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All those late-night eating binges, T-bone steaks, chocolate cakes, and bottomless bowls of pasta have finally taken their toll on my fragile (?) anatomy. I have gained weight.

If you’d tell me, “Gained weight? It’s probably just one or two pounds! Get a grip, you sissy!” you’re wrong. The other day I looked at the mirror and I saw this monstrosity staring back at me:

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After that unsuccessful attempt to lose weight a few weeks back, I decided to give myself a break for a while. But contrary to what I put in the last entry, I haven’t given up on losing weight. In fact, I’ve been finding more ways to be thin, and that equals more failures. Sigh.

As I have been an average-sized (take note: I said average, not svelte) person a few months back, I believe I am qualified to ask this question: “What the hell happened?”

Maybe it’s the sleeping marathons. Or the endless bags of potato chips. With cream cheese. Or the utter lack of motivation to exercise. Or the urge to dress like SailorMoon. Either way, I have turned myself into one useless pile of fat.

So here I am, doing my best to lose weight once again. Read on and laugh at my pathetic attempts (and my subsequent failures) to lose weight.

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Plan # 4:
Slimming Tea

So I’ve been warned by people not to take slimming teas. But I do want to lose weight, so I gave it a try.

My mom keeps a stack of slimming teas somewhere in the kitchen. I have no idea why she never touched it. Oh, yeah, she doesn’t need it. She’s not fat anyway. So I grabbed a teabag and dumped it into my cup of hot water. Ok. So I’ve heard that it will cause some really evil diarrhea, but I’m doing this so you guys can laugh at my misfortunes.

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OMG is that my beer belly? And I have boobs! I’m so sexay!

- Oscar Wilde on fatties

As I have mentioned here and here, I have been trying to lose weight for the longest time, but with tragic results. After taking a break from losing weight (I needed to regain my composure- and dignity) I have sort of lost control over my increasingly spiraling weight and, well, even my baggy jeans have felt tight. So what do you do in a situation like this?

You lock yourself up in a room, play with your man boobs for a couple of hours and when you get bored, scream your lungs out until you pass out. When you wake up in a pool of your own drool, you look at your reflection in the mirror and you see that you’re still, um, fat.
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I hate eat-all-you-cans, mainly because the prospect of having bottomless eats can be daunting for my plans to lose weight. Especially if I’m on the losing end of the weight-loss war and would like to win a small battle every now and then. So I try to avoid occasions that entail eating lots, making up excuses about saving an obscure country in Africa from the machinations of a tyrant or something like that. Whatever.

But it was my grandfather’s birthday last Sunday, and despite my protestations, I had to show up and wage another battle of wills against the buffet table.

So after making niceties with my relatives, I grab a plate and head off to the buffet table. The buffet table stares at me menacingly, and taunts me with cries of “You will never be able to resist my charms, you weak human glutton!”
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