Theme Song, Greenday's Boulevard of Broken Dreams

I'm stumbling along the lonely road; protein shake in one hand, an unraveled jump rope in the other. I'm on a diet, yet again. I'm not too bad off in the weight department. But I'm not too well off either. I'm not opposed to diets; I just don't think it's realistic to diet forever. We're all human. Pizza still smells nice, even with the Atkins bible pressed into your palm. Burgers are still heavenly, even with South Beach commandments jostling around in your tote bag. So on the conventional diets, when you fall off the wagon, you're out of the running. At least that's how it was for me. If I suffered a moment of weakness with some pals out for pizza, I suffered afterward. The scale would grin, maniacally, at me. The numbers would whizz past into outrageous digits. I'd have a Kirstie Alley moment where I would howl at the ceiling, "Oh my God!" and crumple to the floor in a sobbing heap, next to the tub.

I'm not on Weight Watchers or Atkins. I'm on the Curves diet. This is a diet that encourages you to maintain a certain eating habit that won't shut down your liver, or anything crazy like that. It's not a fad diet (like the coconut diet...bleech! I dig c-nuts, but that's too weird for me). It's a new way of life... provided I can get past the first intense week of dieting. I'm only allowed 15 grams of carbs a day, at least for the first 2 weeks. It's going to be hard, but I just have to remember my girl Kirstie and the sound of the scale seeking out the perfect trio-combination of digits to break my heart.

Life's a bitch sometimes, no?