We went out for dinner last night.
To a restaurant that serves nothing but deep fried fish. Really really really awesome fish.
I wanted to cheat. I considered cheating. I debating emailing Jody to even admit this fact.
… And then on the way home from town I grabbed some steak, cooked my quinoa and veggies and sat outside on a picnic table eating while everyone else was inside ordering.
There is just something about that restaurant that gets to me. Way back during my second prep I was home visiting and we went there for mom’s birthday. My family had no clue about my lifestyle other than it was stricter than usual and I was competing. Not having been there in years I assumed I could get a chicken salad or something similar and be a-ok.
Not the case. I remember sneaking off to the bathroom and shedding a few tears like a giant baby who was an emotional mess. Not pretty. Most places I could find something to eat but sadly, not the case here. I thought about staying home and avoiding it, but I didn’t and I’m glad I didn’t. It was worth the family time for the bit of discomfort I felt.
It was a trade off…. one I have made before and one I know I will make several more times in the weeks leading up to November.
Thankfully when I got home and was searching around on my phone I noticed that the photos from Atlantics had been put up on the NBPFA website finally… and I got a huge laugh.
I remember standing backstage in the lineup to go on for individual presentation time and Jody telling Julie and I to slow down, take our time, enjoy it, blah blah blah. All I could think in my head was “please can we get this over with asap”. With the IDFA I’d done a t-walk, but it was always with everyone else on stage, this show had me going out all by my freaking self and I was shaking.
Practicing my posing is no big deal for me, I feel confident, content and like nothing can stop me. Put me in that bikini on stage with the lights on me and everyone looking. Yeah. Shaking in my stripper heels…. but then I see this photo and have to laugh to myself.
… who needs darker lipstick for November.
… and a new suit.
Eek. 17 and a half weeks.