High In Fat Low In Fat

There's nothing like a bad mood brought on by hunger. You're miserable. Your stomach is making loud, gurgling noises that you suspect everyone around you can hear. Anything anyone says irritates you. It's a bad place to be in. A dark, bad place.

For a few years I had an on and off thing with carbs. It started when I had just moved to Seattle. I thought I was eating the same amount I always have but, you know, the little lies we tell ourselves. The truth came to me in the form of a really bad picture. My upper arm was on the foreground of said picture and it looked like a sausage about to burst. Hush, child, I kid you not. It was a fat lardy sausage. If you pierced it with a fork sausage-y grease would have come out.

And so I went on the South Beach diet which helped me lose the weight. It also gave me the most vivid dreams of steaming white rice, pasta and crusty bread and lining up for buffets at posh hotels. And also short spells of dizziness and extended spells of crankiness. These are the exact same effects the Master Cleanse had on me but a hundred times worse. Yeah, thanks a lot Beyonce, for yammering about Master cleanse this and master cleanse that and bootylicious this and jelly that.

I know certain people who have gone on this GM diet. You're supposed to eat only one or two specific foods each day of the week. I don't know about that. I'm not sure I find Wednesdays with bananas and milk and Fridays with beef and tomato reliable. But hey, they said it worked.

Before I end this, I would just like to send a message to my metabolism. Hey, you dick, do you need a compass? A map? When I'm making an effort to get fit I don't really need to lose any weight on my neck or wrists or ankles. Come on, a little help around the thighs, please! Oh, what did you say? It's not your fault I eat like a trucker on the weekends? And that I have never said no to bacon?

Huh. Okay, fair enough.

Now it's time for some diet advice from my favorite expert, Marjorie Dawes: