I'm on year 37 of my latest diet. I'm 38 years old, but that first year they really encourage you to gain weight. I think that's where all the problems may have started.
I've had a love/hate relationship with food most of my life. Mostly love. More of a hot, torrid, passion-filled affair if we're being truthful.
I have distinct memories of my maternal grandmother lecturing me on diets and how I should lose weight before I get older because "it's so much easier to lose weight when you're young."
Very sage advice from the woman who was shoveling freshly deep-fried french fries onto my plate faster than I could eat them as she dispensed her diet wisdom.
Some days I just want to say fuck it. I like being fat.
Except I don't.
I just like to eat.
I've decided when I'm 75, assuming I am fortunate enough to live that long, all bets are off and the whole life-long diet will be called on account of rain.
Rain can come in the form of ice cream right?
Midtown up - Three Hipstamatic shots in one.
3 days ago