Growing Concerns

If there is something I know about myself is that I like talking. But if there is something I am certain about myself is that I LOVE talking about my weight.

I used to be slim...boney... Auschwitz-skinny. In grade school I was so skinny that during recess people started offering me food while clutching the shirts around their chests as if it hurt them physically to be in the presence of such an emaciated child. Truth is, I probably just finished a plate of noodle and a few chicken nuggets when they offered me that plate of chicken rice. The right thing I should have done was to say "oh no thank you, I already ate", but I was hungry and I was young and I was hungry...

In high school I was still skinny. Not hey-wanna-see-ribcage skinny but skinny enough that a size S shirt looked like a space suit on me. I actually loved the way I looked in high school. I was slender and had a body of a twink. Puberty just hit  and narcissism was at an all time high - which led to the most sluttacious phase of my life. I also enjoyed making fun of fat people...I still do actually but it feels so hypocritical to do so nowadays.

Then college... I was still a twink in freshman year. But all those amazing american foods... Growing up here where we only have Pizza Hut and it's rip-off brand competition - Shakey's Pizza, as far as pizzas go, I was indifferent to pizzas. In the States, I was introduced to a Willy Wonka world of pizzas. Aside from pizzas, there were pastas and three thousand different fried food stuffs that I was introduced to. In short, I was in for a gastronomical adventure. Mexican food was so good I considered being Mexican at one point in my freshman year. I don't know what the hell is Kung Pao and who the fuck is General Tsao but his chicken dish is orgasmic. I can go on and on about food but my point is, I ATE A LOT. I WAS A PIG. UNASHAMEDLY SO!

I have never used the word jiggle to describe any part of myself until sophomore year. Freshman Thirty-five hit and I found my ass being described by J-ho as jiggly. I was so stressed out by that comment that I went off to eat a chili dog and a bowl of clam chowder. urmmm...clam chowder...

Now I'm at 155lbs. People tell me "you look okay", " what are you talking about, you look fit", "yeah you have a badonk-kadonk but you are not fat" and many other things that are supposed to be comforting. I applaud them for their good intentions. I would be a bit different. If anyone ever complains about being fat to me I only have one of two responses - it'll go along the lines of:

1. Shut up Mary Kate, go eat a cucumber or something so that you can double your weight; or
2. Yep, you're fat.

I want to lose weight so terribly much but I don't know how to do it. It concerns me a lot that I'm gaining weight slowly especially since I also believe that my metabolic rate is declining. Both my parents have been in and out of the hospitals due to diabetes. I feel fat like 75 times a day. And to add salt to my wounds... urmmmmm salt...yum....anyway, to add salt..urmm..salt to my wounds, my closest friends (who all love to ask me to go eat at KFC) have been calling me names. Fat-ass is still acceptable but just this weekend Arif called me nangka. =(

Will I be one of those men who can't see their penis anymore when they stand straight looking down?

I refuse!

A lot is at stake here...urmmmmm steak....

I want to return to my former skinny self.

I don't want the salesgirls to tell me to go for Chinos instead because the slim fit jeans couldn't make it pass my thighs.

I don't want the server to tell me that the restaurant has a low calorie option "in case I'm interested".

I don't want my belt buckle to feel warm throughout the day because my belly warms it up.

I don't want my bed to look like a cushy bathtub.

I don't want some precocious 9 year-old to call me "thunder thighs" because I was in her way at the mall.

I don't wanna be fat. I want to be in shape again. I just don't know how.