The voices in my head are singing Inside Job by Don Henley.

I’m reading The Overlook by Michael Connelly.

Okay, so it’s January, and here’s where I typically resolve to try a new diet, and to exercise everyday. As previously mentioned, I’ve tried them all, most recently South Beach, and I’m here to testify: none of them work. Or they all do if you stick to them, and there’s the rub. When it comes to food, I have no self-discipline.

Since Thanksgiving, I’ve had one long food orgy, and until Monday, not one of the things I’ve eaten has been healthy. Hard to figure out why I’ve had a cold since mid-November.

So, here’s my new plan: I hereby resolve NEVER to diet again. I will not try the new fad diet, whatever it is, nor retry any of the old ones. I’m setting out on a plan to eat myself healthy (really healthier, as I’m generally in great health except for the extra pounds I’m tired of toting around and the cold, but it sounds more dramatic that way).

I’m going to eat my veggies. I’m going to do the thing they’ve been pounding into my brain since birth and eat mostly fruits and vegetables, with moderate amounts of lean protein, dairy, and whole grains. I’m not counting anything or measuring anything, and I’ll eat what I want when I want it. I hereby grant myself permission to have a cheeseburger whenever I want one.

This, I think, is the key. I suspect the biggest reason I can’t stick to a diet is I despise ceding control to someone else. I hate studying books and websites to figure out what I can and can’t have, then trying to cook something from the allowed ingredients that tastes good. No more.

Each week, I’ll put veggies and fruits on my grocery list, and I’ll eat the ones I like best. I’ll prepare them the way I think sounds good.

I started Monday. So far so good. I’ve a had a salad every day for either lunch or dinner. I bet if I did count the calories, I’d be where most diets say I should be. But I refuse to count. The one thing I will measure is myself. I’ll step on the scales once a week and not obsess.

This is my New Year’s Revolution.

Peace, out…

Susan

P.S. Oh, the exercise thing… I’ll be back on the dance floor as soon as all these veggies kick the cold out of my chest. The Queen of Pain is losing patience.

Monday was the first day of my brand new diet. I’m trying South Beach this time. I think I’m the only person in the known universe who hasn’t, and most everyone I know that’s tried it lost weight. So far, the food is surprisingly good, and I haven’t had to eat anything strange.

The weirdest diet I can recall embarking on was that Beverly Hills fruit diet many moons ago. That one had un-fun side effects. I seem to remember the woman who wrote the book saying that of course you sat on the toilet all the time–how else would you get rid of the weight? Fat doesn’t just jump off your thighs…

Then, there was Atkins. I am not a pork lover, and, I have to tell you, eating pork rinds and a lot of bacon was not my thing. Also, if you eat too much of the Atkins candy, you’re right back in the bathroom.

I thought about getting some of that Alli stuff that’s all over the TV, but have you heard about the side effects? According to Consumer Price Watch dot net, possible side effects include:

• Flatulence (Bad enough.)
• Oily anal discharge (What is that all about???)
• Loose stools or diarrhea (Yuk!)
• More frequent bowel movements (Yuk again.)
• Hard-to-control bowel movements (Now, this one would not make you popular.)

Once again, one would be spending quite a lot of time in the loo. As nice as the bathroom in our new house is, I really don’t want to spend my days there. Seems like it might be difficult to balance a laptop on your knees while sitting on the toilet.

Up until now, most of my dieting has been of the garden-variety counting calories persuasion. This, I get bored with in no time flat. I hate having one more thing to keep up with. Plus, I tend to cheat. I don’t look up how many calories are in each thing–I estimate. Some of my estimations are suspect. Like, for example, I used to estimate that the Carolina Club salad at Ruby Tuesday’s had about 400 calories. It’ s a salad, right?

According to their website, it actually has 996 calories, and as far as I can tell, that’s without the dressing.

I tried eating only things that come with labels that confess the number of calories, like Lean Cuisines, but The Queen of Pain insists that I shouldn’t eat food that comes in a box.

So…I’ve stocked the kitchen with veggies and lean protein. I bought a new set of scales, having thrown the old ones out on account of they lied. Today is Day Three, and so far I haven’t cheated–really.

We’ll see how long this lasts.

Peace, out…

Susan