Wednesday, March 07, 2007
When I was in college, I was rake-thin, and had a waistline of 23 inches. I was always thin my whole life before that. I was too
thin in fact that when the wind blew, I'd actually get blown away. I decided to eat a lot of bread to gain what I thought was much-needed weight. Here was my daily regimen: every five o'clock after school, I'd go to the nearest bakery, in this case Gold Label Bakeshoppe, and buy three to six cheese de sal, which was then my favorite. I devoured
them. Several weeks later, I ballooned. People would stop me and say, "Hey, you look good." Honestly, I did look good: I was in that magical state when you are young, and is neither too big nor too small. (I was also a gym bunny by then. I was the original metrosexual in those days, and was known around campus as "the guy with the great butt.") When I went to Tokyo in 1997, I lost the weight I gained because: (1)
everything was too expensive, and (2)
that's what you get for eating mostly protein (chicken and sushi) the whole year. Didn't quite notice that though, because everybody else in Tokyo was as rake-thin as me, especially the boys. (And long-haired as well: in my case, however, I only got two haircuts that year, because it was just goddamn expensive.) You never see fat people in Japan. When I came back to Dumaguete, the first things people said were: "You need a haircut" and "You're too refugee-thin." Ouch.
I've eaten a lot since then.Regrettably.
I want to be thin again. Sex is absolutely better when you don't have a gut. Ehehe.
I'll be turning 32 this August. I want to lose 32 pounds by then. Here's wishing me luck.
Labels: health, life
 This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
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