Day Seven, here’s the list:
2 slices toast, 2 cinnamon sugar Pop-tarts, 2 mozzarella sticks, 1/2 quesadilla, 3 boneless honey barbeque wings, 1/3 c artichoke dip w/ chips, SOS w/ toast, Diet Coke.
Friday and Monday I was off from work. I don’t take a lot of time off. Of course, then there’s my wife who has over 500 hours of vacation time built up, She took the days off, too. We just took life easy this weekend, and apparently so did my diet. I really hate calling this a diet. So far I haven’t made any other changes in my lifestyle aside from being a little more conscious of what I’m not eating because I don’t want to have to put in on here. I’ve put on some fairly embarrassing stuff already, but it’s not half of what I would eat without a second thought if not for this blog. As I write this, I am eating a piece of chocolate cake we had in the office for someone’s birthday. So go figure…
It make me think about back to a time several years ago when I was singing in the chorus of the opera Madama Butterfly. There was a scene where I was staged by a sweet older Russian immigrant. She was nice, but a little clueless sometimes. During the staging she inquired about my health and my weight. I could tell she was well-meaning and I discussed it with her. She was convinced that I needed to meet with a Russian doctor that was going to be in Salt Lake. She said he was an expert in weight loss. I thanked her, but said I really wasn’t interested. Later that week, we had a birthday celebration after one show for the company director. They had the whole cast, crew and orchestra in the green room for cake. And, bless her pointed little head, when I stepped up to get a piece of that cake, this dear little woman said, in front of the whole crowd, “Oh, Tony, no! No!” I shot her a dirty look and took it anyway, and never spoke to her again about weight loss.
I was listening to an ad last night about hair replacement surgery. One man was talking about his actual appearance didn’t match the picture he had of himself in his head. Being overweight is a lot the same thing. I know I’m fat, but I’m not as fat in my mind as I am in real life. And you see a lot of activists now pleading for more understanding and “equality” for overweight people. I think that is a total head-in-the-sand attitude. I don’t need equality for my size. I need a little understanding, but that’s about as far as it goes. Should the airlines charge extra for large people? Probably. If I can’t fit into one seat, why shouldn’t I have to pay for an extra seat? I guarantee to you that every fat person walking (or in wheel chairs or whatever) down the street looks at another fat person and thinks, “Wow, I hope I don’t look that fat.” I know I’ve done it. It’s extremely hypocritical, but it’s also a fact of life. I know that when I lose this weight, I will be more understanding to others who battle this problem, but I will not fight for legal protection for obesity. I hate the looks I get. I know that people are surprised by my size. I know that people who haven’t seen me in years get a real shock when they first see me. I see the look in people’s eyes when I am performing. It’s something that I hate, and that has probably fed into my problems. I want this behind me. I wish there was a magic reset button that I could push to get myself out of this, but there isn’t. It will be a long hard road to a thinner me. Thankfully, I at a point where I’m ready to take that journey.
Today’s quote:
“My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four. Unless there are three other people. ~Orson Welles”
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