D'oh!

Back up to 107 lbs.  Crap.

Overheard on an office conference call with the mucketty-mucks

“You’re a hardass with a heart of gold!”

Pumpkin Pie, I Do Not Spy

My parents just developed a batch of photos of me (and why were these taken again?  I am noticeably edging away) snapped just before Christmas of last year.  Squinting, they ask, “Were these taken before you lost all that weight?”

The fact that they even need to ask means, quite obviously, “no.”  

So, I am a walking “Before” picture.  Just tonight I tried to vomit a dinner of meatballs, salad, and “primal” pumpkin pie, but three fingers down my throat later, I still failed miserably.  My body, apparently, is extremely unwilling to give up food. 

So I have programmed my phone calendar to remind me to do three 24-hour fasts over the next week.  And that’s how we do Paleo in the year 2008, bitches.  

Yes, I am a bit too far gone to just “eat less and enjoy the foods I eat.”  Yes, it’s obsessive compulsive.  This past week, I tried to swear off analyzing my food intake on Fitday and weighing myself twice daily.  In the meantime, I kept imagining my visceral fat growing in mass, parasitically choking off my internal organs.  So, now what?

Pie-Day

So, despite no sexual partners to speak of and no appreciably lowered percentage of body fat (I can see, ever so vaguely, where my lowest floating rib should be, but sadly no ab muscles to speak of…and yes, I can do the boob-pencil trick), I haven’t actually had my period since late August. I’m guessing my body has just given up on the prospect of ever supporting another life, and I am going into early menopause. Perhaps we can throw me a party?

In the meantime, I’ve been trying out various sugar-free, gluten-free pie recipes in the name of Thanksgiving and am now closer to 107 lbs than 105 lbs. If this doesn’t put a stop to early bone density loss, I don’t know what will. If not, someone please euthanize me soon so I can leave a not-so-hideous corpse? kthxbye.

Pie-Day

So, despite no sexual partners to speak of and no appreciably lowered percentage of body fat (I can see, ever so vaguely, where my lowest floating rib should be, but sadly no ab muscles to speak of…and yes, I can do the boob-pencil trick), I haven’t actually had my period since late August. I’m guessing my body has just given up on the prospect of ever supporting another life, and I am going into early menopause. Perhaps we can throw me a party?

In the meantime, I’ve been trying out various sugar-free, gluten-free pie recipes in the name of Thanksgiving and am now closer to 107 lbs than 105 lbs. If this doesn’t put a stop to early bone density loss, I don’t know what will. If not, someone please euthanize me soon so I can leave a not-so-hideous corpse? kthxbye.

State of today

Still feel soft and like a “thick ethnic girl.” I am closer to 106 lbs than 105 today. I can see (just barely) the bottom outline of my ribcage (my floating ribs?), but no ab definition yet.

Upgrade!

OMG, the new version of Excel allows you to sort rows by color. This will change my life.

Lucky!

Yesterday’s dinner was lamb shanks and spinach and wine. Oh, so good. Then, a quick 24-hour fast later, and — surprise! — mom cooked lamb chops (and carrots) tonight! I love lamb. So cute, so cuddly, so delicious.

I’m curious about mutton, but I think it went out of fashion with, like, the Pilgrims.

A pleasant interlude

On the recommendation of my parents, I visited the Edwynn Houk Gallery across the street from my office building. Amazing photographs by Chen Jiagang. Not that I would know. The exhibit, “The Great Third Front,” will be there through this Saturday, if you like that sort of thing. Bonded a bit with the receptionist, Jeff.

Celebrate!

Carved a Barack o’Lantern over the weekend.

It’s pretty sweet. Thanks, Better Homes & Gardens!

Yesterday, I accidentally saw the Columbus Day Parade as it passed my office building. I understand being ambivalent about/angry with Columbus and the nations that backed him, but are marching band members universally forbidden from smiling or looking happy?

These were the glummest, most doleful, morose, and grim looking marching bands I have ever seen in my life. All of them, from the New Jersey high schoolers to the military bands, looked absolutely miserable. Is it some kind of silent protest against imperialism and the ravaging of Native American populations, or what? That I could get behind, if the message was clear, but if they just didn’t want to get up that morning, that’s no excuse.