too much of me. Like I’m the homely chaperone and not really a student.
Ironically, some of the girls—the stunningly beautiful, sickeningly skinny girls—begin to accept me. In fact, I think they might even like me. Okay, maybe it’s because they like how fantastic they look standing next to the fat chick. I don’t know. Regardless, I do try to laugh and play along, and I never let on that I’m dying underneath. I feel like the modeling-class clown—the one with the sad face beneath the cheery makeup and big red nose. It’s pathetic.
As the first week passes, I realize I am actually learning some things. I know how to use makeup to make my face appear thinner—how to highlight and shade areas to “sculpt” a more attractive look. I know about exfoliation, which is supposed to make your skin glow when you remove old, dead cells, but I’m hoping it will actually slim me down if I scrub hard enough. Who knows? I’ve also learned how to sit, stand, and walk more gracefully, and in a way that should make me appear thinner and taller, although I have my doubts.
But the biggest thing I’ve learned—the thing that could be the key to change—is how to
really
lose weight. There seem to be several foolproof methods, which these girls don’t seem too concerned about revealing to me—probably because I am not the competition. And so I begin to experiment. Of course, I don’t tell Leah about this, since she adamantly believes there’s only one right way to do it. She continues to insist that a “healthy diet with lots of fruits and vegetables and whole grains, plus a moderate amount of daily exercise and lots of water” is the only way to safely lose weight. Well, hey, maybe it works for her, but I wasn’t impressed with only losing three pounds.
I’ve come to accept that there is a secret formula to losing weight. Actually there are several ways, but I don’t want to use drugs, so thatleaves two that seem to really work: (1) You quit eating all foods except for green salads topped with lemon juice, and lots of diet sodas, or (2) you binge, eating everything in sight (when no one is looking), and then throw it up afterward (also when no one is looking).
Okay, this hasn’t been exactly easy for me to accept these new eating habits. For one thing, food has been one of my best friends for quite some time now. How can I possibly give it up completely? Surviving on air (or salad greens and diet soda) like some of these stick girls do seems pretty unrealistic for me. Skipping a meal here and there, well, I’m finding that’s doable. But then I’m so ravenous that I can’t control myself at the next meal. So I binge. Really binge. I nearly emptied out one of the hotel’s snack machines last night. Of course, I got rid of it shortly afterward. But then I felt guilty. I still feel a little bit guilty. Like what am I doing here? Didn’t I use to think this was wrong? But I tell myself this is just an experiment—I want to see how my body reacts to a change like this. Who knows? Maybe it won’t even work.
Another vital ingredient of this secret formula is that you must exercise fanatically, wherever and whenever possible. Even if it’s just “fidgeting” as Leah calls it—because “as everyone knows, fidgeters burn calories.” And burning calories is what it’s all about. There are quite a few girls who religiously refuse to use elevators. Even though our rooms are all on the seventeenth floor, they will use only the stairs to get up or down. The first time I tried this, I had to quit after only five flights, and I thought I was going to die. I did a little better the second and third times. After almost a week, I can consistently get at least halfway up. My goal is to make it all the way up by the end of our two weeks. Some of the girls also rely on the fitness center and swimming pool during free times. I don’t mindworking out at the fitness center so much, but I refuse to get into a swimsuit in
Ironically, some of the girls—the stunningly beautiful, sickeningly skinny girls—begin to accept me. In fact, I think they might even like me. Okay, maybe it’s because they like how fantastic they look standing next to the fat chick. I don’t know. Regardless, I do try to laugh and play along, and I never let on that I’m dying underneath. I feel like the modeling-class clown—the one with the sad face beneath the cheery makeup and big red nose. It’s pathetic.
As the first week passes, I realize I am actually learning some things. I know how to use makeup to make my face appear thinner—how to highlight and shade areas to “sculpt” a more attractive look. I know about exfoliation, which is supposed to make your skin glow when you remove old, dead cells, but I’m hoping it will actually slim me down if I scrub hard enough. Who knows? I’ve also learned how to sit, stand, and walk more gracefully, and in a way that should make me appear thinner and taller, although I have my doubts.
But the biggest thing I’ve learned—the thing that could be the key to change—is how to
really
lose weight. There seem to be several foolproof methods, which these girls don’t seem too concerned about revealing to me—probably because I am not the competition. And so I begin to experiment. Of course, I don’t tell Leah about this, since she adamantly believes there’s only one right way to do it. She continues to insist that a “healthy diet with lots of fruits and vegetables and whole grains, plus a moderate amount of daily exercise and lots of water” is the only way to safely lose weight. Well, hey, maybe it works for her, but I wasn’t impressed with only losing three pounds.
I’ve come to accept that there is a secret formula to losing weight. Actually there are several ways, but I don’t want to use drugs, so thatleaves two that seem to really work: (1) You quit eating all foods except for green salads topped with lemon juice, and lots of diet sodas, or (2) you binge, eating everything in sight (when no one is looking), and then throw it up afterward (also when no one is looking).
Okay, this hasn’t been exactly easy for me to accept these new eating habits. For one thing, food has been one of my best friends for quite some time now. How can I possibly give it up completely? Surviving on air (or salad greens and diet soda) like some of these stick girls do seems pretty unrealistic for me. Skipping a meal here and there, well, I’m finding that’s doable. But then I’m so ravenous that I can’t control myself at the next meal. So I binge. Really binge. I nearly emptied out one of the hotel’s snack machines last night. Of course, I got rid of it shortly afterward. But then I felt guilty. I still feel a little bit guilty. Like what am I doing here? Didn’t I use to think this was wrong? But I tell myself this is just an experiment—I want to see how my body reacts to a change like this. Who knows? Maybe it won’t even work.
Another vital ingredient of this secret formula is that you must exercise fanatically, wherever and whenever possible. Even if it’s just “fidgeting” as Leah calls it—because “as everyone knows, fidgeters burn calories.” And burning calories is what it’s all about. There are quite a few girls who religiously refuse to use elevators. Even though our rooms are all on the seventeenth floor, they will use only the stairs to get up or down. The first time I tried this, I had to quit after only five flights, and I thought I was going to die. I did a little better the second and third times. After almost a week, I can consistently get at least halfway up. My goal is to make it all the way up by the end of our two weeks. Some of the girls also rely on the fitness center and swimming pool during free times. I don’t mindworking out at the fitness center so much, but I refuse to get into a swimsuit in
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