Sunday, April 25, 2004


I like him enough to spend four nights in a row with him. We spend alot of our time in the car smoking, singing loudly to Latino rock songs he thinks I shouldn't know. Every once in a while he'll take a bad digital pic of me. We talk alot. He talks alot about when he was fat. Now he is small and slim, with veiny hands. It seems as if he lives mainly on protein bars and bottles of water, evidenced by a monument of empty water bottles in the backseat of his car.

I have seen only a picture of face when he was fat. He still looks cute to me and I tell him so. Some of the pictures we took last night at a club disturbed him. He said his fat self was coming back. Then on the way home after I put my achey fishnetted feet up on the dash, he leaned over and grabbed my calve. He said I needed to tone. Exercise. The other day he said something about my arms being flabby. I told him how obnoxious that was and that I was happy with the way I was and that I would exercise on my own terms. He apologized.

When I spoke to my best girl today, she told me that he has fat issues. She said that he refered to a girl as a whale and how he couldn't understand how a fat person could be happy.

When we first started talking he sent me some pages of the novel he is writing. Fat is a theme.

I tried to tell him about sizism and how it especially effects women and he wasn't hearing it. Maybe he was worried that he looked fat.


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