  7:19 a.m. Wednesday, Day 211. How do I feel? Repeat of yesterday. Pretty good, but suffering some allergy symptoms. I've been sleeping well considering Bucko is gone, so that helps. I took a small piece of Actifed before bed last night, but it doesn't seem to have helped with the baggy eyes.
Well, it's not like I'm having my school picture today. 1205 calories yesterday. Very low, and so was Monday. Today will be somewhat higher, since I'm making pot roast and will be drinking some amount of wine. Also making mashed potatoes (fat-free yogurt substituted for milk and butter), steamed carrots, and probably salad.
Also I bought ground beef on sale (99 cents a pound), so I'm having hamburger for lunch. It's pretty high in calories — 191 for a 3-oz patty — so I will definitely be at my upper limit or above. I borrowed a couple movies from the neighbors: How To Lose a Guy in Ten Days and Saving Private Ryan. How To Lose was just intolerably stupid and dull and I couldn't watch it. I mean, I wasn't expecting a brilliant classic, just something entertaining and fun. It was neither. It's the same kind of zany romantic comedy that was popular in the thirties and forties, but the things is, with such silly, unbelievable plots, you have to compensate with witty dialogue and engaging characters (imagine Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn). Let's just say there was no compensation going on here. I must be the last person on earth to see Saving Private Ryan, and I am quite impressed.
The cinematography and editing style all work together to bring you a sense of the contradictions of battle — the dilated time sense, the numbness, the moments of intense clarity, the choppiness of movements, the discontinuity between this moment and the next. Really really good, and I highly recommend it to anyone who hasn't seen it. It's emotionally exhausting, though. Not a feel-good movie (yet strangely, not a feel-bad movie either). Today I'm thinking about something the daughter of a friend said to me.
Several adults in her life have lost significant amounts of weight recently, and we were talking about weight loss. While she thinks it's good, she also comments that she doesn't quite understand it, because she just wouldn't "let herself get that way. " She's not quite 16, so I wasn't wounded by what she said, but it did get under my skin a little.
I didn't have a reply, really, because I wasn't sure that what I wanted to say was entirely acceptable. I was thinking "Let myself GET this way? I've ALWAYS been this way. " But I didn't want to say anything that sounded like "It's someone else's fault I'm fat. " On the other hand, damned if I think it's my fault! I was born fat. I was fat as a two year old, a six year old, a 20 year old. Now seriously, how much are you going to hold a toddler responsible for her weight? Are you going to lecture an infant on her formula intake and put her on a treadmill? I didn't suddenly become fat as an adult; the condition was determined long before I had any control over it. As an adult, I make a huge distinction between the idea of responsibility versus blame. I do not at all believe it is my "fault" that I'm fat.
But I do believe that I'm personally responsible for what I do about it, if for no other reason that at this point in time, there is no magic pill. The only known method is dieting and exercising, and no one else can do that for me. Of course, as I'm writing this I realize that there is at least one other way — weight loss surgery.
I've never considered it as an option, though I probably qualify for it. I'm not sure exactly what my antipathy is; I'll have to think it through before I can write about it. I suppose, for the short answer, I don't really believe it's safe, but that's an emotional reaction, nothing I have any proof of. 4:08 p.m. Just got back from the kitty. I made sure to wash my hands and face a couple times while I was there, and I think it helped. Watched a few minutes of TV with him. Charlie's Angels (the second one I think) was on. Now, that looks like an amusing movie. Not brilliant, but fun. So maybe I'll rent that sometime. 
