To this day, the best and most effective diet I’ve ever been on was the one where I didn’t eat and I drank the entire island of Cuba.
See, I went away to college and gained the regrettable and inevitable "Freshman 15." And, I had already put on some weight after quitting dance my junior year of high school, so by the time my first collegiate year was over I was pretty chubby.
But then I realized how gross I was being, eating whole bags of Cool Ranch Doritos and shoving truckloads of ice cream straight from the tub to my face while I was stoned off my ass (I don’t even like ice cream…).
So I decided to do something about it. I started eating better and running in excess, and it worked! I started to lose weight! I ate even better and ran even more and then I also started this whole “not eating” diet. It worked even better! I lost even more weight!
So, I got pretty thin. It was awesome. I was insane and possessed and in a perpetual state of inebriation followed by intense dehydration but godddamn I looked good.
But then I got hungry so after like two years I finally ate a saltine and my body was like "WAT IZ THIS MAGICAL FRUIT???" and I immediately gained some of that weight back and I keep trying to give it back to the universe but my body is like, "NNNNOO! NEVER! I'M KEEPING THE SALTINE, YOU EVIL BITCH!"
Basically, one day I consumed something other than nine beers and Camel Crush cigarettes and my body held onto that shit and hasn’t let it go since.
The moral of the story is, I will never be as skinny, or as hungry, as I used to be.
And as fucked up as it is, sometimes that makes me sad. But then I just think about the Skeptical Third World Kid, and he puts it all into perspective for me.
Vanity is a lifelong addiction.