Losing Weight – A Piece of Cake?

July 22nd, 2011 by Magdalena Tabor

I have always been able to eat anything I want, never had the slightest concept on how to diet, and have never had to exercise. As a teenager I was always self-conscious about my stick figure – people would constantly comment “You’re SOOOOOO SKINNY!” or worse, “Did you lose weight?” These were not meant to be compliments. I made desperate attempts to gain a few much-needed pounds. I ate whole boxes of cookies, huge portions of ice cream, along with my usual three solid meals a day – nothing worked. Poor little me. Throughout my life I have had the pleasure of eating this way although somewhat more moderately having given up the notion of weight gain.
Then one day Father Time touched my brow and said “Enough of this, Stick Girl. Pay Up”. Not that I’m fat now by any S-T-R-E-T-C-H of the imagination but let’s just say that my skinny jeans could use some slenderizing.  Clothes that used to fit, don’t. Could they have shrunk? But why only in certain places? Are they making new garments a size or two smaller than they used to ? Please say yes. Feel free to interject any positive feedback here. Now is the right time. Could it be that cute little saying you find on magnets and posters is actually a whammy someone finally slammed me with ? You know the one…… “Please, God. If you can’t make me skinny, make my friends fat”. Ever notice that most clothes you buy these days have stretch in them ? I somehow tend to think this gives us an excuse to eat more. If the clothing were more constrictive, we’d eat less. As it is, we feel quite comfortable having that extra piece of cake at the family BBQ along with the baby back ribs and extra helping of potato salad. And why do they call it “helping”? IT’S NOT HELPING! Rather it should be “Would you like another hindrance ?” to which you aptly reply, “No thank you. I’ve had enough”.
I’m tired of sucking in the belly. It used to work but now I can’t seem to hold my breath that long. I once was able to and would have been a good candidate for deep sea diving but no more. I even tried one of those under garments. You know – the kind that look like sausage skins. You pick one out that’s the size you imagine yourself to be and then you stuff your blubber into it. At first, it feels okay and you look stupendous but after a couple of hours, (once you’ve left the house and there’s no turning back) it feels like a vise or a medieval iron maiden. You can’t possibly remove it until you get home – if you do that slinky dress you’re wearing will look like all hell broke loose.  Instead, you smile obligingly all through the evening and no one has the slightest indication that you should be nominated for an Oscar for the performance of the century. Finally, and not a moment too soon, you arrive home breathless tearing the damn thing off at the front door to the utter astonishment (and extreme disappointment) of your husband, ignoring the look of stunned shock and disbelief on his face. “What? You actually thought I poured this dress on with no help from the Fairy Godmother?”
What we women endure for the sake of beauty. WHY do we torture ourselves? Who are we trying to impress? Why should I care if you’re offended by my over exuberant tendency to self-inflate? I’VE HAD IT ! No more sausage skins for me. This form of self-infliction is not new to the female sex. In Victorian times women wore corsets so tightly bound, they passed out. Thus, that very elegant piece of furniture known as “The Fainting Couch” was born. It was usually situated at the landing upon climbing the staircase for women would feel faint from the mere effort of this normal exercise. I imagine had I been born in that era, I would have spent considerable time utilizing that couch………….”Bring me my fan, Lilly dear”.
Interestingly, the corsets of wealthy women were laced at the back – a servant was required to tie them. Those who could not afford a servant had to tie their own, hence the front laced corset. The smallest waist on record measured just 13 jnches. Think of it – you could wear your pearl choker around your waist as a belt. Somehow that just seems freakishly tiny.
Once having abandoned various forms of restrictive clothing, how to go about losing the unwanted baggage? I’ve given up ice cream (not cake just yet – give it time). I walk the twenty minutes to the train station in the morning refusing the offer of neighbors for a ride, opt to climb the stairs rather than use the escalator, and spend less time glued to my chair at the office and more time bustling around looking ever so efficient. Still, the unsightly roll refuses to diminish in size. In fact, it appears to grow larger with each passing minute (oops ! Forgot to hold my breath).  I find myself checking the clock for lunchtime and each day it begins a few minutes earlier than the day before. Brunch anyone? Perhaps a philanthropic thrust towards a hunger strike for motivation. Not like the girl who wanted an invite to the Royal Wedding – she never generated enough sympathy and either shriveled down to nothing or gave up the idea altogether as the end result lost the attention of the media. I believe her intention was to kill two birds with one stone; get invited to the wedding AND get into that size 4 dress to boot.
I’ve decided to adopt a more Zen like approach. You know – mind over matter. But which is larger – the mind or the matter? Obviously, the matter has the upper hand (or the lower belly). How to get the mind around all that matter? I think if we shrink the mind and think less about the matter, then the matter will shrink as well. That’s it! JUST DON’T THINK ABOUT IT ! Or pink elephants.

So……………………….whadayathink ? Is weight gain something you grapple with? Should you have that chunk of chocolate cake with or without the ice cream?

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7 Responses to “Losing Weight – A Piece of Cake?”

  1. Fae Maria Says:

    I love chocolete 2 much. Keep up the quality posts

  2. magdalena Says:

    Everyone loves chocolate too much. If there was one piece of chocolate cake left with ten people in the room, all ten would wait for the chance to grab it while the other nine weren’t looking.

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  4. Osvaldo Clausell Says:

    Listen fatso – you have no self-disclpline. If you would just put the ice cream down and get you fat ass to the gym you wouldn’t have a problem. FAT PIG !

  5. magdalena Says:

    The blog is tongue in cheek. You obviously have zero sense of humor, Osvaldo. Ever think of changing your name?

  6. Michael Tabor Says:

    Hi, this is Magdalena’s husband and just to let all you readers out there know, my wife is smoking hot and only she thinks she carries a few extra pounds. She is 55 and honestly one wouldn’t bat an eye if he or she were to tell you that she was 35.

  7. magdalena Says:

    Thanks,Michael. My favorite critic!

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