For the record, my weight has been largely unchanged for the past couple of months. I lose a half pound; I gain a pound; I lose two pounds; I gain back a pound and a half.

In many ways, I am happy. I am the thinnest I have been in more than ten years. I'm down some 66.5 pounds since my highest weight ever, and I've taken off 32.5 pounds this year.

Unfortunately, I just saw pictures of me from our conference in Copenhagen, and I think I look horrible. To be fair, they were taken on the last day when I overslept and had about 15 minutes to shower, get dressed, do my hair and make up, and leave. So, I might look better if my hair weren't slicked back in a ponytail and still obviously wet. Or if I'd had time to properly do my makeup.

Still, what mostly looks horrible is my figure. My arms look doughy and my stomach looks flabby. I am really, really unattractive in those photos.

But, of course, just because my weight loss has stopped doesn't mean I'm where I want to be. My goal was 40 pounds for this year and then I wanted to see how much more weight I should lose on top of that.

And, so, I'm going to make this a top priority. I am busy the next two nights (I'm going to a trivia night tonight and tomorrow I have a date with Zak--first one in two and a half weeks), but I am free on Thursday and I will go to the gym after work. There is one only a few blocks from here that I'll start with. I checked it out with Fouad two years ago when he was looking for a place to go. All I really need is some variety of bikes, treadmills, elliptical machines, and step machines. I'm sure they have a decent selection.

And then I will shed these last 8 pounds, set a new goal, and be that much happier when I look in the mirror and at photos.

Edit: Ok, that gym seems to have moved. So I'll have to go in person to check out the old location and the new one. It's really important for me to find something that is within walking distance of work or home; otherwise I'll never go--I discovered this twice now with gyms I went to with Caroline and therefore I'm not going to bother finding a gym with her--she lives too far away. Ok, possibly I can pop by these places tonight or tomorrow during lunch.

I made it through the weekend without crying and with minimal self pity. It really does take a month to get over someone.

My newish friend Lindsey threw a party at her apartment on Saturday. It was a small group and a lot of fun, although her apartment (a shared flat, actually) made me want to move. I have a really big place so it would, in theory, be good for entertaining. But it’s old and not inviting. Plus it needs some maintenance. The thing that bothers me the most is water damage in the WC from what appears to be a leak upstairs. I showed it to the landlord about a year ago and he shrugged. I’ve considered painting over it or covering it with pictures but, for now, it just stays there in all its hideous glory.

I would like to get a new flat, though. One that is small and cute. Although, thinking about all of the hassles involved in moving make me reconsider it. Plus, why go through with moving if I’m going to leave Prague next spring anyway? It’s just that I really hate my apartment. I’ll probably browse some real estate sites, fantasize about moving for a while, and then become too overwhelmed by the hassle of it all.

I gorged myself at the party. There were so few of us that we ended up sitting around the table where all the food was, which made it hard not to keep nibbling all through the night. Somehow, though, I woke up this morning half a pound lighter than I was a week ago. But I’ll wait until tomorrow to record it on my weight tracker. Perhaps I can make it an even pound by then.

Chris and I chatted for somewhere between 6 and 7 hours last night. He initiated the conversation, saying that we should maybe meet if I’m in Vienna next weekend. I told him that I hadn’t confirmed the trip or bought a ticket. Later he said that if I’m there, we should have dinner. I’m fairly certain I will not be there.

The conversation was pleasant and largely flirtatious. He was normal, although making a case for getting back together. He didn’t say it outright but it was pretty damn obvious, claiming that if he had me, he would be amazing and “complete.” He also said that I am amazing and that he misses me.

He said that he has learned a lot about himself and about our relationship and claimed that if we could’ve communicated like we did last night while we were dating, we’d still be together. He actually took most of the blame for that, although when he tried to share some of it by saying that I always misinterpreted what he did as malicious, I couldn’t agree with him. Yes, I contributed to the failure of our relationship but not in that way. Also, I tried to communicate with him while we were dating, but he was too busy and too bored to have those kinds of relationship-saving talks. Plus he always got defensive.

When we went to bed last night—I managed to keep him up 2.5 hours past when he’d normal go to sleep, and he’d said he wanted to go to bed early—he said that, no matter what happened, it was clear that we would, at least, always be “very good friends.” But I’m not sure. I felt good talking to him, but today I question if I’m giving in. He wants to be a pickup artist and to have the love of a woman like me. After last night’s discussion, he knows very well that he has that love. I don’t know how that makes me feel, especially knowing he won’t change for me. I should stay off of Skype for a couple of days and consider it.

I wonder if he woke up with any regrets.

Lost another pound, but I’ll wait to record it. Still, 3.5 pounds since Tuesday. I’m wasting away at a little more than a pound per day. Getting dumped is the greatest diet plan ever.

I cried this morning and actually entertained thoughts that I should apologize to Chris for taking him off my Facebook. I refer you again to our conversation from last night. That is the entire conversation, except for a few lines I snipped out at the beginning where I told him I couldn’t talk now because I was on the phone with my bank. But I didn’t even take out my “hahahaha,” which is something I do when I am really pissed and makes me look childish.

But even me at my worst--saying “fuck you” and “go to hell"--doesn't make me come off as the bigger jerk in that conversation.

The problem, I guess, is that I always have to accept what is given to me. And this guy, asshole that he is, wants to be my friend. Who am I to be picky about friends?

Plus I invested 11 months of my life spending time with him, getting to know him, and loving him. How can I cut that person out of my life completely?

I guess I can tell myself that maybe one day, I won’t have to. That one day, we could be friends. But for now, it is not a good idea. I don’t want to see him post status updates about “getting it on” (he had something like that yesterday) or the horrible catchphrase that he used to high five one of his wingmen with before they went out to find women: “time to fuck.” I don’t want to see him post about going to “Inglorious Basterds,” which we planned for months to see together. I don’t want to see him post about anything that we were going to do together.

And you know what? I don’t have to.

Nearly a year ago, Caroline had a falling out with her former roommates when she moved out and they disagreed about some of the terms of the contract. She wanted to take them off of her Facebook, because seeing them on there enraged her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It would have been mean. And, seriously, who doesn’t think that unfriending someone is just a bit childish? But why do we do things that are hurtful to ourselves just to seem nice to others?

There were many times that I wanted David off of my list but just avoided looking at my newsfeed instead. He should’ve gone. And I will do everything in my power to avoid his profile in the coming days because there will surely be photos from his farewell party that I wasn’t invited to, and I don’t want to see them.

In a way, it’s good that I am losing both David and Chris at the same time. The pain is immeasurable but at least it’ll be over, for both of them, in a few weeks or so. And I can get on with my life.

Speaking of getting on with my life, I have booked flights to London for next week. I’m going to spend a couple of days getting rip roaring drunk with Kev and seeing a city that I’ve always wanted to see. There will still be a million things in London that I’ll want to see and will need to return to see, but I can’t turn down the invitation. I need a friend, and he’s offered his friendship to me for three glorious days. That’ll take my mind off of things for a while.

Maybe I’ll even bump into David at the airport as he’s heading to Brussels. Or maybe I won’t hear from him again until I post photos to Facebook in a few months and I look thin. Seriously, I have not weighed what I weighed since I was 16. I’m still fat, and there’s nothing wrong with being fat, of course, but I feel like I’m conquering something that I have struggled with for my whole life. It makes me feel good about something, at least.

I finally lost a pound.




That was a long time coming, but it makes me hopeful that I am back on track. It's 28.5 pounds this year and a total of 62.5 since my all-time high.

Even though I still have a long way to go before I'm "thin," I am still in awe of how much weight I've lost. I am curious to go back to the US and try on clothes to see what size I am. I think I will try to make it back home for Christmas this year.

Yesterday, David emailed me to say that he liked my pool pictures and to ask how I am and how things are with Chris. I wrote him a fairly long response to tell him that Chris and I are supposed to have a relationship talk today, but that I don't really know why because he and I are finished. I wrote that it's time for me to be with a man who is more similar to me and who wants roughly the same things that I want out of life.

He responded three minutes later to ask me what I want out of life. Smiley face.

It made me feel giddy, like I'm about to get an invitation to move with him to Dubai. But I haven't heard from him since. Not too surprising since I responded to him around 6:30 and he was probably headed out for dinner and a night on the town. He said he has a lot of people he wants to see before he leaves. Of course, who knows what he's up to today?

I really don't know what's going to happen. If he invited me to move with him, I would strongly consider it. It's weird to think that he could influence a huge change in my life or he could just disappear and I'd never see him again. I have another week or so to find out.

Possibly, he will play it safe and not say anything before he leaves and wait until I make good on my promise to visit him and he settles in before asking me to join him.

Or maybe I'm still in my deluded fantasy world. But it does make losing Chris a lot easier to take when I think of David. And when David is gone, I hope I have something or someone else to help me get over the loss.

Wah, wah, wah, I know. September should usher in a whole new era. Let me mourn for now.

I forgot to write that yesterday, Kosta (who is the guy I dated for a couple of weeks last year, even though he told me on our first date that I should lose 30 pounds, even though he was morbidly obese, and who was generally a real douchebag) had a status update on Facebook that made me want to claw my eyes out:

Kosta .. sees a new path layed infront. A long jorney will begin,obsitcles awaiting, ups and downs will go in circle..and after all, is it not the jorney of life that matters and not the destianation?..it is time to dust off the good old walking booths and follow the moonlight shining upon..

I shouldn't be making fun of anyone else's enlightenment, and he is a smart guy, but this makes him sound like such a dumbass.

Someone responded, "woww now you have become a philosopher like aristotle."

I really hope that was sarcasm but I doubt it.

David actually did miss his first flight from London on Saturday the 25th, because he was late. He missed the second on Monday the 27th because he went to the wrong airport. He returned to Prague on Tuesday morning and emailed me shortly after, asking to come over to my apartment that night. He was hoping that I would sleep with him. Obviously. I told him I only had time to meet for drinks, and he said we should probably meet later in the week then. I said something like, “Surely you still want to see me tonight, even if it’s brief,” and he agreed, telling me he was going for dinner at 7 and would be free by around 9. At 8:40, he sent me a text message that said, “Going to bed. Sweet dreams.”

I wrote back to hint that that was a pity, because I’d freed up my evening for him and would have more time. You know, hint, hint. He took my bait and said he was only on his way home and could pop by my place after all. I said, “No, no, you’re tired.” A few more messages like this flew by and I suggested meeting on Thursday, not really sure if I would see him, and we texted each other good night.

I spent the next couple of days miffed and cried about it, actually, that this was my worth to him. I cancelled on him on Thursday. He got defensive. I got apologetic, and for the first time ever, attempted to explain that I have feelings for him. He responded that this was “touching,” and that he likes me too, and we agreed to meet Saturday afternoon to talk. He said he’d contact me Saturday morning or early afternoon to plan the details.

By 3 pm on Saturday, he had not contacted me, and I was once again miffed. I texted him, all too politely, really, saying, “Are you still free this afternoon or did you have a change of plans?” He wrote back that he’d “probably” still be free and would write to me “in a bit.” I waited for what must’ve been close to an hour and considered texting mean but honest things about how he’d clearly found a better way to spend his day and to just forget it. But after that hour (or so), he wrote to say he was free and had no plans for the rest of the day, so I should come to his apartment a bit later.

We agreed on 7:00. I arrived a few minutes early, and he came downstairs to get me, looking at me out of one eye. I asked him if he was ok, and he said he’d been asleep. He placed a hand on my back to escort me upstairs. When we got to his apartment, he fell back into bed and closed his eyes and I sat across the room from him, expectantly. We were going to talk, I thought, but he had already figured out how to work the situation—I was too polite to argue with him about everything that is wrong in our friendship when he seemed to be going back to sleep. Polite small talk followed, and then he asked if I wanted to come sit beside him in his bed. I came over and sat on the edge of the bed, and he sat up immediately and began telling me that I looked really good, and I knew I had been duped…

We did talk, though. He is leaving Prague, and this time it seems a certainty. He will leave at the end of the month. We will not move in together; we will not move to another country together; it would seem that everything is over.

I’m guessing it doesn’t make sense for him now. Either it’s because I’m still not thin enough or because his new destination is Brussels, which is a French-speaking city (mostly). If he went to Bermuda or Canada or the US or even stayed in Prague, it would make sense to date a native English speaker. But it doesn’t make much sense to take a non-French speaker to Brussels. He did begin the conversation by asking me when I wanted to leave Prague and he asked later where I thought I would go after. I mean, maybe I should’ve said that I wanted to go with him or that I could see myself happy in Brussels, but after he chose not to see me on Tuesday, it didn’t feel like it was time to plan a future. It felt like it was time to end things.

I still invited him to join my hash group on Sunday—we took paddleboats out on the river. He didn’t join us, though; I knew he wouldn’t. We have never socialized with each other’s groups of friends.

He has since emailed me, poked me on Facebook, and used a Facebook application to say that he “likes” me. But there were also photos of him posted from a party he was at on Friday, and he seems to be having a wonderful time, chatting up the beautiful girls. It made me jealous and sad and grateful that he’s leaving.

I truly did like him. Very much. And I am sad and will be for a while. There’s that part of me that still thinks “maybe,” like maybe I could meet up with him in a few months in Brussels, when I am thinner and can give proper notice at my job. When he realizes all the more how amazing I am.

But I think that maybe he just represented a sort of person and lifestyle that I’ve always been envious of. His attention meant something to me, because people like him don’t often take notice of people like me. And it escalated from a fling to the possibility of a long-term relationship. But then he changed his mind, I guess. I mean, he didn’t come out and say anything about our future—nothing about how we’d stay in touch or how he’d miss me or how I should come with him. It’s just floating out there, unspoken.

Don’t worry, though. I won’t chase after him. Every time I see a beautiful, skinny girl on the street (and, believe me, this is often), I think of him and how that is the kind of girl he wants for himself. I’m the thinnest I have been in more than 10 years, and I still feel terrible about my body. It’s not entirely his fault, of course, but he may not have wanted to get a drink with me on Tuesday because he doesn’t want to be seen in public with me. I can’t tell you how terrible that feels. On the one hand, he offered to live with me and on the other, he didn’t want anyone to know that I existed in his life. This will weigh on me for a very long time. Whether the Brussels deal falls through or I never see him again, he has made one of the strongest impacts on my life of anyone I’ve ever met. That’s not always a good thing.

No weight loss to report this week, but I’m ok with that. I’ve maintained my previous weight loss, and I’ll pledge a better week to come.

Huge fight with Chris at the train station on Friday. He arrived with the intent of dumping me and then leaving, but he broke down and sobbed in my arms. He said it was the first time he had cried in 15 years, and I guess he was angry at me that he cried so what followed was a list of everything he hates about me. The first item on this list was my lack of punctuality, which segued into how I only care about myself. Next, he said that it pisses him off that I am always so sad. He said I am humorless and no fun. He can’t joke around me, he said, because I am always whining and overly sensitive.

But what counts as a joke for him? Later, he touched my stomach and asked if I was pregnant. And then when I didn’t laugh, he said, “See what I mean?” Hilarious.

Actually, my weight was the final item on the list, although he doesn’t hate that I’m fat. He doesn’t care what I weigh, but I guess it annoys him that I’m trying to lose weight when I have such poor eating habits or something like this. He said that the reason I am bigger than other women is not because I eat too much but because I eat such unhealthy foods. He said I would be hotter if I were 25 kilograms lighter (but he wouldn’t mind if I were 20 kilograms heavier). 25 kilograms is 55 pounds.

Anyway, I convinced Chris to spend the night. In the morning, he regretted what happened the night before and decided to stay through to Sunday evening. We are still together.

David emailed me on Saturday that he “missed” his flight back from London, which probably means that he changed his mind and wanted to stay longer. He emailed me today to say that he is back and asked when we can meet again, suggesting tonight.

I’m cutting this short, because I feel sad. Actually, I wonder how much of the sadness that pisses off Chris is because of him. I observed this when I took him to the train station on Sunday. He was talking about how the world will end or something dark, and I realized that my sadness around him could be a reaction and not my depression. So many things he thinks and says make me hate the world.

On another note, Caroline returns today from a month in the US. We should have lunch together tomorrow so I can return her keys after taking care of her cat and watering her plants. Lugging a huge bag of kitty litter up a hill yesterday, I thought that I probably don’t ever want another pet. And possibly not a child. I’m not sure I can handle someone else relying on me.

…Which is good, because, if I stay with Chris, there will be no children. He has scheduled a vasectomy for August.

In regards to all the comments on yesterday’s post, I now feel like I finally, finally understand the point that so many of you have been trying to make for…years now? And last night, I was thinking I would break up with Chris and have some alone time, but I decided not to be hasty and at least sleep on it.

I woke up to an email from David, just writing to update me on the exam he’s in London to take and to ask how I am doing. And it made me feel good to know he was thinking of me.

Today, I talked briefly to my friend Kev, the hasher I met in the Netherlands and who lives in Belgium (although he’s currently in London visiting his family). He reiterated what he said to me in a call last Friday, which was what most of you said: do NOT date David. He tried to get me to promise that I won't, but I wouldn’t lie and just said that I don’t know yet what I will do.

I will admit that my self esteem is low and my sense of self is shitty. I will admit that there are men out there who will love me as I am. I will admit that I have made some bad choices. But, goddammit. 90% of the time that I am with David, I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. I’m not sure if I’ve ever met another person whose company I enjoy more. Ok, probably. But I’m hard pressed to come up with who that is. I know it’s unhealthy and if I move forward with him, it’ll end badly, but that doesn’t make me want him any less.

I have never wanted to be with someone for as long as I have wanted him and then actually ended up with that person (either I’ve gotten my man quickly or never at all). It’s weird to think that I would turn him away.

And, no, this does not mean that my mind is made up. Far from it. I still love Chris. And I have spent large portions of the last couple of days (and months, really) thinking about how David hasn’t introduced me to his friends or invited me to his parties or really taken me out, because, presumably, he’s embarrassed to be seen with me. And I try to equate that with other people in my life who have embarrassed me even though I love them, whether it’s dorky members of my family or people who I have dated—I was embarrassed by Fouad’s horrible grasp of the English language, for instance, and, yes, I was even embarrassed by how obese Kosta was. Ironically, he told me that I ought to lose weight; I said nothing about how large he was, and we dated less than a month.

Anyway, I’m not an idiot, and I have heard all of your messages loud and clear. And I want to make all of you proud of me by being an independent woman, but I can’t make promises yet.

And now, for the weight loss stuff. I’m down another two and a half pounds this week. That makes 27.5 pounds since restarting my diet this year, and 61.5 (wow!) since my highest weight.

A treasure chest moving towards a treasure chest? Sure, why not?

I’m finally back on track with the weight loss, and I’m down 2.5 pounds. I knew that having a weekend alone would produce good results.

So that’s 57 pounds lost since my highest weight, and 23 since restarting the diet earlier this year.

(I’m a little bored with the pies, although you can barely see the snail here. Oh, well.)

I lost 3.5 pounds this past week, so I’m back on track. That’s 18.5 pounds since I restarted my diet this year and a total of 52.5 pounds since my highest weight. I think this may be the lowest weight I’ve been at since packing on the pounds my junior year of high school.

This morning, I put on a pair of pants that I bought at Old Navy in August 2007. When I bought them, I didn’t try them on at the store because they were only $7, and I thought I knew my size but they were awfully tight so I never wore them. They fit perfectly now. And, of course, be aware that August 2007 was when I had lost 40-some pounds on my last diet. So I’ve passed my low from before.

I think I may put up some before and after photos (not so much an “after” as “in progress,” but still), and I’ll even do what no one ever does when they’re dieting: I’ll post flattering befores and unflattering afters, so that you can see that even at my best, I didn’t look nearly as good as I do now at my worst. Is that terrible of me to say? Whatever, it’s true. And if I did unflattering befores and flattering afters, you’d swear I lost 100 pounds. The difference is quite something.

David emailed me that he will be back in Prague on Thursday. I doubt I’ll see him before I take a three-day weekend in Vienna to be with Chris, but I’ll certainly see him when I’m back and I’m curious to know if he can tell how much I’ve lost. It’s only 8.5 pounds since he last saw me so probably not, but Chris has noticed a difference.

I talked to Leon on Skype and he wondered if the reason I’m losing weight so much faster this time is because of the lure of David’s love. Actually, it isn’t. I’m pretty convinced at this point that he doesn’t get to have me, thin or fat. But I feel like I accepted a challenge from him and I want to show him that I can do it. I want to lose these 40 pounds this year, so that I don’t look like a total failure. Dieting is a lot easier to spoil when you keep it to yourself but once you proclaim your intentions, you want to prove that you can do it. All goals are that way, and David will see that I’ve got what it takes to follow through. Apparently, what’s motivating me isn’t really his love; it’s his respect and approval. Also, my own. Oh, and the thought that if I lose the weight, I will have no more excuses for why people don’t take to me and aren’t attracted to me and why life is hard. I’m taking away my own safety net.

I am cutting out a boring introduction in which I explain why I haven't written lately. Who cares? I've been busy, and now I finally have the time to write about my trip to the Netherlands, which was amazing.

It was a hash weekend, and I have written about these before, but it’s basically an excuse for a bunch of zany people to get together and get drunk while doing running/walking trails and generally having a good time. I did one of these weekends before, and that’s how I met Dirk. That was the last time I did one: April 2006. It was ok. This time? I loved it.

We were in bungalows near the beach, and I went with Caroline. Leslie was supposed to go too and flew into Amsterdam with us, but she had a man waiting for her at the airport there. They’d been chatting on the internet and she ended up spending the weekend with him. She phoned me a few times during the weekend to check in and I told her to have a blast. I think she felt guilty for ditching the weekend we’d planned to have but I couldn’t blame her one bit. I’d have done the same, and I know she had a great time.

Anyway, here’s me and Caroline on the first day, on the beach:



Dirk was there too. We spent a fair amount of time together, but I managed to meet a bunch of new people too, which was nice.

My favorite was this fellow, who dressed as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde at the costume party on Saturday night:



His name is Kev, and he’s a Brit who lives in Belgium. We’ve chatted a lot since I got back but don’t get the wrong idea: he is very happily married. And hilarious, which is part of what drew me to him.

Anyway, I think that a big reason why I enjoyed the weekend so much was because I received a lot of attention from men. Nothing happened, so, again I tell you not to get the wrong idea, but I think I was among the more attractive people there. When I told this to my therapist, I think he had trouble believing me. Fair enough. I’m no great beauty and this is Prague, where all the women are thin and gorgeous. But at this party weekend, most of the women were older and less likely to scrape on gobs of makeup to go on a hike. Plus, I arrived at Saturday’s costume party with my tits hanging out of my dress, so, any men who may not have noticed me the day before certainly did that night:



(It was also at the costume party that Dirk told me I was clearly the prettiest woman there but I wouldn’t go that far. I know that wasn’t the case but I was possibly the easiest to approach.)

And so the men flocked to me. Well, some of them. And it was mostly quite innocent.

At the after party of Saturday’s costume party, a couple dozen of us gathered in the living room of one of the bungalows and I plopped my chair down in front of a man who simply started massaging me (just my shoulders). Which was fantastic! And then another man decided that he, too, would massage me. And then another. And another.

And at least two men were trailing me like dogs. One asked me, at this after party, to come to his room (he gave me specific instructions) and surprise him. He said he’d have no problem kicking out his roommate. The following morning, he asked me if I had gotten laid, and I said no. He was really shocked how I could have so much male attention and not do anything. But I wasn’t interested (and I think I’ve almost managed to close my relationship again, so why would I muck that up?).

Anyway, what was so interesting about it all was that I had been talking to my therapist about how I think my life would be so much better if I were thin and beautiful. And then I felt like I got to experience it. Ok, still not thin but certainly attractive to many (who were drunk, but I didn’t mind). And what did I learn? I learned that I was right. Life is better when you’re attractive.

My therapist insisted that there was more to it—that the men were flocking to me for other reasons and so I humored him and I talked about this thing that Chris refers to as a “bitch shield,” which is that front that a lot of women put up to keep men they are uninterested in at bay. He has told me that I don’t have this, and he’s right. I am very approachable. I’m quiet, so I have to be approached--I rarely do the approaching. But men who buy me drinks in bars or hit on me on the street will get my attention and a smile.

And so I offered that some of these men at the hash are perhaps used to getting a bitch shield and they flocked to me because I didn’t have one. I offered friendliness. And the relatively small selection of people (120 or so over the course of three days) meant that it was likely that they’d all at least talk to me at one point.

It’s an idea. Whatever it was, I really enjoyed the attention. It was great.

It has been useful to my friendship with Dirk as well. He wants me to visit him in July. I doubt very much that it will happen but he at least had one of those very drunk moments where he told me what a gift I am in his life. I love those moments so much.

And I’ve made a great friend in Kev, who I hope to see at one of the next hash weekends I attend. Hopefully that’ll be some time this year, but it is an expensive hobby to travel around to different countries for these weekends, so we’ll just have to see. Besides, I think it was mostly luck that I happened to be one of the more attractive hashers in the Netherlands. The stars will probably never align like that again.

I feel rather sad today. It doesn’t help that I have no weight loss to report. I realize that this was coming, because I did post five straight weeks of losses but it’s still disappointing.

Fortunately, this does not yet mean that I will bury my face in a banana cream pie, possibly because I would be hard pressed to find a banana cream pie in Prague. No, I will go to the gym tonight. And I will watch what I’m eating a bit better. I may even crack open the book that David recommended. I still haven’t touched it, largely because I know what the idea of the diet is (eat whole grains and unprocessed foods) and I feel like I won’t learn anything new. That’s stupid, of course, but it is nonetheless the reason I haven’t bothered with it.

I also have been thinking about my problem with food. There was a doctor/dietitian on last week’s Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me and he was talking about food addiction and describing how diets are only temporary fixes because we’re now programmed to crave foods that are unhealthy, and, basically, we need to be reprogrammed to fix the problem. Or something. I mean, this was a comedy show, so I didn’t get a lot of information but I obviously saw myself in what he described. I love food; I crave it. I actually watched Supersize Me and got hungry for McDonald’s; I think about food all the time. I really have a problem.

So, actually, perhaps I’ll look at David’s book, but it’s this dietitian’s book that I truly want to read. I know, it sounds like I’ve possibly been sold on a fad, but he wasn’t selling a diet. It’s not a book about how to fix a problem, as far as I could tell. It’s a book about the problem itself, and I’d just like to know more.

Going to the gym is helpful with this, because it enables me to eat a bit more of what I want, but still, the diet can’t solve everything. I cannot stop thinking about food. And I will myself to not eat and to eat better but every now and then, I find myself with that opportunity to scarf down something that no one should ever eat, and it fills me with warm, positive feelings.

Sigh. I’ll keep at it. Even if I have moments of weakness, if I don’t stop completely and keep exercising, I can still take off the next 25 pounds. It just may take a bit longer with my occasional self sabotage.

It's another busy week, so I hope to write an update this weekend or next week. I still would like to write about my trip to the Netherlands. I made a new friend there with whom I have communicated in some capacity (either texts, IMs, emails, or phone calls) every day since my return.

But, for now, it's just a diet update.

I'm at the 49 pound mark, which means that I'm very close to being the lightest of my adult life. It's a bit sad that I'm still overweight, but I'm proud of myself for making it through a three-day weekend with Chris and still losing weight this week.

I'm down 1.4 pounds or a total of 15 since I started dieting earlier this year.




More content coming as soon as I have time.

I am very busy at work and with everything else right now, but I wanted to write today because it’s my weigh-in day. I lost almost 3 and a half pounds this week, which means that I’m about to be the lowest weight I've been in my adult life. In other words, I'm 47.4 pounds lighter than my highest weight or 13.4 lighter since I restarted my diet this year.




I got a ton of exercise over the weekend in the Netherlands, so that accounts for some of this, but I’ve been good about food as well. Dirk said I looked really good, and he could tell I’d lost weight, so that was nice.

The weekend was absolutely amazing. I met some really cool people, particularly a British guy who I’m chatting with right now. We exchanged numbers and every possible contact detail and he called me yesterday so perhaps I have a nice new friend. I’ll write more about him and several other great people I met or caught up with and also share some photos. I’m just so damn busy with work and it’s the second four-day week in a row, which is great, but that means that Chris is coming here on Thursday evening so I need to cleeeeean and I have one less day to do it. Yikes.

I only lost one pound this week, which is disappointing, but at least it’s a loss. I made a few poor food choices while I was with Chris in Vienna, although those choices mostly had to do with cost and convenience. I’m going to have to work that out.

Last week, I received the book by the French dietitian that David recommended but I have yet to look at it. I know, though, that the concept is based on avoiding processed foods. This is difficult for me, because almost everything I crave is processed, but I could give it a try. I’m going to go to a nearby BIO store later today to see if they have wholegrain pasta since my current craving is noodles and tomato sauce. Probably not going to find that in the French dietician’s book but perhaps Michel and I can compromise for tonight.

I went to the gym last night and also worked out with the personal trainer last Thursday. I was in pain all weekend from lunges and steps. I’m going to have to take it easy on the legs, especially before I go to the Netherlands on Friday. I’m going to be doing at least one long hiking trail while I’m there and I don’t want to show up barely able to walk.

Also, this past weekend with Chris was amazing. I think that maybe he’s just a bit lost about some of his ideas, but it’s very clear that he loves me very much. He was a sweetheart. I felt very in love and secure with him. My fears about the open relationship are almost all gone; it sort of seems shelved at the moment, and I wonder if I can get him back on my side. At any rate, it has briefly ceased to be a concern. I’m now back to fretting about not knowing German and wondering how I could ever move to Vienna.

I talked to my friend Mike Sunday evening, and he said that I shouldn't worry about moving to Vienna until I sort out my trust issues. He’s right. My German speaking skills aren't that important at the moment.

Still, I would not pass up a free copy of Rosetta Stone.

And look who’s a quarter of the way to her new goal!

I weighed myself this morning and I’m down another pound and a half, but I have to maintain that this weekend while I’m in Vienna in order to add it to my “pie” chart. (No, I could not resist the pun.)

I half-assedly broke up with Chris this morning about a sofa. Ok, not really about a sofa but about the fact that he’s going to move into a tiny one-room apartment and, while that’s good for him financially, it shows that it will take until May 2010 before he and I can cohabitate. I know, you’re all thinking, “Why would you want to live with him, Kate?” Well, I don’t want to now but I want the option of it. His current apartment is huge and would easily fit me. Now he’s moving into a new bachelor pad and asking me to help him pick out furniture for it, and it’s a very real indicator that we are so far from what I want. If not with him, then with someone.

This morning I spent an hour with my therapist discussing conventional beauty and how I think I’ll be more likely to attract a respectful mate when I am thin because I’ll see more value in myself. I think my therapist respects my opinions, which I like. John said that I pay a therapist to listen to me and give me the reaction that I want instead of confiding in a friend, which I think is a valid point, but when it comes to my thoughts on beauty and body image, I know that what I say can be compelling: I’ve spent almost 20 years of my life thinking about it.

I told Chris that I want to be able to date (and not just sleep with) other people in our open relationship. That is the band-aid on our gaping gash of a relationship. He doesn’t want this, but gave me a tentative yes so that I will visit him this weekend. Anything to make me happy enough to not leave him.

I don’t want to be cruel to him. It’s just so hard for me; I hate the current situation but I want to be with him, so I break up and then patch things back up immediately. I told both him and Caroline that I think I’m going through the same phase that I had with Fouad—after he cheated and before I could finally break up with him. I feel like the relationship is over but I’m not strong enough to end it.

The most important difference, though, is that, despite his flaws, Chris is someone I could spend my life with. We’re in love and our personalities and interests mesh well; we just have very different ideas of relationships. If that could be fixed or a compromise reached, the relationship could be saved. I just don’t know if that will happen.

David has not responded to my email. I was pretty annoyed about this earlier because I think it signifies that he and I haven’t come along as far as I thought we had. But it’s good for me, because it makes him appear less god-like, and I need that kind of reminder.

Ideally, then, I keep seeing my therapist, working out, dieting, and becoming a better, healthier person. And in a few months, maybe I can find someone who will love me for me. Or Chris and I will have patched up our relationship with more than band-aids. Or David will finally be as responsive as I’d like, but even I know that almost certainly can’t go well.

I know this is obvious to anyone who has read my blog in the last ten months, but I have feelings for David. Strong feelings. I have tried many times to explain these feelings, especially when his disregard for me is as obvious as my affection for him, but the best I can offer is that he is charming, sweet, handsome, smart, and charismatic. When I have his attention, I feel like the luckiest person in the world. He’s captivating.

If it’s necessary, I can contrast this with the way that Chris makes me feel, which is also, typically, wonderful. Chris makes me feel warm and protected and loved. He makes me feel secure, at home, and comfortable. But not too comfortable. Not the comfort that diminishes passion; the kind that makes me think I am so compatible with him that he could be in my life forever.

Two very different men, and I feel very strongly about both. Both have failed to treat me very well, though. Even David’s admission of interest in me came at the price of what? 40 pounds? 50 pounds? And that’s not pounds sterling. That’s hours at the gym and thinking lustfully about Kit Kats I can't have.

In regards to that, I thought about taking sayvandalay’s advice, losing all the weight, and then saying “Fuck you” to both men. It’s true that I tolerate being treated like shit because I think that my weight (and depression and many things about me) require tolerance of their own. Nobody’s perfect.

But my feelings for David right now are almost unbearably strong, especially for someone who isn’t reciprocating my feelings.

I saw him last night, and I had a nice time. He was actually much more affectionate than he has been in the past. There were noticeable changes in the way that he casually touched me and, when he received a text message and had to answer it, he actually showed me the message and explained why he had to write back at that moment. When he had a cigarette, he asked if I minded (that’s not new) and if I would like for him to quit (I told him that 2 cigarettes a day is hardly a concern).

But there were a couple of moments when he exhaled audibly or began to speak, and I somehow felt primed for him to say something magical about how much he likes (or more than likes) me. Obviously he didn’t, and today I’ve been feeling rather anxious, as though I have these leftover feelings from an entire evening of anticipation.

And so today I did something ballsy and asked him on a date. More than hanging out. A date, and I even wrote in my invitation that I’m not sure if I’m supposed to wait a couple of months before I ask him out. This was my reference to the weight-loss pact. I also wrote about a few other things and tried not to be too wordy.

He responded two minutes later to thank me for writing and to say that he’d have to respond to everything later, which I sort of thought seemed dismissive, but he never used to do that. He used to just wait hours (or days) to respond. But then again, that’s when we were corresponding via Facebook message. We now use email, so perhaps he ignored my Facebook messages until he had a chance to log in and this is his customary I’m-at-work response. So I guess I can’t make anything out of it.

[EDIT at 16:59: Also, there's no way he could've read my email in 2 minutes because it was too long and he's not a native English speaker so I think he has to look up some of my slang. So he must've just seen the email, maybe glanced at it to see that it wasn't something that required urgent consideration and then responded that he'd look at it later.]

But ever since he said he’d date me, he has been in my thoughts. Maybe if he rejects my proposal for a date until I’m thin enough to properly date, I will come back down to Earth. If he’s really interested in me, shouldn’t the promise of weight loss combined with notable progress be enough? Or do I have to squeeze into a size 8 first?

And if I seem unfaithful to Chris in this, I consider that I’m playing by the rules of the open relationship. I even asked him yesterday if it might be best to downgrade our relationship to friends (with benefits, possibly, because Lord knows he frets about getting laid!), so that I can search for someone who wants what I want. He made some analogy about chewing gum that, in retrospect, was really a brilliant way for him to take my most recent attempt to either force a change in our relationship or dump him and turn it into an opportunity for him to say, “Aww, Kate. You cause so many problems in our relationship. You’re lucky that I’m willing to give this another chance.” But, at the time, I wasn’t able to realize how manipulative it was because I was late to meet David.

Last night, Caroline and I worked out for 90 minutes with a personal trainer. It cost us each about $15, which isn’t too expensive for a one time event but is way too much to pay for a regular workout. Our goal was to have him establish a workout for us and train us on all of the weight machines and then we’d be more competent on our own.

…But the trainer convinced us to meet him again on Thursday, so we’ll have one more 90 minute session and then try to do his routine on our own and possibly meet with him again in a couple of months.

Of course, a part of me would kind of like to continue with the personal trainer.

1. It was fun. I’m not sure how to explain it but I had a really good time and the 90 minutes flew by.

2. It made me feel like I was actually making progress instead of fumbling through a workout and not really knowing what I was doing.

3. It’s a good investment. Is there a better thing to spend money on than my health?

4. It forces accountability. He would encourage me to push myself harder than I would on my own and to actually go to the gym when I wouldn’t want to because I’d have an appointment. Presumably, anyway.

But, after Thursday, I will move forward on my own. If I fail to progress, then I will try to schedule another appointment with him. And I’m so glad that Caroline did this with me because I’d never do it on my own.

And now, it’s pie time. I lost 1.5 pounds this week, which is 9 pounds since I restarted my diet this year and a total of 43 pounds since my high.

Leon emailed me over the weekend and also noted in his blog that Chester died. I was saddened by the news, but it’s been almost two years since I moved to Prague and, as Leon wrote, Chester really ceased being mine when I developed an allergy to the guinea pigs, so I feel pretty detached from it. You should read his post about it, but I’m writing about it because I still loved those pigs.

It seems heartless to write about anything else, but I want to address the concerns that I’ve started my latest diet for the wrong reason. Rest assured that I can see your point of view, and I am trying hard not to expect anything from David. Quite honestly, I can’t imagine losing enough weight for him to consider me dateable. The next time that he and I talk, I may just ask him how much weight he foresees me losing, but, even without asking, I can imagine that his idea would have me at least 50 pounds lighter (even if he doesn’t realize that’s just how much it needs to be), and even if I lost the completely unrealistic 2 pounds a week, that’d take me 6 months. And that wouldn’t leave much time for dating, as he’s planning to leave Prague at the end of the year—that came up in the diet conversation:

He said, “If you lost some weight, I’d like for you to be my girlfriend,” and then asked something like, “Does that excite you?”

My response was to ask for the logistics, because I thought he was leaving Prague in a couple of months. He said he plans to extend his stay until the end of 2009, if he can continue to keep his free apartment. Still, though, it’s going to take me too long.

Anyway, I don’t think that my mistake in this matter is that I am improperly motivated. Anything that will excite me about exercising and losing weight is a good thing. It’s sort of like the idea that a good deed done for the wrong reason is still a good deed. No, what’s misguided about this is that I have already felt my prior attachment to David returning, and it’s worrisome. He’s almost mine, but not quite; I do one thing, and he could be mine. But he’s still considering himself single (hell, I still have a boyfriend), and, until I’ve dropped an enormous amount of weight, he’ll probably still pursue other women. (And I have noted that his revelation about my date-ability came right after I told him that I’m in an open relationship, and I have a feeling that he will want that same arrangement for himself, so dating David probably wouldn’t be an improvement on my current situation.)

I open myself up to get hurt, but I am also motivated and remembering all those times in my life that I thought that the only reason I was undesirable was my weight. I am full of flaws but people are more forgiving of those things if you’re thin and beautiful. Why can’t I just do this one thing that I’ve wanted so much and for so long?

I ordered one of the books that David suggested, but it’ll take a while to arrive, so I looked for random diet books in a second-hand English bookshop today during my lunch but didn’t find any. I made a doctor’s appointment for Friday morning and I will ask if I can be referred to a dietician and ask about testing my thyroid (like she wanted to do months before, because I think it was enlarged). And I’m going to a new gym today with Caroline.

This all could flop; almost every time I’ve set out to lose weight, I’ve lost motivation and given in to my slothful, gluttonous tendencies. But this time, I really want it. I just have to be able to stick to it even if David realizes that he can have the hot, thin girlfriend without going through all of this. If that happens, my natural inclination would probably be to bury my face in a piece of meringue pie.

Ok, a whole pie. Several pies. But perhaps I can use his support and motivation and come out of this with someone who loves me for me, at any size. Actually, Chris is that kind of guy. Maybe if I lose some weight and he betters himself as he thinks he can with this open relationship, we’ll come out of this as a happier, closer couple.

But, the most likely outcome is that I’ll lose 10 pounds and give up. David will replace me and I’ll be devastated. And I will finally be fed up enough with Chris to find some other European putz to pass the time with.

I lost two pounds this past week. I’m pleased, but I haven’t expended a lot of effort so far. It’s time for me to really start, and so I’m going to order one of the diet books that David recommended and also see a nutritionist and/or have my thyroid tested, which the last doctor I saw wanted to do but never did.

Other than that, I’m just calorie counting and trying to eat less, which is how I lost almost 50 pounds before.

Anyway, the weekend with Chris was very nice, but I’m sort of putting my relationship with him on the back burner in terms of how much thought and emotion it receives. This is partially because I somewhat feel he’s done the same (he was so affectionate this weekend that it’s hard to see it that way but his recent decision certainly suggests it) and partially because I spent a lot of the weekend reliving that moment when David said that he’d like to have (a thinner) me as his girlfriend.

I saw him yesterday after I took Chris to the train station and after having dinner with John (which was a pleasant experience but I think that my friendship with John is ending, although I’ve thought that at least a dozen times already). David and I talked about many things, but one of those things was, of course, my diet. I think he’s going to need constant affirmation that I am dieting, and I’ve already envisioned him swatting food out of my hands. I hope he doesn’t get terribly pissed if I fail. Or when I decide to stop. I’m curious how thin he thinks I will or should get.

Anyway, this morning, he sent me a rather long email (for him), including the following:

As for the diet, it is courageous from you to take it on. It will require a lot of strength, sacrifices and efforts. For example, I think it is a good thing to do it during the summer, because it means less clothes to buy for each steps you will reach in terms of body shape. I will be here to help and support. No more wine or stuff to eat at my place when you are there. I will behave. Also, go see that doctor, it can only be a good thing.

I like the thought that I will have this friend supporting me on the diet. His motivation is that he could get a hot girlfriend at the end of it—one who he already knows he’s compatible with. My motivation is more affection, attention, and validation from him. It’s certainly fitting that this is happening at the same time that Chris has decided to see other people. I barely feel guilty at all.

Anyway, let’s bring on the pies. That’s 7.5 pounds since I restarted my diet and a total of 41.5 since my highest.