Food Humiliation

Posts have been rare these days while this writer attempts to complete the never-ending art project with a deadline of this weekend. That's all that will be said about that.

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In other news, I have been seeing a trainer at the gym for the past three weeks in an attempt to motivate my ever-slowing-down lazy self. I used to be intimidated by the weight machines, but now I actually know how to use them. This is not to say that I exercise as much as I used to--my days of spending literally 2 to 5 hours, 3 to 5 days a week at the skate park with my Zoo York deck are far over, but I'm trying my best. And I have definitely noticed a big spike in energy throughout the day with the use of the weight machines.

Which leads me to: let me just say that there is nothing more humiliating then showing someone your food diary for a week. You are simply accountable for everything. I almost died, wondering what my trainer must have been thinking when she read that for lunch one day I had consumed: a grilled cheese sandwich, cream filled cookies with soy milk (see Evil Cookie post from a few days past), and a brownie. 

The day of Sunday, May 3, has got to be the best: fried egg with 3 pieces of thick bread with butter (I did not admit to having used practically half a stick of butter), a pear-ginger scone with milk, shrimp and grits in cream sauce, mac and cheese, 3 pieces of bread with butter (again), a vanilla cupcake with chocolate frosting, and a glass of red wine (finally, something not so bad for you).

But wait!! Did you see Saturday, May 2, just the day before? Dinner: 3 glasses of red wine, mixed cocktail, fried plantains, cornbread, barbecued shrimp on toast with sauce, shrimp and grits in cream sauce, 2 beignets in syrup (obviously I went out to eat. But still!).

I'm not read to give up food or to try out bulimia or any other number of food disorders. I want to keep eating the crap I do, so I hope this whole exercise nonsense will at least keep my body in check. 

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More food posts soon.