. It's about my health and my happiness. This leads me to my next goal.

Goal #2: Be happy.

Sound reasonable? I think so. So here goes nothing.