I’m on a two week fat flush right now, after eating pounds of food on vacation (yay, chocolate cream pie!) and seeing myself in a bikini. It’s two weeks of protein, no carbs, no dairy, no sugar, only certain vegetables and fruits, no salt, no oil except for two tbsps of flax oil per day, and thermogenic (hot, metabolism affecting) spices. Oh, and you have to drink unsweetened cranberry juice (mmm…) constantly.

Anyway, blah, blah, on the boring details. Just want to give you an idea of how incredibly tedious this diet is. Each meal or snack fills you up for a half an hour and then you’re on your own. But I’ve done it before and it works and kick starts you into a healthier eating pattern, plus it’s designed to clean out your liver a bit.

I’m only on day four, which technically is day three because I had two glasses of wine on the first day (not allowed), but I’m already crying about it to anyone who will listen. I’m fucking starving. And I come from a family in which carbs play an important role. My sister said recently, “I have very disturbing news. My son appears to feel indifferent towards pasta.” And my eyes widened in horror. There must have been a switch in the hospital!

So I’m pissing and moaning and complaining and crying and I’m weak and cranky and feeling way more sorry for myself than the whole thing warrants. You’d think it was a full on fast the way I’m carrying on. I’m also bitching about not losing any weight, to which Alison pointed out “You’ve only been on the diet for two days, Mary!” Oh, yeah. That’s right. It only FEELS like a month.


So I’m walking home from a day at work in which I discovered all of the deposits entered into my paperwork while I was gone are completely wrong, and in protest of the gays and the suffering they regularly put me through (and you know, because of my weakened state) I spent the last hour and a half being completely unproductive and poring over dlisted.com (yay, Michael K!). I think I came in well over a half an hour late this morning too.

Anyway, I’m bitterly dragging along with my eco-friendly reusable grocery bag full of things like kale and radishes and yet another $10 bottle of unsweetened cranberry juice, and I run into my friend Stephen Sebring. Stephen is a fairly famous photographer who I met years ago because he was friendly with an alcoholic idiot that I dated for a brief and annoying time. Stephen and I are not close, but he and his girlfriend live across the street from me and they’re both totally cool and they have the most perfect pomeranian that ever lived. So we usually stop on the street to catch up on what’s going on and always their lives are infinitely more productive than mine.

Today I asked Stephen how he was doing and it went something like this. My thoughts are in parenthesis:

Stephen: Well, the baby’s two months old now and he’s doing great.

Me: Oh my God, has it been that long since I’ve seen you? It seems like Shoshanna was just pregnant! (I am so fucking hungry.)

Stephen: Yep. And you know, my other baby’s been born too, my movie.

Me: You made a movie? (I want pasta.)

Stephen: I’ve been following Patti Smith around and filming her for 12 years, and then it took me a year to edit. The movie just came out. It was at the MOMA last week.

Me: Are you kidding me? That’s amazing! (Clam spaghetti.)

Stephen: It won an award at Sundance, I’m so excited.

Me: That’s so great Stephen, really. I’m so happy for you. I’d love to see it. (That place across the street has a really good Fra Diavlo.)

Stephen: It’s at the Film Forum, I’m trying to get all my friends to go see it. I think tomorrow night is sold out though.

Me: I will make a point of it, that’s absolutely amazing. I’m so impressed. (Omg, focus! What have I done with my life? Nothing! Please don’t ask me what I’ve been doing.)

Stephen: So what have you been doing lately?

Me: Erm…well, I’ve started a fat flush…

Author: Raffaele

Rock and roll juggernaut, writer, muse, animal lover, Cycle Slut from Hell, friend, lover, sister, daughter, nerd, fagwoman, Slytherin, killer queen.

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