Pay Attention to Me! Or don't. That's fine.

So. I haven’t been here for a while, but I’ve been feeling the urge to write something lately so here I am, although I’m not entirely sure what to write about anymore. I’ve covered most of my faults, or at least the ones I’m willing to talk about publicly, so what else is there? I guess I could do a diet update, but even I’m not particularly interested in that, so I’d hardly expect anyone else to be. I miss writing regularly, but I think having a break from it has been a good thing. I'm not sure that many people write or read blogs much anymore, do they? I know I don’t read as many as I used to, so maybe it’s just a bit old school in these days of Twittering and Facebook updating.

I’ve always struggled with the attention seeking aspects of blog writing, anyway. I normally avoid undue attention as much as possible and, if asked, I would say I hate being the centre of attention. But I realise that this isn’t entirely true. I want to be noticed as much as the next person; I’m just very quiet and unassuming about it. It’s more a case of I quite like being on the outskirts of attention, just not right smack in the centre of it. I want to be noticed without me having to draw attention to myself, if that makes sense, which admittedly hardly ever works. And we all go searching for attention in our own ways, don’t we? It’s just that I have a very odd relationship with it. On the one hand I like and need it, obviously, but on the other I don’t assume that all attention is going to be good. In fact, in my mind, the more I put myself out there the more likely it is that someone is going to come along and say something less than positive. How awful would that be?! Of course this has never happened, but don’t doubt the ability of a dyed-in-the-wool pessimist like myself to assume the worst. In fact, blog-wise, all I’ve ever gotten was lovely, like-minded people saying kind and supportive things, so it is an entirely irrational and unfounded fear, but I wouldn't let that stop me. Mostly I just feel like I’m having a constant “Pay attention to me! Don’t look at me! Why aren’t they looking at me?!” conversation with myself. It can be exhausting inside my head; I really must get out of it more often.

Anyway, on the positive side, hardly anyone reads this anymore, which in theory should make me feel less self-conscious about it, but it doesn’t seem to work that way. I now know there may be something worse than getting negative attention – not getting any attention at all. So all this boils down to me, here, writing a blog about writing blogs in an effort to get some sort of attention (hey, it turns out I do have more faults to write about. Awesome.) Not so much ironic as it is pathetic, really. I imagine you feel the much the same way having read right to the end, huh? Sorry about that, but thanks for paying attention.

Where's My F***ing Cake?! Part 3: Danger, Will Robinson!

So, after a fairly “easy” start, I’ve finally stumbled quite spectacularly into the danger zone. That’s the point in every weight loss attempt when I start to feel restless and coveting all that awesome food that I’ve been very virtuous about ignoring up until now. Ironically, it usually coincides with the first signs that the deprivation is actually working. My clothes feel looser, I have more energy, people start to notice that I look “different” in some vague way etc. All these should be good things, which they are, but it’s the people noticing that I struggle with the most. I’ve always had trouble accepting the inevitable “you look so good now” comments that come along with weight loss. I am not disagreeing that fat is ugly, and anyone overweight is going to look better when there’s less of them, but I do struggle with the feeling that no matter what else happens, you’re always going to be more “acceptable” if you’re thin than if you’re fat. Maybe that’s unfair of me, in fact I’m sure it is, but it’s hard to break that mindset. And yeah, I get that it is entirely my issue and people are actually being kind when they comment, but unfortunately a lifetime of dieting has kind of warped my mind when it comes to these things. Anyway, this time around the very mild physical changes also coincided with a sudden influx of online articles about the evils of fat people. Okay, they weren’t really about that, they were mostly about some woman who wrote a blog on the Marie Claire website about how she hates fat people and they’re all disgusting blah blah blah. This apparently created a shit storm amongst Marie Claire readers who were appalled and offended by the article, which in turn spawned a whole lot of other articles about the reaction to the original one. Now the issue for me was not the original article because I don’t read Marie Claire and I wouldn’t have known it existed if it wasn’t for the resulting brouhaha. It wasn’t even about the articles written about the readers reactions or the writer’s inevitable apology. The unfortunate thing for me is my compulsion to read the comments on the follow-up articles which, not surprisingly, mostly consisted of people saying they agree with the original writer and embellishing on the idea that fat people should be shot at birth. Or, you know, words to that affect. Yes, I know I shouldn’t take it personally, and it certainly doesn’t matter what complete strangers on the internet think, but it didn’t help when I was already feeling bad about eating more than I should anyway. And it’s always depressing to be reminded that so many people suck, even when it has nothing at all to do with me. Of course the inevitable irony of feeling bad about my weight is that it only makes me want to eat more. Which I did. And not in that good, 'I’m enjoying my meal so I just don’t care' kind of way. So yeah, all of that is a long-winded way of saying that I’ve been kind of crap at the dieting lately. Although it’s also an odd sort of relief because it was all a bit too easy for a while there, so at least this feels more normal. Oh, and I did get to have some awesome cake before the guilt set in, so that was a bonus.

Happily Unsociable

I have recently uncovered the key to living with social ineptitude that could have saved me countless painful evenings in the company of near-strangers: Just. Say. No. It’s so simple yet so effective; I’m almost embarrassed to admit I haven’t tried it earlier. I stumbled upon this amazing technique when I decided I'd had enough of trying to force myself into being something I’m not (social, entertaining, interesting etc.) so I just wasn't going to bother anymore. It took some practice, and a few false starts, but I'm now quite adept at it. One of the key elements, I’ve discovered, is to offer no excuse. Saying “I’m busy” or “I have something else on” just invites polite questions about the obviously fabulous social event that’s keeping you from this one. A smile and a mildly disappointed look while saying “I’m sorry, I can’t make it” is all that’s required. And the best part is that nine times out of ten no one asks why. Perhaps they don’t ask because they don’t really care if I’m there or not, which is a win-win in my book. Most often I think they don’t ask because it’s assumed the only reason you’d turn down any social invitation is because you had something else to do, which is actually kind of true. They just don’t need to know that the something else is staying home with a good book rather than subjecting myself (and others) to the horror of my attempted socialising. On the very rare occasions that they do ask I’ve taken the boldly honest approach of admitting that I'm just not keen on parties, which most people seem to accept as a valid excuse, at least to my face.

Now I’m kicking myself for all those years of going along to things when I really didn't want to, or thinking up excuses and then feeling guilty about them. Don’t get me wrong, I do very much enjoy going out and spending time with my friends and family, and I even enjoy meeting new people, I just don't enjoy the big party or group dinner with people I don’t know – or worse, with people I do know, but don’t have anything much in common with. It’s not personal, I’m sure they’re all very lovely and interesting people, but I’ve never been capable of small talk and getting-to-know-you conversation, and I just can’t be arsed feeling guilty about it anymore. And while I appreciate the kindness and attempted inclusiveness, most of the time I really am happy to be “left out.” I do think a lot of it comes down to age; it’s so much easier being a dull homebody in my 40s than it ever was in my 20s. It’s a myth that all young people like going out, partying, getting drunk etc. I never did. Of course I do wish I could look back fondly on a wild and crazy youth, but I've never been inclined to do anything particularly wild or crazy, even then. I imagine that to some, much more sociable people, the idea of always choosing a quiet night in over a “fun” party is unthinkable, possibly even a little sad, and maybe they’re right. The main difference now is that I don't much care what people think anymore. Middle age is kind of awesome like that.

Where's My F***ing Cake?! Part 2: Dazed and Confused.

So it’s been a few weeks since I entered the sucky, deprivation filled world of dieting and the bad mood should really be kicking in about now, but so far it hasn’t surfaced. Normally by this stage I’d start daydreaming about food cartoon-style - streetlamps look like ice cream cones, people’s heads look like giant donuts etc. I should be imagining everything tastes better than the drab food I have to eat and racing through the chocolate aisle at the supermarket trying to avoid eye contact with the Lindor balls, but it just isn’t happening this time around, and it's kind of freaking me out! I am making sure I get a small treat most days, and I have given myself permission to enjoy anything I like in restaurants since I don’t eat out all that often anyway, so I’m not completely deprived. But mostly I think having a good reason (other than to be smaller) to keep at it has made the biggest difference. Motivation appears to work for me, who knew? It’s quite the revelation. I do still expect the bad times to kick in sooner rather than later, but that might just be my innate pessimism talking.

I have done some things differently this time around to give myself the maximum opportunity to succeed; I've told people, for one. Not everyone, and only if it comes up in general conversation, but I have actually said it out loud several times. Most people are supportive, encouraging and sympathetic, even the ones who haven't had to deal with a weight problem themselves. Telling people is always a double-edged sword, however. While on the one hand it makes it easier to turn down food being offered without making it a big deal, on the other I also have to deal with those people who take it upon themselves to "help" me. You know the ones, watching everything that goes into your mouth, making little comments like "are you allowed to have that?" and "aren't you on a diet?" I know they're trying to be helpful but you know what? It doesn't help. Not even a little bit. I am more than capable of feeling guilty all by myself, thanks. To be fair, these are generally the people that don't know me very well, because if they did they'd know it’s not going to be appreciated. I know they mean well and they think they’re helping me stay on the straight and narrow but, and I say this with all the kindness and understanding in the world, they really need to shut the fuck up. No one wants to feel judged and criticised, especially about something that they judge and criticise themselves for every day.

I’ve also just not been so hard on myself when things do go awry. Of course there has been the occasional bump in the road and cravings that just had to be satisfied, but I have avoided falling into a pit of despair because of it, which is a major hurdle in itself. I do guilt so well, and never as efficiently as when I’m making myself feel bad about something inconsequential. And I miss cake. A lot. While I can be satisfied with a comparatively small amount of chocolate, I can’t just have a little bit of cake, and I don’t want to waste my cake eating on something less than awesome anyway, so I’m holding out until a slice of something really luscious crosses my path, then I’m going to savour every bite - and not feel guilty about it! I just hope some well-meaning do-gooder doesn’t try to come between me and my moderately consumed guilt-free cake, or there will be tears. Almost certainly mine.

The Other Diet

I read something the other day about going on a "shopping diet" where you stop spending money on anything other than the bare necessities. Turns out I've been on that one for a while, and it's a much more successful diet than the other, infinitely more sucky one where I give up eating all the lovely, delicious things that I enjoy so much. I inadvertently started shopping dieting a couple of months ago when I got a letter from Telstra telling me they were cutting the cost of my monthly internet access by $50. That’s right, they’re actually charging me less. I know, I couldn’t believe it either! So now I had an extra $50 a month to put towards my very slow growing holiday savings fund. It got me thinking about how I could save more money and, much like the other kind of diet, I knew I had to take a good look at my spending habits if I was going to make some real changes. First off I placed an embargo on all book and DVD purchases until further notice. Now normally I would consider these items crucially important to my day to day happiness, however working in a library should mean never having to buy a book or DVD, so I really had no excuse other than wanting something and wanting it now rather than waiting my turn. This one is easy to keep because I still feel a very strong sense of shame when I see the piles of unread books I’ve bought over the last couple of years that I so desperately had to have at the time. I also have a healthy collection of DVDs still wrapped in plastic. This is the reason I actively avoid JB HiFi stores, I'm a sucker of those "buy me I'm cheap" stickers. I will, however, never skimp on music. That’s a different thing entirely. I’ll always buy a CD or pay for a download of something I really want because, unlike the books and DVDs, I know I'll actually listen to it.

It was much harder to give up the things that seem fairly small on their own, but add up to a lot of wasted money in the long run. The occasional pair of earrings or a new lipstick. Magazines I skim through but never really read. Impulsive “no reason” presents for my niece or nephew. Even seemingly useful things like plastic containers (one of my major vices) are superfluous when I already have a kitchen cupboard full of them. And of course actual food dieting also helps since (in theory, anyway) I won't be buying all those lovely treats that I usually can't resist. I’ve had to re-evaluate the shopping habits of a lifetime, and the weird part is, after the initial feelings of deprivation, it turns out I don’t actually mind all that much. Maybe it’s middle age or maybe I’ve finally just learned to be sensible, but my shopping diet is nowhere near as painful as the other diet. I still miss the shopping buzz, that tiny moment of joy I’d get from buying something pretty but ultimately unnecessary, but I don’t actually miss the excess stuff. Occasionally I have to fight the desire for instant gratification to avoid paying full price for something that I know I can get cheaper elsewhere, or at least force myself to wait a few weeks until the same thing is on sale. And I can't quite bring myself to be as frugal as I'd really like to be, but I'm a lot closer than I was. I've even unsubscribed from most of my shopping emails so I won't be tempted by apparent "bargains" that really aren't. I feel smug when I don’t spend money that I could have spent, and I even get a small buzz from watching my savings increase. Now, if I could just transfer that feeling of smug satisfaction to food deprivation and weight loss I’d be laughing. Unfortunately, while I will hopefully have some temporary success in that area, I think chocolate will always win the final battle, especially if it’s on sale.

Where's My F***ing Cake?!

Do you know what I hate? Dieting. Do you know why? Because it sucks. I know this because I've done it many, many times, and I've even lost considerable amounts of weight doing it. It's just that it always comes back, and then some. And do you know why that is? Because I like to eat. Eating is awesome. Food is one of my great pleasures in life. I eat when I'm happy and I eat when I'm sad. I eat to celebrate and I eat to commiserate. I love the anticipation of a great meal. I love to cook. I love sharing food with people who also love to eat. It's a wonderful thing to do, and I indulge in it as often as possible. I have sworn off dieting for the last 10 years, which has been fantastic food-wise, but disastrous waistline-wise. So it is with a heavy heart that I have to accept that the time has come to give it another go. When I say I haven't dieted for 10 years, I really mean I just haven't tried very hard. I've attempted half-arsed “dieting”, which usually consists of promising myself I'll eat less and exercise more while still remaining very casual about it. While I like this system in theory, and I'm sure it works for some, the reality is that it doesn't work for me. I know if I'm actually going to achieve any proper weight loss then I need to do it the hard way: calorie counting and deprivation. I hate those bastards too, by they way. So yeah, here I go again. Oh, and while I'm on the subject, you know what else I hate? Exercise. In fact I think I hate exercise even more than I hate not being able to eat whatever I like. While I know I will have to do some exercise at some point, right now I'm going to concentrate on the deprivation before I add the very special horror of exercise to my list of crap I really don't want to do, but have to.

The reasons for reactivating my dieting efforts are simple. Firstly, it's time. I'm 41 years old and despite having been overweight all my life, have yet to suffer any major illness, weight related or otherwise. I've never spent a night in hospital. Never been to emergency. I don't even get the flu very often. I can only assume this is just dumb luck, because I ain't doing anything right. Being overweight, eating badly and not exercising should put me in the very tip top category for “lifestyle” related illnesses, but so far I've managed to avoid anything serious. Thing is, I know that my luck has to run out sooner or later, and maybe I should do something before it becomes a genuine problem. But that's not even the biggest factor in all this. My chief motivation is wanting to travel, something I haven't done since I turned 30. Now, financial constraints aside, I feel my biggest travel obstacle is my arse. Literally. My arse will have to be considerably smaller if I'm going to squeeze it into a reasonably priced plane seat. And as I have been promised much amazing food when I get to the other side, I feel it is finally a good enough reason to step away from the cake and make an effort, if only so I can travel to the other side of the world and eat up a storm!

I should warn you now that this may or may not become a regular blog theme. It's not something I would usually write about, and I am so not a fan of those dieting blogs where someone writes about their “journey” and it's all terribly emotional and uplifting and life changing. Fuck that shit. Given that I have a pretty good idea who the handful of people who read this are, I feel fairly safe and comfortable sharing my dieting hardship here, should anyone care to read it. Writing helps me get my frustrations out, and posting it on the internet helps keep me nice and angsty, so any diet blogs will largely consist of swearing and complaining. I also think it's a way of being more accountable, even if it's only to myself. For now, as much as I know it will suck, I'm actually looking forward to it. I will enjoy my final week of eating and then I will probably enjoy a couple of weeks, maybe a month, of feeling virtuous and healthy before proper diet grumpiness kicks in. That's when the real fun begins.

Be Still, My Bleeding Heart

I consider myself to be very liberal. I believe very strongly in the “live and let live” philosophy. I don't consider my views or opinions to be the most important, or even necessarily correct, they are just mine and yours are yours and everyone is entitled to their own. I also believe I'm very tolerant of all kinds of differences. I'm not religious, but I respect everyone's right to believe (or not believe) in the God of their choosing. I'm not gay, but I don't see why gay people shouldn't be given the exact same legal rights to marriage as everyone else. I believe everyone should have access to the best possible health care and education regardless of their economic situation. I believe everyone in Australia has a right to be treated equally and fairly whether they were born here, migrated here or arrived by boat in a desperate attempt to flee their homeland. I am a bleeding heart liberal, and proud of it. But, perhaps ironically, the one area I find it difficult to be tolerant of the opposing viewpoint is politics. I admit it, for all my liberal leanings, conservatives confuse the hell out of me! Now, while I'm tempted to turn this into a political rant, especially as there is a Federal Election going on as I write this, I think I'll spare you that particular pleasure. But I have been wondering if I can consider myself to be genuinely liberal if I am so intolerant of the opposing viewpoint. I don't have to like them, and I certainly don't have to vote for them, but shouldn't I at least accept the conservative view to be just as reasonable and valid as my own? Does it make me a bad liberal if I don't? I feel at this point I should explain for any non-Australians who may be reading that the main conservative party in Australia is called The Liberal Party, so it's not bad enough that I find their politics objectionable, but it also really pisses me off that it's almost impossible to call yourself a “liberal” in Australia without having to explain that you actually mean you're not a conservative. I'm sure they did that all those years ago just to annoy me. Which is one more thing that I don't understand about them. So where does this leave me on the liberal scale? Can I be a truly open minded if I find closed mindedness intolerable? Should I be working on acceptance rather than railing against the conservatism? Am I, in fact, just as bad as they are? More importantly, why don't they just agree with me?! I'm not actually expecting answers, and I may just be trying to come to terms with a potential conservative government led by an idiot in a speedo, but the very liberal side of me is slightly disturbed by my obvious bias against conservatives. I would like to think I could change, but it would be so much easier if they just weren't so damn wrong.