Category — Remorse

I’ve been starving myself for the past two weeks, and the anorexic me had totally forgotten what a bitch the fat me is. That is until this morning when I found these on my desk. Apparently I placed the order back when I was eating everything within a 100 mile radius.  I hate myself, but not nearly as much as I do the little crack dealer who sold them to me.

Since we opened up the dialogue about hate a couple of weeks ago, I thought I’d mention that one of our readers recently wrote to tell us he’d like to see more hate crimes against fat people on our blog. Apparently, we’ve simmered down in that department, which goes to say that RA has upped its moral integrity.

Okay, not really. The truth is, we currently fall into the fat category and we don’t want this to be a blog about self pity. I promise that as we lose weight, we’ll do our best to make people like Piddle suffer an intestinal hemorrhage more often. As for the rest of you, we hope our rants about the dangerously obese population serves as inspiration to never get fat.

“There’s a part of me that dreams of being physically fit.” I said this to my husband yesterday and he laughed in my face. I guess some dreams never do come true.

I’ll do almost anything for the love of animals, including eat. So last night my husband and I went to California Pizza Kitchen, which for one day only offered to donate 20% of your check to a local animal shelter. Now I know some hardcore anorexics might ask, “Why not just donate the cash directly and thereby avoid the food situation altogether?” In fact, I asked this of myself. But I have several good reasons for eating for charity. One, it’s more fun. Two, my husband needs to eat and it’s not fair for me to deprive him. Three, I’M FUCKING STARVING and one meal isn’t going to kill me. At least that’s what my therapists have told me.

The most obvious advice we can give to a person trying not to be fat — and one that Skinny Lady and I forget to follow on occasion — is to stay away from places that sell food when you’re hungry. Following are some examples as to what may occur should you fail to comply:

• You eat a blini (a Russian crepe) from a farmer’s market for lunch. Then you stop by Whole Foods on the way home and buy a falafel wrap and eat that for lunch too.
• Your husband finds you in the bread aisle at the grocery store 25 minutes after sending you there. You can’t decide on just one loaf and would have bought three if Skinny Man didn’t show up.
• You impulsively buy fattening food and snacks and then impulsively eat them at home just to get it out of your sight.
• You wake up early on a Monday morning and ask your husband to make you french toast with the pumpkin walnut bread you stupidly purchased the day before when you went to the market hungry.

Next to binging on nachos, crinkle fries and candy bars in one sitting, I would have to say my biggest mistake is going to the mall on the day after Christmas. I don’t know why I do these things, except I’m obviously a self-loathing masochist. But I guess the point is to learn from your mistakes and if I learned anything from my trip to the mall yesterday, it’s that people are:

• Fat
• Slow (probably because they’re fat)
• Ugly
• Stupid
• Rude
• Desperate
• Smelly

Don’t get me wrong – I’m a compassionate and loving person who truly cares about humanity. And by humanity, I mean people as they exist abstractly, like on tv or in the papers. The minute they become part of my reality, I hate them all equally.

When temptation lurks around every corner. For instance – the giant ziplock bag on the kitchen counter, bursting at the seams with fun size candy, which isn’t really fun at all, at least not once you’ve swallowed it because that’s when the guilt sets in, and to console yourself you indulge in “just one more,” and the next thing you know you’re screaming at that skinny bastard you call a spouse for not saving you from yourself, when all he needed to do was hide that bag from your leering eyes, empty stomach and junkie one-more-hit-won’t-kill-me mentality.

My therapist told me I make fun of fat people because I envy their carelessness when it comes to food. She’s absolutely right. I’m sorry fat people.