Down with PANTS (and diets) - The Saga of Lyndsie - Part 6

I'm going to take a break from the SCA commentary because while I still have LOADS to say about that subject, I need to do more research to present an unbiased opinion.

There has been another issue that I've been thinking about lately and that has caused me a lot of stress. I feel, fucking, fat. Now, I know, most of you will come out and be all, "You're not fat! Don't say these things about yourself!" And for the most part, I am right there with you. But there are some problems. While huffing my ass off on the treadmill today, I had 2 thoughts: One was horrific and one was amazing. The amazing thought you'll find at the end of this blog.

The horrific one was this poem on dieting:

Now I can't say that I mind the size,

Of my butt, my hips, and my thighs

The problem, however, is that my pants don't fit

And become even tighter when I sit.

Pants...pants are the actual devil. Women's pants especially are like the lady devil. Twice the fun, but also twice as scary. Also, purty. But seriously, women's sizes must have been designed as the ultimate oppression by the patriarchy: they're designed to frustrate and make you feel fat. I swear, 0.999999999 pounds in either direction and you either feel like a land whale shoved into a compression sock or a middle-aged, overweight, loser who's given up on life and her appearance.  Screw burning bras. BURN ALL THE PANTS!

Vida Guerra's ass.....I need to do more squats

Anyway, if you don't stay in that sweet spot of weight, your pants will judge you. So I am constantly attempting to eat healthy enough, and exercise enough to keep myself right at the very tippy top of my pant fit range. You'll notice that the first place to wear through on my pants are the inner thighs. No joke. It's sad. It doesn't help that skinny jeans are all the rage now.

Everything is skinny these days it's seems

Skinny lattes, skinny cows, skinny jeans

America is saying that you have to be thin

Which has very little to do with actual skin

I actually really like skinny jeans. I like how they accentuate my womanly curves...Except my belly. It seems like there is no happy place for a waistband to fall: Too high and you look like Urkel; too low and you worry about showing off that tramp stamp you got when you were 15. Or your fat just spills over the top...lovely. Even if you don't have much of it, when it concentrates into one ring around your midsection you may as well be carrying around an inter tube from Water World. Yuck.

This is where weight loss comes in. I want it. But I don't want to give up ALL of something because i know that with my (lack of) self control, that would never fly. If I know I can't eat something I want to, and if I want to eat something and can't then I just get extremely agitated. Food is my kryptonite...especially salt. I'm an addict....

I just want to eat and drink, especially beer

And have a bag of chips there, a slice of pie here

I like to eat healthy too, especially quinoa and kale

But life without its sweet pleasures, soon becomes stale

But it's even more than that...I've tried calorie counting, but I just can't eat enough on those pre-determined calorie limits to actually feel full. I can eat literally as much salad as I can force down my gullet but still be hungry an hour later. And when I don't eat enough, I get super hangry, shaky and light-headed. Add into that mix the time factor and I fall off the wagon. A lot. I guess you could say that I'm more like dragging beside the wagon, with one hand halfheartedly looped around the rail, my face pressed into the snow. 

I wish that i could find a diet that allowed me to eat what I wanted, when I wanted and still allow me to lose weight. Yeah. Friggin'. Right. Plus, I'm not willing to give up alcohol. I know that will make me sound like a lush, but y'know what? Having a glass of wine, a cocktail, or a few beers after work is sometimes the only light at the end of the tunnel on a shitty day. I don't need to get blitzed, or even tipsy, but it's the relaxation, social, indulgent feelings you get from alcohol (or chocolate or ice cream) that psychologically helps me ready myself for the next day of the same boring grind. 

The diet also needs to not rely on healthy foods I hate, namely: Bananas and Bars. People think I'm insan for not liking bars "There's so much nutrition packed into a bar!" "And some are not that healthy for you but are CHOCOLATE DRIZZLED." Look, people, I don't care if this bar is coated in gold and pooped out of a unicorn's ass...I can almost guarantee that it tastes like sugary cardboard, clay, or old people's belly button lint. The only bars that I can stomach are candy bars, those awful Quaker Oats Chewy bars that you got when you were like 5, and the occasional Nutrigrain Bars.

Believe you me, I have tried more than a representative sample of the country's bars. My office has a wonderful, terrible array of bars that they put out in the "healthy snacks" bowl along with Ritz Bitz, Mini Oreos, waxy red-delish apples,and fruit snacks. Most of these bars are only really for throwing at your teammates and kickimg when you're angry. So, please don't try to sell me on the viability of bars...unless you have a miracle brand where one bar will instantly vaporize 10lbs, I'm not interested.

They make bars of all kindz these days

Gluten-free, soy-free, vegan, dates and maize

Different they may seem, but one thing holds true

They all taste like cold, hard decaying donkey poo

On the plus side, I try to pack most of my meals full of veggies and greens - i LURV kale and kale smoothies are one of my favorite things....As well as not-horrible amounts of carbs. I don't drink a lot of sugary drinks, preferring tea and sparkling water. But i binge-eat chips at work. And my coworkers, like cats proud of a kill, bring each other the terrible snacks from the doom bowl. And yet I still oscillate between, "hey is my belt getting loser?" and "JESUS, MOTHER-FUCKER, WHY JEANS, WHY? WHY YOU SO TIGHT?!?!?!"

Maybe I should stop wearing pants altogether

Just wear leggings on the days of bad weather

Mumus and skirts are where the real power lies

Down with the oppression of dirty pant ties

Again, it comes back around to pants. I think I have found the first solution to a successful diet: lose the pants. If you no longer had pants to make you feel fat and horrible, you could go about your days eating what you wanted - healthy, salty, sugary, or veggie-y. Life would be tastier and freer. You would, as a woman, earn the right to vote and soon become ruler of the world. Getting rid of pants solves everything.

DOWN WITH THE PATRIARCHY! DOWN WITH PANTS! DOWN WITH THE PATRIARCHY! DOWN WITH PANTS! 

You're Welcome.