Excuses needed for work holiday party

I am not a competitive person.  I was that girl growing up who would hit in the back during Dodgeball hoping to get hit so I could sit down.  My office's holiday party involves a day competition.  Last year it was at Main Event with laser tag and bowling (I can handle bowling).  This year it is whirly ball and laser tag. I'm not quite sure what whirly ball is, but I know it involves tossing a ball around which only means high levels of anxiety in my book. 

I dread the holiday party.  It brings me back to those elementary school days that I am so happy to be past now.  I feel the anxiety in my chest just like I did growing up.  Our holiday party is during the work day and attendance is required.  It is a big deal.  Getting the day off is nearly impossible.  I try and think of excuses to get out of going every year and have yet to succeed.  Finding an excuse out reminded me of having to run the mile in gym class growing up.  I dreaded this day.  I was that girl who was always the last one to finish huffing and puffing as she finished her 15 minute mile.  In an effort to track how many times each student ran around the field, our gym teacher passed out Popsicle sticks with numbers on them.  It took 6 sticks to prove you had completed the mile.  I finally figured out to bring my own popsicle sticks so I could finish with the other kids. Yes, I ate the six popsicles the day before to get my sticks.  I totally got busted attempting to turn in 6 sticks still fruit stained at 8 minutes. Total elementary school humiliation!  You think I would've learned my lesson then, yet here I am thirty years old trying to find a way out. The holiday party is less than 2 weeks away, any ideas on ways out? 

Sexified Halloween costumes are something of the past

It is no secret that dressing up for Halloween gives us ladies a reason to dress sexy and provocative, or more simply put like sluts.  In my years of dressing up I did my fair share of attempting sexy costumes.  Usually I had some guy in mind I was hoping would like me once he could see how good I was at being someone else for a night (hmmm, doesn't sound so smart now).  I think my most well-known was my Brittany Spears school girl attire, complete with velvet blue bra and all.  Did Brittany actually wear a velvet bra?  I don't think so.  It was probably my way of trying to look super hot back in my college days.  After a few drinks, I did a performance of Hit Me Baby One More Time standing on the coffee table with a crowd of fellow party animals cheering me on.  Oh, I have so much to be proud of.  
Anyways, when I was 23 I started eating large pizzas for breakfast, lunch and dinner (that equals 3 pizzas a day if you are counting) and the Brittany Spears costumes were no longer an option.  

The cheese had made my thighs, hips and everything else expand.  I was officially a Big Girl. I was living in NYC at the time and Halloween is a huge night in the city.  My girlfriends spent weeks pulling together their extra sexy, barely there costumes.  I on the other hand spent one day picking out mine.  A red M & M costume.  

We hit the bars and the clubs and I looked like the odd ball out all night.  Needless to say I didn't get any male attention that night.  Now, almost ten years later and 80 pounds lighter, I have a hard time letting go of the Big Girl I once was.  I no longer seek out the sexy costume, although I could somewhat pull one off.  I still look for the big red m&m costumes to hide inside. 

Working out with hamburgers

Age: 23 

Weight:  Approximately 210 lbs

I managed to gain almost 80lbs the year after I graduated from college.  When I looked in the mirror I didn't see the weight, but then come to think of it I did my best to not look in the mirror.  I knew something was up when I turned in my button and zippers for elastic.   Comfortable, stretchy, elastic waistlines were my savior.  Family and friends would try and talk to me about the drastic change in my weight, but their attempt at intervention only made me turn to eat more.  In an attempt to be sly, my Mom got me a gym membership and ten sessions with a personal trainer.  Living in New York City at the time, this was not a cheap gift and I gladly accepted.  My office had a New York Sports Club and I signed up. 

If the gym wasn't convenient I knew I wouldn't go.  Brent was my trainer and new friend.  He was a short, muscular, black man in his late twenties.  After an hour session with Brent, I thought I was going to die.  He had the 210 lb me holding planks for 2 minutes straight, running sprints, and pushing me when I thought my muscles couldn't take anymore.  It was like a live episode of The Biggest Loser.  

Brent would push me to my limit, and attempt to motivate me while  eating a Wendy's hamburger.  Yes, that's right.  He would arrive to our session with a jumbo sized coke, french fries and cheeseburger which he would proceed to eat while he worked out my fat ass. 

With all of the sweating I did with Brent, I lost little to no weight.  I would leave the sessions thinking of where I could score my own burger on my walk home, canceling out my work-out sessions. 

Eat your cheeseburgers

My battle with weight has been going on for as long as I can remember.  As a kid, I spent a lot of time alone.  I recall going to Wendy's at age 7.  I went into Wendy's by myself with Popo waiting in the car outside.  I ordered eight hamburgers and two chicken sandwiches.  The check out clerk looked at me and questioned my order.  

"Excuse me did you say eight? 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8?" She asked. 

I agreed and handed her the money.  Little did she know, the eight cheeseburgers were just for me. 

This is my earliest memory of my love of the cheeseburger.  As an adult, I TRY to order one burger at a time.