"Diet" Is a Damn Dirty Word

I've officially gone diet-schizophrenic.  For some reason, I just can't seem to get my brain (or body) to get into any one regimen and feel comfortable or successful.  The result is me ping-ponging back and forth between various diet strategies, and while the pounds are sloooooowwwwly coming off, I can feel my internal register freaking out... not to mention my brain going a little nuts.

The last 10+ years of my life I've spent dieting.  Isn't that just disgusting?  This frustrates me, because I am so head-over-heels, out-of-my-mind in love with food.  It's the best thing that Man has ever contributed to the world: complex, rich, savory, sweet, inspired FOOD.  I would even argue that it's better than music... though I might get lots of people disagreeing with that one.  Let's just agree that they're on-par with one another, yeah?

Don't get me wrong, I've had extreme success with dieting.  I was a "big kid", and I know now that I will never be a waif-like, 125 lb. model thing.  I finished up my freshman year of college at 203 lbs.  At my lowest, as a senior in college (after doing Weight Watchers for two years and then Medifast for 6 months) I was 154 lbs.  Success!  Happiness!  Joy to the world, right?

Well then I moved in with my stupid, fun boyfriend and put on 20 lbs.  "Happy Weight", I'm told.  But living with someone who loves cooking and eating out as much as I do is so rough.  On top of that, we're also avid cocktail-hunters, and Seattle is the perfect place for this.  Do you have any idea how many calories a chocolate hazelnut espresso martini has?!?  I don't know either, but from 5-7PM  they cost only $5 at Dilettante, which is just 2 blocks away.

I can't win, people.

Can't we all be fat and happy?  Can't we all agree that being thin and "fit" isn't sexy anymore?  Can't we be like the ancient Greeks who appreciated a woman with some meat on her bones?  I just want to eat Indian food, or bread and cheese and wine, or homemade pastries and cartons-upon-cartons of fruit every day until I'm fat and old and dead... Why is that so wrong??

For the last three and a half weeks I've been doing Atkins.  I wanted something extreme so that I could get as much of this excess "happy weight" off as possible before going to Hawai'i at the end of this month.  (I've long-since accepted that I won't be bikini-ready... ever.)  I'm down almost 10 lbs, which is admirable; I should be happy with that.  While not having bread has been a struggle, I was happy to start every Saturday morning with an obscene amount of eggs, bacon and sour cream.  (Seriously, what kind of diet is this?!?)  But Atkins has plateaued me, so I'm switching back to Weight Watchers officially.

I love Weight Watchers.  If you need to lose weight, suck it up and pay for WW.  Seriously.  It gives you so much freedom to eat whatever you want without feeling guilty, and it's all about just not over-doing it.  When I was dog-sitting for a friend two weeks ago, she had a bunch of those mini-Costco brownies on her counter.  I looked at them longingly, knowing if I was just on WW, I could have had one.  Or two.  Or three!  Then I was sad. Atkins be-damned; WW is a win-win. (Heh, see what I did there?)

Anyway, enough of the plug.  Next week is my 25th birthday, and I've requested that Jon take me to one of my favorite restaurants in Seattle, Delancey.  It's a little above our price range to go regularly, but we've realized that we can share a starter salad, share a pizza, and share a dessert and be totally satisfied.  That's a good choice to not break the bank, especially if you like treating yourself to some wine, like we do.

I will keep you updated on my weight-loss progress, as well as the food I will now start enjoying.

/end rant.