Wow. Terri wrote in my blog. That's like going on a vacation for a while and coming back to find your apartment painted by the building management. Or like, finding that a roommate put a box of cookies in your side of the cabinet. Whichever. She also wrote:
"there's lots going on with you guys...but i'm not seeing it in the blogs :)" Which is just another friendly reminder to litter this cyber corner with my verbal purge. If only fat cells could be shed by verbosity.
Sometimes it seems like overweight people are in a better disposition. They'll smile more, laugh more easily, and openly appreciate attention. I feel like a bitter fat person. I know of course, that a lot of things can be a "front", a lot of emotions are projected to make up for pools of insecurities, a lot of jovial facial expressions are fighting the tears and blow-pops cover alcohol breath and weird jaw lines. But I digress... Don't I?
Anyway, I swear to god, I've been exercising all the time. Cucumbers and celery don't have a lot of calories. Coffee is excellent. (I know...) But back to it, there's an excellent place in the west village called McNulty's Coffee... it's run by an asian father and son who look italian and have jewish accents. I recommend the Organic Peruvian. The Organic Galapagos is a little bit too dark. Go with the Peruvian. Sweeten with Stevia and Nonfat Westsoy. You can't go wrong. (I know...)
I've been using 15 pound weights and also doing push-ups and crunches. Some friends have said I look thinner, but it's this really long miserable process and I think that even if I've lost some weight, it's only the incentive to realize that I can actually lose some of me and keep working harder and harder to get down to a normal size. Jesus, man, I just want to fit through the subway doors. When they say "Stand Clear of The Closing Doors" they are referring to me. The rest goes... "Because We Want to Close Them and Get This God-Damned Train Moving. Esme. Out!"
And it's so hot outside, I feel like my body is the sun, collapsing onto the tiny planet that can barely spin with the force of me smothering it. I am global warming.
And somewhere Al Gore is up in his cherry picker pointing to a spot at the top of his graph, mentioning nothing about factory farming being the number one producer of methane gas. Yes, cow shit. Screw SUV's. You can drive all the SUV's you want and it wouldn't equal your hamburger's cost to the environment.
There's a lot to worry about and I can't wait to be thinner to be more productive.
And if you think this is indulgent, remember: you are reading a stranger's blog.
Terri is amazing.