i'm bringing sexy back.

Most days I step on the scale wearing only Chanel and Victoria. Mostly, just Chanel. So it goes without saying how immensely disappointed I am in Karl Lagerfeld's comments regarding Adele's weight.

In case I haven't made it abundantly clear by now, I would go gay for Adele. And Celine Dion too, but that's a different story.

The point I have in mentioning any of this is that I'm having difficulty navigating the very awkward world of weight loss. I've found something that works for me and I'm sticking to it; however, this is not the problem of which I speak. What I find astounding is the reaction I get from people around me. "So when are you going to stop?" and "How much have you lost? ... oh, that's not a lot" are rude and unnecessary, but they're also things I hear regularly.

I can't help but feel like my dedication to myself is something that makes other people feel uncomfortable with themselves, and that I should be conducting this life experiment in the confines of a well hidden basement only to emerge after a year with a dramatic before-and-after reveal of myself (complete with life-size cut outs). It seems to me like no one wants to see the process. Everyone expects me to lose weight, but no one wants to stick around for the ride.

This is not something I can or will do privately. I have tremendous amounts of respect for the people who can be shut-ins in their own home for a lengthy period of time only to re-emerge victorious. Sadly, I lack the attention span and financial backing to accomplish such a lifestyle. That means for the people around me, I'll have to eat in public and sweat in public and contemplate the necessity of eating the banana that's currently on my desk in public. I don't mean for it to be such an awkward process, but it is a process and for the sake of my health and sanity I would prefer to keep it at a steady pace.



A few weeks ago I read an article in the NYT about some bullshit scientific explanation about why it's so hard to lose weight. The real explanation, to put it simply, is that people aren't willing to do what's necessary. For example: over the weekend I was walking through the hallway in the hotel that I work at on my way to use the fitness center (un gros merci to my bosses for saving me a gym membership) when one of my favorite housekeepers literally laughed in my face and said (in Spanish) "look who's back again." Apparently it's quite the laughing matter among our housekeeping staff that I am literally there EVERY.SINGLE.DAY, even on my days off. Believe me, there are places I'd rather be and things I'd rather be doing than to have to spend every bloody day in the gym. I like naps, I MISS napping, but these are the sacrifices I make. Then yesterday, my favorite maintenance guy said to me "I wish I had your dedication." I thought it was a very sweet way of complimenting me until I started thinking: he could have the same level of dedication, it's his choice not to that makes all the difference. I found my motivation in the fact that I'm sick: I hate doctors, I resent being on medication, and I understand the science of my condition enough to realize that losing weight is the best thing I have going for myself. I realize not everyone has a built-in motivator such as a debilitating brain condition, but the truth is all it takes is a tiny spark to get the ball rolling.


This week's spark: black jeggings. I've been playing with the idea for a while, but I swear to god I have body dismorphic disorder and I don't see myself objectively so my brain keeps repeating "you're too fat for jeggings." NO.SUCH.THING. Black jeggings THIS WEEKEND.



When things get really tough on the exercise machines, I tell myself "THIS is where you've wanted to be ALL DAMN DAY. MAKE THE MOST OF IT." I pretty much mentally yell at myself to remind my brain that the hour I spend in the gym decides how I get to live the rest of my day. It's harsh, but true (and effective).




I had an exam in class last night which threw my entire day's eating off a bit. I had a banana first thing in the morning before the gym, a turkey sandwich with cheddar, lettuce, and tomato slices for lunch with a handful of kettle chips and a stalk of celery, a can of V8 and a green apple for snack, and for dinner boyfriend made me a grilled chicken quesadilla. It was much bigger and cheesier than I would have made for myself and I felt like he was watching to see if I would eat it all (spoiler: I did) because he has this wild idea that I'm starving myself. It really fucked me up to go to bed with such a full stomach last night. No BM last night or this morning which threw off my breakfast today too. I struggled through a bowl of Special K Vanilla Almond with skim and I skipped my morning banana. I feel really off today, if I don't poop soon it's going to fuck up my run later.

You totally need to know this.