Calamari Safari

Ok, so there's this restaurant here on the Upper West Side. It's called Carmine's. It's an Italian place.

Before last night I had never been there.

Italian spells trouble for me. Pasta, parmesan cheese, garlic bread, etc etc etc. You might as well put me in front of a firing squad, 'cause I'm going down for sure.

It was a friend's birthday the other night, and we wound up at Carmine's, where every dish -- and I'm not exaggerating here -- is big enough to feed five adults. You can't order anything as a single portion. It's all 'family style.'

It started out ok. Stuffed mushroom appetizers -- and that's the one dish that's not insanely huge. We each had a few. Then someone ordered fried calamari.

I was a prisoner of war (the birthday wars), blindfolded and standing against the wall, just praying for a quick death. The ordering of the calamari was the moment when the condemned prisoner hears the executioner's pistol cock.

Oh yes. My fate was sealed just then.

But folks, I died a noble death. I went out with honor.

I ate a large portion of calamari (with lemon and sometimes marinara sauce, but avoided the creamy tartar).

But I stopped eating after that. I didn't stuff myself with the garlic bread. I didn't dive into the (obscenely) huge plate of chicken parmigiana with spaghetti that followed. I even said no to dessert.

And today I did not follow it up with a binge. I did not allow any permissive eating. I wanted a muffin for breakfast, but that simply could not happen given what I'd inhaled the night before.

I had cottage cheese (small serving), an apple, later a banana, and later a 110 calorie snack bar. For lunch, much much later, I had soup from Hale and Hearty.

I went on a Calamari Safari last night, but I managed not to get lost in the wild.

Developing My Long Game

I'm all about the sports analogies today because the French Open is on. Nothing like staring at The Tennis Channel endlessly to make you feel like a slug.

I spent most of this week running around like crazy for work. I managed to walk in the mornings and get in some decent gym time, but not as much as I would have liked.

This weekend had some challenges...some handled well, others not.

Friday was a crazy day. Had time for my usually yummy breakfast. But no lunch until late in the day. And dinner was even later -- and I really feel like I shouldn't have eaten it all. I wasn't really hungry at that point, and it was like 10pm. The good news is that I did have a healthy lunch even though I was starving and it was about 5pm (I'd had breakfast at 8am). It was soup and a half sandwich, carefully calorie-counted.

Saturday was decent, regular breakfast, soup for lunch, cashews for snack, and a dinner out. I split a shrimp cocktail with the B/F and for dinner had the fresh scallops. Love them, and they are incredibly low-calorie and high protein. Of course, it came on a pile of creamy asparagus risotto. You know that was loaded with butter.

No dessert, but a few bites of the B/F/s apple tart. And of course, a couple glasses of wine with dinner. Sigh..the wine continues to be a problem.

Sunday was an afternoon party for a friend. In a deli, no less. It was one of those shower things that are full of all sorts of people you don't know and forced gaiety and tons and tons of food. Ugh.

I'd say I did pretty good, choices considering. One piece of bread, a piece of chicken (skin removed), one small potato pancake hors d'ouevre, a small piece of stuffed cabbage and beets.

I was really looking forward to the dessert cake, thinking it would have to be delicious. It was not. At all. Of course, I was insanely disappointed by that.

But I'm happy that I put the cake down once I realized it wasn't any good. In the past, I'd have eaten it anyway. This time I was able to quite reasonably tell myself there was no point in eating something that tasted gross just because it was cake.

But once I got home (hours later than I wanted), things went downhill. I had wine when I didn't need to have a glass (breaking my Sat-night only rule), and then cheese and crackers.

It was -- if not a binge exactly -- a lot of unnecessary eating. I wasn't hungry at all. I was tired, and cranky, and just a wee bit unhappy, I think.

I struggled a bit this morning with the negativity backlash -- flickers of shame and anger and self-loathing (and frustration and irritation and disgust). Then I decided to let it go. There's just no point in beating yourself up -- what's done is done. Even Serena Williams has her off days. But she always comes back, doesn't she?

I am an emotional eater, and I think that urge is always going to be there -- especially when I'm tired and cranky.

So...I'm not feeling great today, but it's been worse. At most I put on a few pounds on the scale since Saturday.

On the other hand, my skinny jeans are ever so slowly getting looser around the hips and upper thighs. If it weren't for my "problem area" I'd already be down another size, I think, because these jeans gape awfully at the waist and are baggy everywhere but that section.

But you know me -- pear-shaped loser to the end! Progress is being made, it's just very sllllloooooooowwwwww.