In which I have no ass

A couple of days ago my friends Lynne and Jade were sitting in my kitchen.

They come over to visit almost every afternoon and it's a favorite part of my day, I love them both to bits.

So they're yakking around the kitchen island and I walk into the adjoining dining room to grab something off the table. I bend over the table to get whatever it is I was looking for (you'll see why I forgot in a sec), when Lynne stops whatever she was saying and shouts as if my hair was on fire:

"Melissa, you have no ass!"

"Huh?"

"Your butt, seriously, it is gone. You. Have. No. Butt. And your hips, you have no hips! Jade, look at her hips! They're gone. WHERE ARE YOUR HIPS?"

These are conversations I never thought I would have. Actually, "conversation" is probably the wrong word, as I stood there, half-confused, half-flattered, as Lynne rambled on enthusiastically about my body.

Now Lynne sees me every day, so I'm not sure why it hit her that my rear no longer needed its own zip code, but it was nice. Although odd. But nice.

I got my hair cut today and as I was paying, the salon receptionist (who I know in a "Hi-Bye-Next Appointment" way, not a familial "Where's your ass?" way) said, "Are you still working out?"

"Yes," I answered, a little surprised as I don't recall ever discussing weight-loss or fitness with her.

"I can tell. You look awesome. I'm starting with a personal trainer next week. Because of you."

Again, wow. Another amazing thing about the weight-loss process. When you have some success, you never know who you may influence - all without any idea you're doing so.

People watch you. They notice you're losing weight, but may not say anything. And then all of a sudden they approach you and thank you for something you had no idea you were doing.

Very humbling.