Skinny

Having lived the dorm-life for the past year, I lost a lot of my inhibitions and a lot of weight. God knows, I was carrying at least 15 kgs in excess, of which I managed to drop 10. At this point, I am really tempted to lie and say that I found a work-out buddy and we did fun gymmy-buddy things pine fresh in the early morn, followed by a sumptuous (yet healthy) breakfast with an accompaniment of dark, judgmental looks that were cast upon those upon who opted for the delicious 'scone-and-a-latte' option. Now, all I need to do is throw in a clever and ironic Falstaff quote as seasoning and it shall taste just as a perfect, aspartame flavoured weight-loss success story is supposed to.

Of course, I am not going to do this. It's wrong! Not that that has ever stopped me, but, let us face it, the people who know me shall chortle at this Falstaffian approach, and Old Jack does have his pride, though he may be somewhat confounded by what is deemed morally questionable.

The truth is a bit more distasteful than the fanciful (yet false) picture painted above. Oh no no no! There was no frenching the tooth-brush! By distasteful, I mean bland, not puke-escent (totally coined that!). Allow me to eluciadate this by prevaricating the lie:

Item 1: "I found a work-out buddy": Untrue and, in no sane world, could ever hold true, I am a bit too cynical to appreciate the salubriousness of a work-out buddy. Or even a work-out.

Item 2: "Pine fresh in the early morn": I am snorting with sarcastic laughter here! The only times I'd, and pardon my French, drag my slothful ass out of bed "in the early morn", would be in order to make it in time for an 8 a.m. class. I honestly don't know which is the bigger joke here, "early morn" or "pine fresh" because I am not really a happy-"Good morning to you!"-awakening sort of a person. I am bitter and crabby and full of hate until I get that caffeine flowing.

Item 3: "dark, judgmental looks that were cast upon those upon who opted for the delicious 'scone-and-a-latte' option.": This dispels the "healthy, sumptuous breakfast' bit as well because I was the King of SconeandaLattenia (amongst other minor duchys of habit and mind). So yeah, self-hatred can only extend so far!

I find that I cannot run from this anymore: the sad, bland truth is that I basically neglected my meals. Sometimes, I'd eat once a day and that meal may or may not consist of a single (albeit fairly well-sized) bowl of cereal. I am a stress-junkie: caffeine and workahol are the fuels this engine runs on! *slaps rump* Under optimal work-load, I don't need food! This is, of course, a far cry from my 'O' and 'A' Level years as well as my York days when I was eating emotionally. Maybe there is something about college that makes us want to look svelte as we throb between assignments and exams, to bloom during paper season...I shall never understand it!

I cannot help but reminisce about the many weighty conversations that I had with my friends. For three guys and two girls, that is a whole lot of baggage to cart around! Santiago, who, it seemed, subsisted only on beef jerky and copious amounts of soda, would good-naturedly sneer at my crisply placed order of "Diet Coke please." everytime we went out to eat. He would also ruminate over his 'gut'- a gut that, I have firm reason to believe, was only in his mind. I never saw it and I was his room-mate! Punjaban would woefully remonstrate over how much she had bloated in the past few months while I would rush in with quick assurances that she was being ridiculous. This was true, of course, with sensible fashion choices Punjaban always looked unfailingly fresh and stylish. Now, Masakalli, who was by no means fat, a different matter all together! Everytime a lithe young Freshman thing would walk by, Masakalli would launch into a King Lear-esque rant, calling hell-fire, sulphur and brimstone on the aforementioned's perfectly toned ass. This would invariably be followed by a need to work-out and now! Sometimes she'd blame Punjaban for her (that is, Masakalli's) missed work-outs. I, on yet another hand, was petulant and dark about how fat I was: I'd talk about all my nice clothes (an understatement) and how it was unfair to them that they got to adorn such an unflattering frame (an understatement). After venting our respective spleens, we'd all take a moment to hate Baingan, (a mutual friend who looks like anything but an egg-plant) who would work-out each day come rain, shine, sleet, hail or all at the same time (and yes, this has happened!). Hamlet, with his swimmer's build, was the very pattern of patience, he said nothing.

The one factor that makes the aforementioned jeremiad sound like 'The Three Sillies' is that none of us were as disgustingly obese as we thought ourselves to be. Now, that I am back home, I find that I fit perfectly into jeans that I last wore when I was 14. Not that this has humbled me in any way, I guiltlessly shop at stores that I used to avoid because the very mannequins made me want to cut myself, I still stick to 'Diet Coke please' and mournfully order skinny lattes at Starbucks, but perhaps the most annoying habit of all is starting sentences with "Now that I am skinny..." or the lovably humble substitute, "When I was a fatty..." How quickly have I forgotten those days of sucked in stomachs and hurling my mobile phone at the help because she dared to agree with me when I said that I looked fat... I didn't work for this weight-loss, it just happened to me! Oh God, those phrases reek of hubris! I am such a fool! Weight tends to creep back! What must the skinny king do now? Must he purge? The king can't do it! Instead, he shall skip lunch!

Until the next time,
GossipGuy!