Seriously, I am up 2.2 pounds because yesterday I had 20 tortilla chips and salty skirt steak.

I am extremely pissed that a blip causes that much bloating in me, but it does.

This is why I like to weigh myself every day.  I know why it went up 2.2 pounds.  I expect, at some point, it will drop again, although probably not tomorrow.


This was a shitty food day.  I woke up late, bloated, so “breakfast” was tbs of peanuts while I worked.

I ate “lunch” around 3 pm: an egg, an egg white, 1 tbs of heavy cream in 1/4 tbs of butter, with .25 feta cheese.  It was really good.

For dinner, I went for chinese with BFD, post-workout.  We split soup, dumplings, and an entrée, with me eating about a third of each.  Yeah, more salt, more carbs. Tomorrow, I would guess I am up another 2.  Which means, my four pound goal is now a 6 pound goal.



For me, I have two problems with dieting that are certainly not unique to me.  No one in my life respects that I am dieting.  In fact, they are downright undermining about it.  Now, in my case, I am already skinny, and my friends W and JF have begun expressing alarm that I am bulimic.  They go so far as to literally lean in to see if they smell vomit when I return from the wc.  Seriously.  Every single fucking restaurant meal.  They believe I am bulimic, since they see me eat and I am really skinny.  It’s absurd.  They also believe that when they see me eat is the only time I am really eating that day . . . which sometimes is true.

My friends have become more and more vocal about the fact I have an eating disorder, which I do.

BFD on the other hand encourages me to eat with him.  We always share our food.  In fact, I cannot remember the last time we just ate our own meal.  He loves that I eat with him and that I eat what he eats.  It’s a matter of pride for him, especially in ethnic restaurants, that though I am practically translucent I am so white, I eat everything no matter how spicy or exotic.  Even when servers have been uncomfortable serving me certain things, he always wants me to eat whatever it is, which I do with enthusiasm.

I eat a bit of everything, but I do not eat the same volume that he does.  Tonight, I had some hot and sour soup, 2 fried pork dumplings, and orange beef.  He encouraged me to eat the steamed rice, which I kept handing back to him, but other than that, I ate what he ate, just not as much.

Calorie-wise, I am certainly fine on the day and if it were just truly a matter of calories in/calories out, I’d be good.  But for me, it’s not.

So, tomorrow will be ugly on the scale.  I already know it.  I am okay with that.  I could have made different choices, passed on everything, but I am balancing my diet with my life.  That means, I eat carefully at home, within reason out, but I don’t sweat any single meal.  I also don’t overdo it.  I could have been absurd at texmex — with tortillas or rice and beans, both of which came with my meal — or margaritas.  I could have eaten more — we left food on the plate to the dismay of our server — but I did not.

So, I failed again today, but I feel okay with it.