My first entry

I thought I would start a diary, rant about my weight loss journey. Maybe to be accountable to myself, possibly because of a hidden masochistic streak or just for the hell of it. A rambling if you will about my life, or lack thereof, my weight, my burning desire for a chocolate bar on a pretty much continuous basis. I would like to say that I will be witty charming and publishable (is that a word? I don't really care but I am just asking) but mostly I just hope to be skinny at the end of this diary. WHAT I FEAR: That I will for lack of a better analogy fall of the weight loss wagon yet again, that I will be here a year latter as the always fat cousin, the girl with fabulous shoes in a shapless potatoe sack at yet another wedding of impossibly thin blond relatives. That I will develop horrible diseases and high blood pressure and an unending craving for cheesecake and ice cream and gorge myself silly. That this will be the year I top the scale at a whole new unthinkable weight. WHAT I CRAVE: Besides the obvious, chocolate and cheese and crusty french bread, maybe a thick chicken-fried steak with a side of potatoes and lots of butter, all in one meal of course. I want to be the thin girl, not the impossibly thin girl mind you, rather the hotty in the tank top and fitted jeans made up with heels and confidence to spare. You know, the one men stop to say hi to and saleswomen siddle up to with rubbed hands to try and sell the store to in one fell swoop. The girl who doesn't try too hard to be the center of attention and sometimes isn't but maybe just occasionally is right there in the action. I want to dream big and be thin to be comfortable in my skin for the first time in years. I want less than the american dream and more than I already have at this moment in time. I want my cat to be the only big butted mammal in the apartment. That's what I want, this is where I am, overweight and underpaid, literally. Every day at the gym killing myself on the machines, lifting the weights and getting the look about what the crazy fat chick is doing. I am becoming obsessive about working out, which I suppose is better than being obsessive about chocolate. It still feels like a level of hell though, not Dante's ninth level mind you, just a level somewhere in the middle. The really boring painful level, where it is never ending and you can only stare out the window and watch cars break traffic laws for so long. Where two hours of cardio is forever and then in an especially evil move the rest of the day goes ridiculously fast and suddenly you are back at 8:30 am on the eliptical machine with two hours to go and bad country music on your headset radio because it is the only thing that comes in without static and you will slit your wrists before being forced to listen to the perenially perky and skinny Katie Couric on TV. Of course, you have been forced to watch her because you are only five foot two and reaching the tv to turning it off is a privilege reserved for tall people not midgets like you. Every day is like this except for the weekend where you have a whole day off to relax and sleep in, except you can't because your body is now trained to wake up at 8 am and the sunlight streams in no matter what you do to prevent it. No matter it is a whole day off since Sunday doesn't count because on Sunday you will be back at the gym lifting weights which sucks almost as much. Mostly because I lose count somewhere in the middle of any given set and then end up doing either more or less weights than I should be doing. Then I have lifter's guilt, you know, I worry I'm lifting too much weight or too little, am I doing this move right, should I be doing the reps slower, are other people watching me. Then after half an hour to an hour of that lovely mind trip, I go home and shower. Somedays I have so much guilt that I think my catholic roots are showing next thing you know I will be wondering if I should go to Mass even though no one in my family in the past two generations has done that or even believed in the teachings of the catholic church. So then I am home, and there is food to be eaten. Well, if you call the processed goodness of slimfast, which I don't, not really. Fortunately, my body considers it to be chocolate, I am so evil for tricking myself like this, I should really hate me. Really I should, I'm just a bad, bad person, I am ashamed of me. But I digress, so there is slimfast and then later there is fruit, or popcorn. Then distraction, dinner and bed and the whole thing starts over again. I am telling you, this whole weight loss thing is evil, but has to be done. I know that, doesn't make it not evil and boring. See, the way I figure it, weight loss is kind of like good shoes. At least for me. I need good shoes, I crave good shoes, just the way I want to lose weight. So, I remind myself, how much healthier would it be to own lots of shoes and be skinny, rather than to be fat with good shoes. Because, lets be honest here, who notices a fat girl's shoes, you notice that she is fat. But a thin girl, well you might just notice her shoes because you are not distracted by the weight. Okay, maybe that is just me. I am obsessed with shoes after all. I have mentioned that this is all about me right. So had lupper (for the unintiated that would be lunch and supper combined into one meal) quite nummy and well within diet guidelines but did have to watch the roommates eat saurkraut. Now I must admit, I don't get saurkraut, not in any way, why was this crap invented. It tastes nasty and involves cabbage which I actively dislike on general principles as being not nearly as good as lettuce or spinach or any one of a number of similar vegetables. But I am guessing that you are confused right about now, given my size it would seem that I loved every food in existence, frequently and in large quantities, however you would be wrong about that idea. FOODS I HATE: The aformentioned saurkraut, eggplant, these dried seed things you get in Hawaii, martinis (although I like chocolate martinis) and I am not huge on really spicy things or pickled ginger. However, obviously this is a short list and the list of food that I love is simply enormous and never ending. If I only hated more food, losing weight would be so much easier and less annoying. It is annoying, if not downright painful to give up margaritas and wine because of the calories, and to skimp on cheese and eliminate deserts to help slim one's middle. Some people never experience this pain, which I think is a clear sign that if the creator exists she has a messed up sense of humor. Plus, some people just don't like food which is wrong in my humble opinion, food should be enjoyed and savored and licked off the plate if you are alone in your room. I mean people starve to death every day in the world so shouldn't we at least enjoy the experience while we can and be thankful for it. Okay, rant officially over. On a side note, I was told once by a doctor that given the death grip with which my body holds on to food I would probably easily survive something like a famine and all the skinny people would die. I take a certain satisfaction from that thought.