Can someone hand me a cookie?

I was somehow talked into doing this "Biggest Loser" kind of challenge at work. We all throw in $25, and whoever loses the most weight by the end of the challenge (a little over 2 months) gets to keep the loot. I'm a sucker for money, so I said what the hell.

What the hell, indeed! I haven't been a saint when it comes to eating, but I've totally changed my ways. I'm not longer a regular drive-thru customer (I miss you, McDonald's #2), and I stay away from the candy machine at work. I haven't been writing down all of my calories, but I'm very conscious of what I eat and how healthy it is.

And the gym! I've been going to the gym! Like, on a regular basis. Three to four times a week, taking a nice mix of cardio/weight classes, with the occasional pilates and yoga thrown in.

And do you know what I've lost? About 2 pounds. After 5 weeks. TWO POUNDS. I'm ready to start stealing candy from babies to eat while I lounge on the couch watching trashy reality TV. Two pounds. Are you freakin' kidding me?

I know that I'm fighting my own DNA. This body (mine, over here) was not designed to be a size 2. Not a size 2 from 1950, not a size 2 from today. I'm thick and curvy and stout and lift heavier weights than a girl my size should be able to lift. But dammit, I wanna be skinny. (Yeah, that was meant to sound whiney.)

I want to walk into a store and grab the nearest size 2 and have it slip on smooth like buttah. Without hearing any seems rip or buttons pop. I want to be svelte. And truly petite.

I also want to be able to eat Ben & Jerry's, or to have a shake at lunch, along with my actual food. Alas, that's not meant to happen. And it makes me bitter. So damn bitter. I find myself glaring at skinny girls who eat food that's got more calories than mine. "How dare she have a full sugar soda?! That skinny bitch!" Yes, it's a great attitude, I know.

No one ever said life was going to be fair, but seriously, this is just cruel. I want a cookie like nobody's business. Instead, I'm going to finish my Coke Zero, have my 90 calorie South Beach Bar snack, and go workout. Where I'll get red-faced and sweaty and out of breath, trying to beat the chubby gene. Good luck to me on that one.

Turning 29

I'm 29 today. I can no longer kid myself that I'm deeply entrenched in my 20s, because at this point, I'm so close to 30 I can smell it. And ya know what? It smells like mothballs.

Fine, I'm being dramatic. But turning 29 hasn't been full of joy. If anything, I feel like I'm already mourning my 20's and the lost opportunities. (Yes, more dramatics.) And sadly, I don't even know why.

Could be because when you're young, 29 sounds SO OLD. So far away. People who are 29 go to bed early and never eat ice cream or cereal for dinner, because they've got their middle-management job and 2.5 kids to think about. In reality, I still stay up too late every single night. Even though I'm trying to be healthier and shed a few pounds, it's not uncommon for me to have something ridiculous like ice cream (Sugar free! Low fat!) for dinner. And I'm still at the bottom of the totem pole at work, in a manner of speaking. I worked my ass off to get here, and it's a dream come true, but I still have so much farther to go. And the kids! Ha! I've got 2 dogs, 2 cats, and a Beta fish. Oh, and a boyfriend. Can't forget about him. ;)

Worse even still? I don't *really* want kids yet. Yes, I've got the baby fever. But when I start to think about what having kids means and what you have to give up (hi, everything?), I know I'm just not ready to be that unselfish. And aren't 29-year-olds supposed to be unselfish? And aren't they supposed to have a mortgage?

I'm still longingly eying pictures of New York City, wondering when and how I'll manage to move there, what kind of job I can find, how I can support myself. I feel like I've got so many goals and aspirations, and I had planned to take care of so many of those things while I was in my 20's. Granted, I did scratch quite a bit off my list. Degree? Check. Live in the city? Check. Buy own car? Check. See, it wasn't a total loss.

It just went by so fast. Some of the times I had were shittastic, so that might have been for the best, though. Here's hoping 29 turns out to be the superior year of my decade.