Despertar

it's a twin thing

Tina isn't as hippy as I am, so when she gains weight, it gets distributed much more evenly along her torso and her legs stay skinny. Mine, on the other hand, goes right to my hips, my thighs, my butt.

Hence, we still weigh about the same as each other, like in high school, but she's only just now growing out of her skinny jeans. In two months or so, when the holiday season is behind us, she'll probably get right back into them.

I sort of hate her for this. But skinny jeans aren't for black girls, anyway.

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I'm pretty sure I'm glad I don't have a twin. I always thought I wanted one, but now, armed with all life's lessons about injustice and relativity, I think it would suck, for me. Either I'd be the smart one and she'd be the pretty one, or she'd be smarter than me, too, and win both titles. And she would enjoy exercise more, so she'd be prancing around in skinny jeans, a la the Tina of a month ago. Which would not do.