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The best thing about this jumpsuit dress was the bright, red apple stitched on the chest. I had my love for food displayed for the world to see even then.
Even though I was as bright eyed and eager as every other first grader that day, something just wasn't right. Somehow, looking around at all the other bony-kneed girls in equally as adorable little jumpsuit dresses, I knew that I was different - and I would be everyday for the rest of my life.
That's right folks. I was the fat kid.
Now, being a fat kid had its perks. You got to wear adult clothes faster. If you're a girl you developed breasts sooner. In the world of "Kid-dom", this was good stuff. But, when you're the fat kid, there's something you'll suffer from then, and for the rest of your natural born life. That nagging in the back of your head:
"God. I *WISH* that I could be thin!"
So, fast-forward to 2005 - to the 9th floor of the community centre on that indiscriminate side street. I'm still wearing a purse like the first day of grade one - but now I'm fishing through it looking for that cash that I set aside to FINALLY (for the thirteenth time in the twenty-seven years my life thus far) join a diet club.
New year. New regime. New diet. New rules. That's me. I'm finally going to get on track. I have big plans. Hell, I've always had big plans. And, I've decided that this time I'm actually going to do it*
*It - As in the act of actually sticking to a diet and exercise regime that doesn't include cheating, skipping exercise classes, telling myself that onion rings count as vegetables, wasting money on exercise clubs I won't go to, and measuring everything I put in my mouth, including that "taste" of cheesecake that my boyfriend orders because he's really thin and can eat whatever the hell he wants.
So I've managed to commit to meeting at this diet club. I feel in the twelve-step program of my life, I'm at least at step three (after admitting the problem and researching the problem. I am now seeking help for said problem - if you count not being able to squeeze my ass into my college day's cocktail dress a problem). So, in my opinion, I'm already way ahead of everyone else. The weekly meeting includes a weigh-in and a pep talk. The location is in a completely neutral community centre - anonymous to most people, but to fat women and men who've gathered at one of these clubs at least once in their life with hopes of losing weight, this location is completely obvious.
The meeting begins and I give myself a tension headache by looking extremely interested and nodding at everything the group leader says. I start ticking off the points of the meeting in my head: Love yourself, check! Moderation, check!!
I actually get kind of bored half way through, and end up tuning out in order to have a few fantasies about losing a ton of weight and seeing my old high-school crush who wouldn't give me the time of day when I was fifteen and chubby. In my fantasy I wind up pining him to the ground, with one of my killer shapely legs stepping on his chest. I'm wearing a red stiletto saying "How does it feel to be on the bottom, bitch??"
My fantasy continues until I snap back to attention to get group tips on making ultra-low fat chocolate brownies.
After the meeting I stay and introduce myself to the group lecturer. This is because I'm 150% committed to following the program, and staying on track. I'm willing to give up all foods which are high-cal, high-fat, and high-carb, fried and breaded. I've cleaned out the pantry. I've stocked my fridge with fresh vegetables and fruits and non-fat yogurt. Images of me jogging into the kitchen in a track suit and ponytail to prepare a protein shake flash across my mind. I am selflessly going to be an inspiration to all those before me who think they couldn't lose weight - and one day I'll be on the TV saying "If I could do it, so can you!"
I'm ready. I'm committed.
After the meeting I make boyfriend stop on the way home so I can get a slice of cheese pizza. After all, it could be the last piece of pizza I ever eat. It's my symbolic final hurrah before I give myself completely to my new lifestyle.
Besides, I have a whole week to lose it before my next meeting anyway.
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