26. Familiarity Breeds Contempt.

I used to be almost 400 pounds (Obviously the audience is going to do/say somethin big—hopefully they're drunk and react atrociously so that it makes sense for me to go—) I know. Anyway, it's a long story. It took a long time but obviously, I'm no longer anywhere near 400 pounds. Sometimes . I still like to eat. A lot. I eat a lot. I love to cook, I love trying new recipes. Sometimes I eat a bit more than I work out so you know, I get a little chubby— Then I get paranoid thinking I've gone and got fat again so I high tail it to the gym and workout, pump it out, stretch or whatever. —and after a good workout or two I'm usually relieved, I'm like oh, I was just bloated. Phew! There's my abs. I was just bloated! Jesus You know, when you're heavy, you don't bloat— Or you do, you just don't realize it, Especially if you're very heavy like I was. So I never even knew what bloating was until— I was about a size 9– Mind you, this is down from a size 28– In women's— For those of you who don't know, that's an 4 of 5 x down to a medium. (The audience will probably do something) I know. lol writing comedy is funny. Try preforming it. That sounds hard. Anyway, I never realized what anyone meant by “bloating” at all until one day it happened to me. A few years ago, I was still kind of moderately normal and by that I mean, eating “regular foods” now I'm pretty much a health nut with the exception of the occasional cupcake charade or, you know, home made French fries. But besides that you know, fast food— processed food, no; and this is actually the reason why; because I had never experienced the phenomena of bloating before, which I learned meant that you could eat something one day, and then wake up the next day— fatter. NO. I did not know this phenomenon was what was considered “bloating” I freaked out . I like, went out with my friends—and this is LA, by the way— all my friends are like actors, and like, travelers and whatnot, and so we like went out for lunch, or something and I don't remember what I ordered or what it was I ate— could have been something simple, potato chips— a burger, I don't know. But the next day, I go to put on like my favorite pair of jeans or whatever—like the same jeans I wear all the time— And the shit was like— smaller. I'm like “wait” what. Mind you, I'm living in LA—but imm staying at this like hip hostel in Westwood where myself and all of my pals are like, bohemians—whatever— I'm a cartoon character. I basically wear the same thing— or a variation of the same thing every day, and so I go to put on my jeans— Like, probably the same jeans from yesterday— And they don't fit. I'm like: What is this? I start freaking out . I'm like oh my god, am I fat again?! Oh my God! No!! I'm like jumping around the room, doing squats and shit trying to stretch out the denim . Yes . I'm like “Oh no, what happened!” What happened?! Am I pregnant?! Oh god! I had never just like— been bigger overnight like that. So I opted for something stretchier. Like some fuckin1-yoga pants or whatever. Leggings. And later on I'm talking to my friend and I like basically just—you know— I ask her, hey, like — have you ever just woke up like, fatter? And she's like “what do you mean?” And I'm like, do you ever just like “get fat overnight” and she's like “I don't know what you're saying.” This is LA, by the way. And I'm like, “Okay, so the pants I was wearing yesterday— like, yesterday— “ She's like “The ones with the— “ “Yeah.” “The ones you always wear?” “Exactly. So I woke up today, and they like— didn't fit.” She's like “that's strange— are you bloated?” I'm like “am I what?” She goes “bloated—you know?” I'm like “I don't know. What's this?” She goes “you're probably bloated; its just gas” I'm like “gas” She's like “it can make— you know— you've never been bloated?” Than I'm like, reaching into the crevices of my mind, thinking back to all those commercials when I was a kid Where the lady would have like a pot belly, like struggling with her zipper and frowning a lot like — pretty much the same as I had just that morning and my friend goes “Yeah, you're probably bloated.” I'm like mortified. I spent my entire life thinking this was something that just didn't t happen to me, but as it turns out, I just couldn't notice! At a certain point, all my clothes were elastic. I never realized, I thought growing up that I just couldn't bloat! I thought I was special. Turns out I was just not able to notice and now—I realize—the smaller you get— the more you notice. “So that's what they mean” That shit is a crime! So I stopped eating so much processed foods and stuff Started really watching it, eventually started working out a lot. I had to get my heart like, stomped on for that last part. Dude I liked, started dating a fitness model. Yeah. Ow. You know since then I've belonged to ever major fitness club in the world. Bless your heart, son. I can hardly skip a day. Sometimes, I do take it easier than usual, though—you know— it's hard to sit in your apartment after two hours of cardio and really focus on anything. So every once and awhile when I really need to get shit don't I just relax and know that I'm never more than a week away from peak fitness at all times. I train hard, It's good. But now I realize the same thing— being extra fit— It's like a never ending battle— That when you're extra fit, just the smallest change to your body can affect the way it looks. When you're cut, drinking too much water and then not sweating it off will take away some of the definition in those cuts. It's insane! I have a new gauging system. I'm like “Alright, as long as this line is still evident, we're okay.” This— I'm not gonna lie, I love being skinny. I might let go, for a like a couple days at best but I can't let it go too long. I'm gonna be old one day— Maybe. Possibly. I don't know, if I stay single, I'm not getting old. Decisions have been made. Being old is one thing, it's like whatever Being old and alone?! Bitterness. Just— depressing. I know I won't be able to work out forever, so I go as hard as I can now so that when and if the age comes on, I will know I've done my absolute best to maintain the body I've been given for this existence. After being that heavy, it is like magic I love being skinny. I really love it. I can fit into places. I can wear things I never would have imagined wearing ever in my life. I love it At a certain size, certain clothes become multi wear. I recently got this skirt that I'm sure was meant to be a pencil skirt— but I pulled it up and over everything and it just so turns out that it also happens to be— a sexy little minidress. Covers just enough— could wear it clubbing— yes. It's also a very soft fabric so I wore it to sleep, this little minidress— Very comfortable fabric, very soft— And when I woke up, it had hiked up and I realized “oh my god, this is also a really cute top! Yesl also a halter top. Nice. I threw on some pants with it, and as I'm wearing it around it kind of form fits, you know, as I'm walking around, not wearing a bra with it—cause I realized this also— The smaller you get. The less atrocious it is in general when you're not wearing a bra. The too became a cute cop-halter. No bra. Yay weight loss! Multi-wear fashion. I always wear a bra regardless, in public, cause I'm classy— but I realize at minimum weight, I don't really “need” to. And that's the horrible thing about being tiny— is when I'm extra ripped, like super cut— I get like a-cup mammaries. Makes me a little sad but also makes sense, since my mom is like straight A cup, or like a B on good days. This makes me sad, going from a GG cup to an A cup. Scary to me, having tits that small, and it makes me sad— But hey, what can I say?! I like having abs, and seeing my ribs. Oh. Ribs. That sounds good right now. I miss ribs. Being a vegan is alright {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©