Sorry folks… as usual time has slipped away from me. I was consumed by my studies, research and exams and as a result I have neglected you. So, I will do the best to fill you in on the (not so) exciting adventures that have occurred since my last post.
Confessions of a Binge Eater: I ended my fast two weeks ago and question why I bothered? I am right back to square one. Although I have noticed a lack of desire for consuming mass quantities of wine, I successfully have binged twice. Both on Saturday night (yesterday and last week). I also have decided that I am compulsively self destructive as I can’t leave any blemish or cuticle on my hands or face alone. My fingers are dry from the shitty climate we have been experiencing and as a result i have managed to successfully destroy five out of ten of my fingers. Despite the fact that visually they are disgusting, unappealing and should be camouflaged by bandages so the general public is not exposed to my insanity, they hurt like hell and it makes it hard to do much of anything. The sad thing… I know this, I recognize this but I cannot stop. Same with the zit on my face which had gone beyond zit and now is just an over sized scab from what used to be a normal sized pimple.
So as mentioned, last night I went on a fucking huge eating binge after arriving from a very late dinner date that almost spiraled out of control (not in a good way). To make things worse I am experiencing planter fasciitis which is when the bottom of your heel on your foot is stressed and inflamed, making running not only difficult, but somewhat painful. At the moment, no running for me which is pretty bad when you just chowed down on a billion of calories mostly in the form of carbohydrates at the ripe ol hour of 4AM. I keep telling myself, it only happens once or twice a week, and what I binge on is much healthier than McDonald’s and I run. Its no excuse, but it makes me feel better. However, if I continue to do this I am going to put my weight back on and I can already see that happening.
So first step, admitting you have a problem. And do I ever. I am a binge eater, no doubt about it. I am self-destructive too, I suppose this means deep down inside I am not the happy little Tobi I would like to be. I binge, I fast, I mutilate and I have a fucked up perspective on what I see when I see myself looking back at me. Moderation and not picking at things seems physically incapable at the moment. At this point I don’t know what I need to do.
So… after exposing you (the general public) to my quirks and emotional misgivings, lets get to the dirt… shall we?
The Night From Hell: Wow! What a fucking nightmare. It started off alright but turned really ugly, really quick. Let see…. where shall I start. The guy – I have mentioned him in a past blog, nothing really special, waiter from my favorite veggie place here in Madrid (he no longer works there, thank goodness) Latino, tolerable, for the most part very chill and good mannered. The scenario – After not hearing from him for a bit he calls me up and tells me he got a new job very close to where I live and wants to know if I want to meet him for drinks. OK, sure no problem. We meet around 5:30 and head to a local bar and have a few drinks…. then we move to another bar, and then another, and then another…. at this point (around 10:30) I tel him I cannot continue without eating. This is obviously a guy who lives off of beer. I had actually stopped drinking (something I have gotten a control of since my last fast) and switched to water but at the same time had a pounding headache from the previous glasses of wine I had drank at the first establishment. You guys with me here?
The last bar we were at was actually pretty cool, and I was a little sad to leave it because I was meeting some really nice local people. Crazy locals, but nonetheless nice ones. One, a chick named Carmen, who happens to live literally right down the road. We exchanged numbers and I hope to hang out with her soon. So the guy I am with decides he wants to go into the city for dinner. I was actually perfectly content with returning to my house at this point but he insisted that we go to dinner. We went for Cuban at about midnight. Always good for the body and ones health to eat yucca, plantains and for me a salad this late at night… but I needed food and better late than never. Too bad I did not stop there….
Once we left my “date” was trying to get me to go back to his place and this my friends is where things took a nasty turn for the worst. Let me start off by saying that I attempted to share the cost of all of the drinks as well as dinner and was told not to worry about it. I did by a few drinks but he covered the majority of the tabs… Around here you have to be very careful of that because when the guy pays, he expects to be getting laid in return. Trouble with that is, I am not a fucking whore and its gonna take more than wine and fried plantains to get me to sleep with you. Now don’t get me wrong… I actually thought this guy was ok. He was young, actually I had also found out that he had lied to me about his age. I thought he was in his late 20′s and it turns out he is only 24. Just turned 24 as well…..
OK… back to the story… This guy was not taking no for an answer. In addition he only speaks Spanish, making it slightly frustrating for me to successfully express whats on my mind in a manner he can understand. After going back and forth with him for I dunno, 40 minutes or so, I lost my patience and did what I do best. I pulled out the ugly Tobi. The Tobi you don’t want to be around. The nasty, quick tongued, bitchy one. I was pissed off at this point and just put a very poignant end to it all. All the metros we closed and I wound up having to walk back home putting me at my house, locked in my room, scarfing down food at 4AM. This is how I know I have issues. Its a really sad state of affairs.
Barcelona: I am not going to get into too much detail, partially because there really is not much detail to be said here. I went to Barcelona for Semana Santa. It was my second time going to the city that everyone raves about and once again, it was shitty weather. The city is nicer than Madrid, in the sense that it is much cleaner and surrounded by water, but Madrid feels like home and to be quite honest I enjoy it more.
In Barcelona I stayed with a friend in his gigantic flat that I assume costs a fortune. I am not really sure what he does for work but he is not hurting for assets. He has a gorgeous flat, drives a BMWX5 but destroys everything with his disgusting cigarette habit among other dependencies I discovered. The entire time I was there our sleeping schedules were opposite of one another. I would sleep during the hours of 2AM until 10AM and he would sleep during the hours of 8AM until 8PM. All in all my host was extremely gracious and kind, and I was quite lucky to have been able to stay there and pretty much have run of the mill.
I will say this. Smoking is disgusting and I cannot tolerate it. I cannot stand the smell nor can I breathe and I find myself getting angry when I am surrounded by it. I feel it is in complete violation of my airspace. My entire weekend in Barcelona was uneventful and infested in cigarette smoke. I literally had to wash every single thing I owned the moment I returned. Literally, quite disgusting.
Intermission: I am taking a break. If you guys are luck I will post again later tonight!
Posted: April 19th, 2009 under Uncategorized.