I often wonder how much collective weight we’ve put on as a year. Between this time last year and now I’d say we’ve easily made up for the girls we lost to the Institute by the pounds we’ve gained. Maybe we can tell ourselves it was because of a sense of loss that we ate and ate and ate and expanded to fill the gaps they left in the common room. All this might make us feel better, but still don’t make up for the fact that my hips have gotten so large that they may now may qualify for sitting a Leaving Cert paper of their own.
The third and fourth years are concerned with looking skinny for Wezz, cutting down on carbs, using Lent as a thinly veiled excuse to deprive themselves of chocolate in the hopes that the boys from the local school will notice them. We sixth years on the other hand, cannot be kept from gorging. Conversation has now turned from whether Atkins is superior to South Beach to comparing the most delicious microwaveable meal for after school study (I can wholeheartedly recommend the Cully and Sully chicken and pasta bake). The poor 1st years were almost trampled on Tuesday when Group 1 Honours Maths had our we-finally-finished-the-maths-course-yay! party as we ran to the classroom for pizza.
I was in denial that I was carrying The Sixth Year Baby-those extra few pounds we all have in common-until I tried on two dresses for the Trinity Ball tomorrow- surely two different dresses couldn’t be so unflattering? Apparently the problem is not with the dresses; the sixth year baby has crept up on me, leaving a trail of empty soup cartons, Kinder Bueno wrappers and cans in its wake. Our reputation for being complete and utter Fatties has gotten such that the fourth years who run the school shop hardly looked surprised when I bought 10 Mr. Freezes last week (they were for sharing I swear)
If it were just me waddling through the corridors I would feel self conscious, but fortunately the slight jiggling when we move is a sign of solidarity among the year. No one person looks particularly lumpy, because as were all in this together everyone has steadily growing outwards at the same rate as everyone else, so it’s all in proportion. As we waddle up the aisle to be given our class rings at graduation next week nobody will notice the thighs that jiggle slightly more than usual, or the bum that rocks from side to side, all they will notice is the joy that it’s almost all over.
You got pizza for finishing the Maths course?
We got a full exam. Huzzah!?
Aw man, you actually get class rings?
Man, gaining weight is one of those things I actually wish I wasn’t too lazy to do. I’m skinny as a bitchstick.
It goes like this:
People who exercise regularly = healthy weight
People who are too lazy to exercise, so they diet = unhealthy weight
People who are too lazy to exercise or diet = overweight
People who are too lazy to even eat = probably going to die before the LC = me
(Did I just start two sentences with ‘man’? Blech.)
I don’t fall into any of your categories 🙁
I’m in the bracket that goes something like:
People who eat a ridiculous amount & are generally too lazy to exercise = stays thin.
I’ve stayed the same size, clothes wise, but I have definitely gained weight this year, which I don’t mind so much, cos I looked half dead last year >:(
Tbh, even if I’d turned into an absolute giant heifer, I don’t think it could stop me eating right now. I’m so, so hungry, all of the time.
Also, jealous both that you got pizza for finishing the maths course, and that you are, in fact, finished the maths course. 😛
That’s just cheating, Valentine! My categories that I just made up on the spot are LAW! You can’t fall outside them. To do so is to cease to exist within the bounds of this reality. They are definitions undefiable. Unless… you are… The One?
Yes, just like what I was talking about in my last blog too!! Leaving Cert Diet!
My ten day jaunt to Stockholm caused a sixth year baby miscarriage though (lovely visual :D) due to both an extremely hectic schedule and lack of food.. But now I’m home and it looks like I’m going to eat my way through the next four weeks, whoo…
Oh, this blog spoke to me in so many ways.
Award for best blog post of the year, please.
There was once a time when I looked really quite good in my skinny jeans. There really, really was.
2 years of the LC diet and I feel damn hideous.
The Summer’s going to have to be a blur of going to the gym and saying goodbye to junk. Oh, God.
I hate the Leaving Cert. I think I need some comfort carbs…
Ya’ll are starting to sound like Americans…
Next you’ll be swapping life-threatening dieting regimes on the quad while the jocks have a game of (armoured) ‘football’ and the nerds play like, chess, or something, but the pieces are red, white and blue. And the other pieces are like, wookies. Dressed like Iraqi militants. Nobody knows why. Yeah.
why do they organise the leavin cert so when you finish it (about 7 sizes bigger than when u began the previous september) its shorts and bikini time??? can we not do it in december or somethin so we have time to lose the after LC baby weight????
I couldn’t sympathise with all of your baby-talk when I first read this (I’m a skinny bitch, on the whole), but today a button comically popped off of my school trousers while I was closing them.
I am so f*cking fat.
oh my… lol.
😀
Was it during the class of a hot teacher or something Liam?
Come to think of it, why was he closing his trousers? After doing what…?
1) Oh my indeed.
2) The hot teachers go crazy for my no pants dance.
3) Come to think of it, it’s quite obvious really. Getting up and having a shower. Or maybe a weenis. Something totally above board anyway. Definitely.
Am I the only person who giggled at the word “weenis”?
Amusing on several levels 😀
I didn’t get it.