Okay. I am big and beautiful. But that’s as far as I’ll go with the euphemisms.
If it weren’t for all the health problems, I wouldn’t mind being fat. Fat doesn’t bother me. I think John Goodman is sexy. So was Orson Welles (that voice — rrrrrooowwwllll!). Fat people have lives like anyone else, including love lives. If you don’t get a heart attack or a stroke or die of diabetes or some other dread disease brought about by food, you can have a long, full life as a fat person. Some of my best friends are fat people. We’re a lot of fun to hang around with.
I can’t speak for other overweight people, but the best way to get me on a diet is if one of my doctors hits me over the head with the fact that I need to go on one:
“Kathy, if you were to cross the street and get hit by a truck, it would be the truck that would be demolished, not you.”
That was my oncologist speaking.
Even then, I have to think about it for a couple of months before I can persuade myself to cut down on all the food I hold dear.
Once I start, though, I am determined to see it through. This determination tends to wane after about a week with little or no frozen yogurt, linguine with marinara sauce, hummus, cinnamon babka, provolone cheese, big globs of peanut butter or double chocolate muffins.
My Diet Journal would probably go something like this:
DAY ONE: Oh boy! My body is getting rid of all those silly toxins and I feel GOOD! I must have been to the bathroom ten times so far today, and it’s only noon. I didn’t know I had so much water in me. Let’s see. For lunch I will have a big bowl of romaine lettuce with carrots, cucumbers and diced celery, with exactly three ounces of water-packed tuna and exactly one tablespoon of low-fat dressing. No bread. For dessert: an orange. Yummy!
DAY TWO: I’m still a little hungry after that teeny-tiny mostly veggie dinner and teeny-tiny, boring, tasteless breakfast, but hungry is GOOD! It means the diet is working. I know. I’ll go to the gym and get on the treadmill. That’ll keep me busy so I won’t think about being hungry.
DAY THREE: Maybe if I sleep all day I won’t want to eat.
DAY FOUR: I gained half a pound! How did that happen? I’ve been living on lettuce, carrots, cucumbers and diced celery for three days! I’ve been to the bathroom so much that the toilet threatened to go on strike! YOU DON’T GAIN HALF A POUND FROM EATING FREAKIN’ LETTUCE AND PEEING EVERY TWO HOURS! I’m being cheated!
DAY FIVE: I had a nice long telephone chat with the leader of my weekly meeting, and now I’m calm again. I will stick this out, and I’ll like it because it’s such a fun diet. All those smiling people on the website know how much fun it is, and they should know. This will be my lifestyle from now on. I will find other things to do besides eating edible food and force myself to enjoy my life, if it kills me. Now, where did I put the lettuce?
DAY SIX: Ice cream! Ice cream! I want ice cream! On top of a big piece of Tiramisù. After a dinner of Linguine Carbonara and Chicken Parmigiana. If I don’t get some real food soon, I can’t be held responsible for what I’ll do. I’m thinking of going to that damned diet meeting place and shooting everyone with Reddy Whip. That’ll show them!
DAY SEVEN: After spending the night in the slammer for spraying ten women and one man with a can of frozen whipped cream, I am back home, peacefully enjoying a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Greek Frozen Yogurt.