Peer Pressure Pounds

So last weekend, a very dear friend from college came to town, and I realized how much the dreaded stigma of "the dieter" or "the health freak" still plays a part in all of our social interactions. It's not like my friend is overweight or even that she eats poorly--it's just that she, like the majority of Americans out there, isn't wholly conscious of what she's putting into her body. Because of that, there's no limitation to what she (or, even I, up until about a month ago) will eat, and there's hardly a minute of indecision involved in her choices (or, at least, that indecision is based on taste instead of health). I found myself, this past weekend, pretending not to care about what I was eating so as to not be seen as the "stick in the mud" while at the same time feeling really bad about the things I consumed.

Here was my weekend of falling off the wagon:

Friday

•The boss was really proud of our accomplishments over the past week, and so he bought us all cupcakes. I felt like I couldn't not eat it...so I did...and I, the girl with the biggest sweet tooth on the planet, didn't even want it! Consulting with my mother later on, I realized that the better approach would have been to take one, say how delicious I knew it was and I wanted to have it later, and then, when no one was looking, throw it out.

•That night, we went out to dinner. My choice wasn't terrible in terms of a meal (stir fry, tho the rice was white), but I ended up having a beer with dinner because the friends we were with wanted to buy a pitcher. I had no desire for this beer (even before I started eating consciously, I didn't like beer), but I also didn't want to say no and be a party pooper. Solution to this? Sew on some balls and stick to my convictions.

Saturday
•Oatmeal for breakfast--yay, me! Ok, I had some cheese too. A moment of weakness. Also, when I'm PMSing, I always crave cheese. And I was definitely PMSing last weekend. Solution? Willpower.

•Yes, I had a Uncle Eddie's Vegan Cookie...or two...while I watched a movie...Yeah, that's willpower again.

•And I also had non-whole wheat pasta when I went out to dinner with friends that night (no other option, other than salad...which I guess would be the other option. Damn.).

HOWEVER I stayed away from the oily, oozy, fragrant garlic knots that everyone kept stuffing their faces with, and that the wait staff replenished every five seconds at our table. I also had a half-glass of red wine.

•And then I had a Heffeweizen at the bar. Because this guy who was talking to my friend and me was buying and I didn't feel like being the exception to everyone else, and I also didn't want him to have to manuever through the very, very, very crowded Other Room bar in Venice with a glass of red wine. Solution? No man needs to buy you a drink. Especially not one with bad shoes.

By Sunday, my friend was gone and I went to the gym and pounded out what I hoped were all the empty calories that I'd consumed over the weekend. To top it all off, when we were preparing to go out on Saturday night, I tried on a pair of jeans that had given me SERIOUS muffin tops only a month and a half ago, and much to my surprise discovered that they fit much, much better now...so of course I immediately felt like all the hard work I'd done over the past month would fly out the window and my sexy white skinny jeans from The Gap would never fit well again...that's what happens when you already have a guilt complex, and then you start dieting. Unless you stick to your healthy way of life, you'll never be able to look your body in the eye again.