Every year it starts around Canadian Thanksgiving (which is in October, in case you weren't sure) and then it just goes downhill from there... the temptation to indulge.

Thanksgiving brings us pumpkin pies, followed by Halloween's mini chocolate bars. And we all know once you start indulging that sweet tooth, the cravings become stronger, and so many of us are likely to indulge those cravings a little more often. The next thing you know, it's Christmas... tis the season for temptation.

We spend Christmas out at J's folks, and they spend the month before our arrival baking. Butter tarts, almond bark, peanut brittle, sugar cookies, haystacks, chocolate mint squares, marshmallow peanut butter squares... and let's not forget the boxes of chocolate that get passed around the room again and again in non-stop rotation until they're completely empty. Ugh. I feel gross just thinking about it.

I don't usually have much of a sweet tooth, and I like to think that I have a decent amount of will-power to say 'no thanks' when that damn box of Pot o' Gold truffles is being passed under my nose for the third time in ten minutes... but even so, come January, I find I've still got a bit of "the Christmas" goin' on.

"The Christmas" is how J n' I (and now a couple of our friends) refer to that extra bit of holiday wooby. And to translate our bizarre code words even further, "wooby" is a pudgy belly.

"The Christmas" conception took place a few years ago, when J complained to me how he gained some poundage over the holidays, and how it was taking him months to shed "the Christmas." We have now started using the term "the Christmas" year round.

For instance, last night we went out to the pub next door with our friend R. R told us that our waitress had recently admitted to him that since she started dating her new boyfriend she has become really lazy. She stopped working out at the gym and they've been ordering pizza almost every night.

"So, I guess she's worried because it seems she's been getting a bit of the Christmas," R told us.

"Yeah, I kinda noticed that she suddenly had the Christmas," J replied.

Ah yes, the Christmas....

So, I know what you're wondering... what the hell is the point to this story about woobies and the Christmas?

Well, I'll tell you... there really isn't one. I just thought it was a funny expression.

Okay, then again I guess there is a point...

Since I quit my job with FakeNameCompany, I no longer have a gym membership. (The gym was in the building next door, and our company gave us a discount, so my membership was only $11 a month.) Not that I really went religiously -- I've always enjoyed just going for a long walk if I want some exercise -- but still, that gym pass came in handy any time I thought I needed to take it up a knotch because I was starting to get the Christmas.

I guess I could get another gym pass elsewhere, but they're all like $40+ a month... and now that I'm living off of funding, I really don't want the extra monthly expense. I borrowed a Yoga DVD from R, so I'm going to try to start doing that... if only I could pull my butt out of bed early enough before we start writing in the morning.

But my concern doesn't just stem from the fact that I don't work out enough anymore and that Christmas temptations are just around the corner... there is an added factor which is the new pair of jeans I recently bought.

Now, I only really had one pair of decent jeans. The others are threading or torn in places or are totally shredded at the ankles (because I'm so darn short and never got them properly hemmed.) So this has left me wearing my one pair of decent jeans almost all the time. That is, until I noticed that Bluenotes was having a big sale, and on top of that, I have a Bluesnotes discount card. Whoo!

So, in I went to buy another pair of jeans -- but then I got home only to realize that they were the exact same pair as the good pair I already own. Don't ask me how I could make this kind of mistake, as I wear these jeans pretty much every second day... but I guess I must really like them, because they were the same make, colour, and brand. Yes, I know my job doesn't require me to leave the house, but still, I don't want to be alternating between two identical pairs of jeans every day. Variety is the spice of life. So I decided to return them for something different.

I went back the next day and just grabbed my size but in a different shade and make. I stupidly never bothered to try them on. I know... big mistake. I'm an idiot.

Well, let's say that they fit fine for the most part, but when I sit down they feel a little snug like I'm baking Christmas muffins. Plus, they're low rise so I find I'm often pulling them up just a bit so I don't have that mini muffin, but then they get all tight in the crotch, so I have to pull them down... then up, then down, up and down. Dammit.

It's too late to return them, as I've already worn them outside twice. I mean, they're fine n' all, but they'd be even better if I dropped a couple pounds, which is likely not going to happen over the holidays - or according to some individuals, is apparently *never* going to happen ever again, as a few people have told us matter-of-factly, "Now that you're married, you're going to get fat." God bless 'em.

Anyhoo... so that's what's on my mind today as I sit here, wearing my new jeans for the third time this week, hoping that if I squat and stretch in them some more, the seams will relax and they'll loosen just a smidgen more, making a little extra breathing room when the time comes for the Christmas.