Among all the other body-image realizations my recent bout of nakedness triggered in my skull, the most lasting one was that I could stand to lose a few pounds.
So, once again, I’ve been on the patented Feral Living hi-protein yo-yo diet. It works, for a while at least. So far I’ve digested four kilograms of myself. They should call it by its real name. Not dieting: autocannibalism.
I wish I could be as skinny as I was in my early twenties, eating whatever the hell I wanted and not having to worry about it.
Me, I’m on my own new regimen: walking an hour each day – to work and back; eating less food and watching the fat like a hawk.
My best diet was travelling around Europe alone for a month and a half. I lost a good 15 kilos.
i’d forgotten all about the traveling around europe diet. i did that too, when i was 17, even though i was traveling with a group. then again, hitchhiking around crete with alpha when i was 22.
this summer, we’re all going to see my mother, which will not be the same thing, though, weightwise.
I’ve been on the “unemployed so I cook all my food instead of eating out diet” lately, coupled with the “walk to the store and save on gas” exersize regimen. Lost like 25lb, back to my college weight, wearing a size 8, feeling pretty sassy.
Then my husband got laid off. And I started eating boy food, and scarfing it so as not to lose the last french fry to thieving hands.
Crap.