Food Issues

I have a skinny boyfriend. You know his type- he has to consciously think about food all the time, not because he needs to keep his calorie count low, it's because if he doesn't get enough calories, he'll pass out and dramatically lose weight. he eats 5 hearty meals each day. every day, his total exercise is carefully metered so as not to over-exert him.


i am not a skinny girlfriend. you know my type- i have to consciously think about food all the time, not because i'm worried about passing out, it's because if i so much as smell chocolate, i will gain 5 pounds and won't be able to wear my jeans. i eat one full meal each day with two small snacks. i spend one hour of every day of my life working out and sweating like a fucking cow, on top of my twice-daily walks to keep my blood moving.


i'm always very worried that we will end up like those strange couples on daytime talk show television- the exceedingly obese woman and her eerily thin man. *shudder*


because we live a bit far from each other, we normally spend weekends together, and the week apart. so, while being at my apartment the other weekend, he took particular notice of my eating and exercise habits. because he could only come with me for one walk each day, i would replace one walk with a few extra minutes of exercise tacked onto my regular workout (that was bumped to early in the morning before he woke up). he also noticed that i did not eat during 4 of his daily meals, rather i very lightly snack; and on the 5th i ate my usual carefully planned meal (grilled skinless chicken, a veggie, and a small portion of rice or pasta).

that started something of a confrontation- he mentioned an eating disorder.

no no no no no. i DO NOT have an eating disorder. i have a metabolism disorder. i have a metabolism disorder that is encouraged by a hormone disorder. i have a hormone disorder that is brought about by an ovary problem. i have a body shape that shows every ounce of fat. i have slim hips- but that makes my torso look bigger than it is. i have a wide ribcage, and that makes me look more well padded than i am. i have feminine shoulders that add to that effect.

see: my rib cage is wider than my hips- which is not a normal trait in women.



people with eating disorders don't eat/binge and purge out of compulsion and obsession with becoming thinner. i eat very moderately and exercise often because i would rather work hard and curb my eating than pop pills that may or may not work. i'm not a straight-edge, but i would rather not rely on medication to fix my body when i can do it with a little sweat and self-control.

i suppose he has no idea what it is like to feel yourself getting fat. he has no idea what stigma ensues. i'm already on that "getting fat" edge. during the eating disorder talk, he mentioned that i am not fat; and i agree. i'm not. but, i am not thin, either. my edges are rounded and predisposed to becoming rounder.


i'm not shooting for "skinny," i'm shooting for "healthy looking."



i hate people who have to carry around candy bars "just in case they don't get enough calories." especially when i honestly don't remember the last time i had a candy bar.

tread softly on new ground

i'm feeling VERY not myself in a very detrimental way.


after the wedding (steven and whatsherface) there was a lot of discussion about children. it came to our attention that none of mark's buddies (save one old college friend) had kids- despite a desire to have them.


this brought on a discussion on the drive back to his place about procreation and whatnot. thankfully, he fully understands that 1. talking very openly about definite committment and children is the best way to scare me off, so he was exceedingly vague. 2. that i am in no position to have children. if one day the stars align and i do conceive, i can only expect to have a very quick miscarriage. and 3. that i neither want to be an old mom (i would rather experience my children in my younger years) nor do i want to deal with babies, so i would (if i have children) look to adopt an older child before i turn 30. and really, that's only after i have had my fill of life and experiences that have to occur sans babies. not to mention that i would never bring a child into a situation that would ever involve an eventual divorce, so i would have to be super assured in the relationship.


all of those things were pushed aside, and he prodded me with very uncomfortable questions about kids.


this was after the discussion on my stance on a woman changing her name in marriage. blech.






it seems that my relationships have timers: 3 or four months of fun and happiness before it becomes glaringly obvious that my significant other is far more into me than i am into him/her. and then i freak out and end the relationship. every time. the strange thing is: i've recently felt myself being wildly jealous of pregnant women; and i'm not ready to end this relationship, despite the fact that he does not make for good bedfellows and that i'm treading into enemy territory.





i'm a basket case: don't date me.

i've started two new pieces.

one is a saxophone solo. i'm really tempted to arrange it for a small band. it's kind of baroque. tonality and everything. oh sweet jesus, it's in Fminor. *twitches*




the other is an existentialist drama. a la samuel beckett.

10/10 times

i've forgotten how totally selfish heterosexual sex is. no, really.


having been in mostly homosexual relationships for the past year or so, i suppose i've forgotten how straight sex works.



oh yeah; i gracefully get on my knees, in my desperate desire to be the selfless lover...only to get a mouth full of something i don't want...and a night spent feeling TOTALLY unfulfilled.


would it kill him to at least pretend to be interested in my pleasure.