Pigging Out

I was invited to this party that was held in a nice Italian restaurant. Although I was in the middle of a diet program, I decided to give myself a break and eat to my heart’s content. For more than a month and a half, I’ve been consuming a total of 1,000-1,200 calories per day – pigging out for just one meal won’t hurt.

However, as soon as I started eating, I felt full straight away and had great difficulty finishing the food on my plate. I guess I got so used to eating less that I’ve literally reset my appetite meter to a low setting.

But I must tell you, I really used to eat a lot.

Here’s one story…

First published at FHM Philippines, October 14, 2009 | 03:53PM

Yesterday was one of those days where my mood told me that I deserved to pig out.  Giddily, I rushed to this restaurant to give in to my whim.

“May I take your order?” asked Mark, the server.

“I will have the Grilled Beef Salad, please.”  I replied.

“Lunch portion or regular portion?”

“Regular portion.”

Mark raised an eyebrow and eyed me.  “Um, but our regular portions are good for two to three persons.”

Excuse me, today is Asian Dyna’s pig-out day. I thought. “I know.  But I want the regular portion, please.”

He started to confirm my order.  “OK, may I repeat your order.  One Grilled Beef Sa…”

“Wait, I’m not done ordering. I would want the Shrimp Fra Diablo as my main course, please” I beamed.

“Lunch portion?”

Sigh. “No.  Regular portion.” I knew he was sizing me up, and a morsel of irritation was beginning to grow on me.

“But that’s too large a serving.  You won’t be able to finish it.”

Oh dear, he’s actually telling me how much I should eat.  I looked at him straight in the eye and said with much confidence, “Don’t worry, I will finish it.”

“OK.  So your orders are: one Grilled Beef Salad, regular portion and one Shrimp Fra Diablo, regular portion.  Will that be all?”

“Yes. Thank you.” I tried my best to hide my annoyance. Did he really have to stress the words, regular portion?

The server went back to the counter to take my order in.  I could clearly see Mark talking to the other servers.  They were all stealing glimpses at my direction.  Obviously, they were placing wagers on whether I will finish my food or leave with a doggie bag.

Let’s see about that. I thought as Mark placed the salad on my table.  It was a big plate of salad with generous slices of beef but I knew this was a cinch and I wiped it out with ease.  Honestly, the salad alone would have been a hefty meal but I knew I had a mission.  So I wiped my lips motioned to the server and confidently asked for my main course.

The Shrimp Fra Diablo, which was a pasta dish, was brought to my table.  It was huge! What did I get myself into? I picked up my fork and started eating.  Halfway through the meal I thought I was going to burst.  However, I could feel piercing glances from the servers so I went on to prove that I could finish everything. Although I was able to clean my plate, I knew I stuffed myself silly.  I could not move and I was so close to throwing up.

Concealing the terrible feeling of overeating, I surveyed the servers.  I could see some smiling and some shaking their heads in amusement.  Yes, I did it! Who’s your daddy now? I thought with pride.  I looked at Mark and asked for my check.

“Did you win the bet?” I asked Mark as he handed me my receipt.

Mark was surprised that I noticed the private bettings that went on with the servers.  “No, I lost.”

I gave him a triumphant smile.  Good for you. I stood up and left the restaurant strutting like a champion.

What happened afterwards was terrible.  I had to take a pill because I felt so sick from an upset stomach.  I developed a migraine and appetite loss that continued over the next couple of days. However, all that did not matter.  Victory was sweet.  I was able to reverse expectations and score an upset – no pun intended.

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That Time Of The Month

I feel horrible today.  I remember that I wrote something about this previously. It pretty much sums up how I feel at this moment.

First published at FHM Philippines, March 26, 2009 | 03:18PM

One fine day, I found myself in the middle of a crisis. I was going out and I could not decide what dress to wear. To make things worse, my reason was being clouded by raging hormones. I decided that help was necessary.  I took both dresses and approached my partner.

“Which dress should I wear,” I asked.

“The black one.”

It’s actually ebony. But I will let this pass, I thought. “Oh.  But I wanted to wear my long chain necklace.”

“So?”

“My long chain necklace goes better with this T-shirt dress,” I answered.

“Okay. So wear that blue one. What’s it called, T-shirt dress?”

My dear, it’s periwinkle, not blue. “Yes, T-shirt dress.  But the problem is, it won’t go with my gold Tory sandals.”

“Then I think you should wear the black T-shirt dress.”

Ebony! And it’s a baby doll dress, silly! “Yeah, but I don’t feel like wearing my leather choker today.”

“What do you mean?  Can’t you just wear that long necklace with the black dress?”

Ebony! Ebony! Ebony! And that suggestion is a fashion no-no. “Of course not.  This dress goes better with the choker.  This other dress, with my long necklace.”

“I see.  So I guess, it’s the blue one with the long necklace, then.”

Pe-ri-wink-le! One more, you’re dead meat. “No. You do not understand. If it’s this T-shirt dress, I would have to wear my silver Havaianas.”

“I don’t think it really matters.  Both dresses look the same.  One is just black and the other is blue.”

Aaargh, one is ebony and the other is periwinkle! “What?  These are two very different dresses!”  That’s it! “First of all, this is a periwinkle T-shirt dress!  It supposed to be worn with the long chain necklace and silver Havaianas!  This is an ebony baby doll dress!  It supposed to go with the leather choker and gold Tory sandals!”

“But they look the same!”

He did not see the difference! “They are not!  Look!”

“I give up!  Why don’t you just wear that purple spaghetti-strapped dress that I really like?”

“Oh my god!  You don’t get it!  Thanks for your help!”  Then I stormed out of the room.

I thought I heard a faint, What did I say? come of out his mouth as I left.

I came back and wore a white tube dress, no necklace and black Havaianas.

My partner saw me and said, “You look great.”  However, it sure sounded more like an apology.

“Thanks.”  But you’re not getting any from me tonight, I said to myself. I then gave him a sneaky smile.  Ha, victory is mine!

I know what you’re thinking.  But it can’t be that bad.  I love my partner.  I adore him. I just wanted to get even.

Male readers, I know it’s complicated.  But women get this curse and we have to face this battle against hormones every month.

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