January 1, 1995
It’s a new year, and by the end of it I’m going to have a new and improved body! I’ve decided I’m going to lose 25 pounds this year. That’s only a couple of pounds per month, so it’s not a tall order. I can do this. Just limit myself to maybe 1800 calories and no more than 30 grams of fat. To that end, I went to the store today and stocked up on Lean Cuisine meals. If I only have low-fat meals in the fridge, It’ll be easier to stay disciplined.
January 2, 1995
Okay, I want to know what idiot decided to label Lean Cuisines as “meals.” I ended up eating three of them for dinner. I tried to get by on one, but an hour later I was famished. Maybe these things are made for women … well, really small women. Anyway, I felt okay for awhile after the second one, but an hour later I was starting to get pretty light-headed, so I had a third. I also had a fourth one around midnight, but I’d kind of planned on including a snack in the diet plan, so I guess that’s okay. At least I kept the fat grams down for the day. I’m sure my appetite will adjust if I just grit it out for a couple of days. Glad it’s only the second day of the year.
January 9, 1995
I have GOT to stop being such an undisciplined slob! I forgot it was Mitch’s birthday this week, and course the skinny little bastard insisted we go to La Canasta. Easy for him; the guy eats more than I do and ever gains an ounce. (Plus I swear every time a hair disappears off my head, it ends up on his.) I was going to just order a salad and have maybe three or four chips with salsa, but once I started tasting the chips, you’d think I hadn’t eaten in weeks.
After the waiter brought us another basket of chips, I figured if I’m paying for a birthday dinner, I’m not going to sit there and watch Mitch stuff himself while I chew on lettuce, so I had the full burrito combo platter (only about a million grams of fat!) and a couple of beers. I also had a small jar of peanuts around midnight — yeah, like burritos don’t have enough calories in them. No more. I’m glad it’s still early in the year. If I lose just under three pounds per month, I can still make my goal.
January 20, 1995
I don’t @#$%ing believe this! Lean Cuisines and Budget Gourmets and Weight Watchers meals for a solid week, and I weigh exactly the same! I swear I didn’t go over 1800 calories all week. I’m hungry as hell, I didn’t cheat, and I’ve got exactly nothing to show for it.
Time for a new plan: 1700 calories per day, and longer sessions on the treadmill. Less fat, too. I picked up some Grape Nuts for breakfast. The turkey sausage is lower in fat than the porky stuff, but it’s still a little on the fatty side.
January 22, 1995
Okay, I want to know what idiot decided a “serving” of Grape Nuts is half a cup. Does anyone eat half a cup of this stuff? Two bites and I’m done. I could eat a doggie biscuit and feel more satisfied. I ended up licking the bowl this morning to get the last drops of milk. I don’t really like skim milk, but I sprinkled some Sweet N Low into the cereal, so at least it had a little flavor. Well, just have to stick with it. Like they say, nothing tastes as good as thin feels.
January 31, 1995
Exactly what kind of moron resolves to lose 25 pounds and then eats an entire pizza? And I did such a good job on the diet all day; all I had to do was go to bed without eating again! They had a big bowl of fruit at the commercial shoot, so I just had an apple and a banana for breakfast, with some soy milk in my coffee. A turkey sandwich from the craft services cart for lunch — mustard, no mayo, and I even threw away the cheese. A Healthy Choice Sweet ‘n’ Sour Chicken for dinner. That’s it. I was at maybe 1100 calories for the day, trying to make up for yesterday. Just don’t eat again, and you can call it a successful day.
But then as I was watching Forrest Gump (great flick!) on the VCR, it’s like this little demon appears on my shoulder and says, “Look, it was a long shoot, you were on your feet all day, you deserve a treat, one little pizza isn’t going to kill you.” So I pick up the phone to order a small pizza. Guy from Giordano’s asks what size, and the demon says, “You know, you get a lot more for your money if you order the large, so just eat maybe a third of it and then freeze the rest. You can do it.” Yeah, like hell I can. NO MORE PIZZA! I turn into a total pig when I’m around that stuff.
February 3, 1995
I don’t think the frozen pizzas from the store have as many calories as the ones they make at Giordano’s. The cheese looked a little thin on top so I added some extra slices of mozzarella before baking it, but it still wasn’t exactly thick. Same size around, but it’s the thickness that counts. Anyway, I think I can get away with having one of them on the weekend as long as I tighten up the diet the rest of the week. Tomorrow I’m going to just have a Slim-Fast for breakfast and lunch, maybe a skinless chicken breast for dinner.
February 4, 1995
Okay, I want to know what idiot decided a can of Slim-Fast qualifies as a “meal replacement.” Maybe if you poured it over a big bowl of Cheerios. I swear I was hungrier an hour after drinking the stupid thing than when I woke up. Lucille saw me through the window of the training center around 11:00 and came in to ask if I was okay. She said I looked kind of shaky. I ended up taking an early lunch and had some lo mein from Chan’s in the food court. That was stupid — there’s a ton of grease in their brown sauce.
February 14, 1995
I @#$%ing hate Valentine’s Day. Maybe if I lost a few pounds, I’d feel more like asking someone for a date. Fat and balding — hey, there’s a great combo for you. Maybe I should move in with my parents, too, just go for the whole package. Then I’d be a total chick magnet.
March 1, 1995
Okay, enough already. Two months gone, and I’m up two pounds. I should’ve been down at least five by now. At least it’s looking like a long winter, so I can keep covering up with the big sweaters for awhile. But summer is going to get here, like it or not, so it’s back to the diet and NO MORE CHEATING.
March 7, 1995
Pretty good week. It’s been a hassle getting to the gym, and I don’t like signing up for a treadmill and then waiting around while some goof pretends he didn’t see the “30 Minute Limit” sign, so I bought an electric treadmill! It kind of cramps the apartment, but what the heck, it’s not like I throw a lot of dinner parties in here.
Anyway, instead of sitting on the sofa and watching TV, I’ve been watching while walking, using a pretty steep incline. I also really stuck to the low-fat diet this week and limited my snacks to some microwave popcorn with non-fat butter spray. This is finally working. I feel GREAT.
March 27, 1995
I don’t how in the hell I could be depressed right now. I finally lost a pound and a half, so you’d think I’d have something to cheer about. Well, it’s been a long winter. Probably just a seasonal thing.
June 18, 1995
Next time I go to Wrigley field, I am NOT DRINKING ANY BEER, and I don’t care if everyone else is. All it does is kick my appetite (for beer and food) into overdrive. When those “nachos” they serve start to taste good, you know something’s wrong. Then of course Mitch decided we should go to La Canasta for dinner. At least their nachos are real. It was fun, but that’s enough. I’ve already gained back most of the six pounds, and the year is practically half over.
September 19, 1995
The new bits about gaining weight when you hit 35 went over pretty well, especially in the early show — more people my age. Maybe I should just give up, gain another 50 pounds, become another “funny fat guy” comedian. Naw, not worth it. I don’t want to be one of those guys people talk about in the past tense … “Yeah, he was funny. Too bad he died.” Okay, I’ll get back on the diet, and no cheating this time, at least until my birthday.
November 15, 1995
I should know better than to step on the scale the day after my birthday. I’m 37 years old and at least 25 pounds overweight, maybe 30 pounds. Some birthday present. If this keeps up, I’ll be a blob by the time I’m 50.
January 4, 2010
Chareva made big almond-crusted pork chops for dinner. Awesome. We couldn’t finish them, so looks like I’ve got lunch for tomorrow.
Sara, of course, trimmed the fat off the end and ate that first. She wanted to play chess after dinner, but I told her I have to write tonight. She squeezed a promise out of me to play tomorrow. She also informed me she doesn’t mind when I tell her if she’s making a good move or a bad move, but she doesn’t want me to tell her exactly which moves to make to beat me. Fair enough. The way her mind works, I’d better rack up a string of victories while I still can.