Life, thinner

It was a beautiful morning this morning. Bright blue sky, sun shining, a fresh breeze. I had a dentist appointment; just the regular six-month check-up. I decided to walk; it's only about 25 minutes away, and it's good to get some exercise.

Hair freshly washed, I donned some nice clothes - black trousers, black silky undershirt, white fitted shirt, black thin choker, big hoop earrings. (I've discovered, incidentally, that black under white is a very nice look). I started walking, listening to my ipod. Half way there, there was a cab pulling out of the driveway in front of me. I wasn't really looking at the cab driver, I was just listening to my music but then he caught my eye and smiled/nodded. So I smiled back, then went on my way.

Then he drove up behind me and spent the next five minutes trying to persuade me to go out with him. He was cute, young, not gross like some cab drivers who seem to think you'll want to date them even when they're clearly twenty years older than you. I smiled and kept walking, he kept pursuing. Eventually he gave me his phone number, and managed to wrangle my name out of me - but not my number.

I'm not going to call him. I'm not being a snob, honestly, but I can't see myself with a cab driver. Not for reasons of prestige, or class, but of common interest/intellect/intelligence. And I'm not one to be interested in 'a bit of fun'. It's just not me. Still, it was flattering, and nice. Put more of a spring in my step.

Then I got to the dentist - I had an appointment with the hygienist, then the dentist. Hygienist, female, starts with compliments on my appearance, and asks how I do it, whether I'm in the gym all the time. Nope, says I, but I eat low-carb. A short discussion on that, with her doing most of the talking, since by that point she's got her equipment in my mouth. When we finish up, and she says she'll see me again in six months, she says something along the lines of "don't go getting any thinner!". I say, well, twenty pounds, maybe fifteen, I hope. She replies "ok, fifteen, maybe, but definitely not twenty."

Quite amazing to think I'm that close to goal that people would tell me I don't need to lose any more weight.

Then I have my appointment with the dentist - male, married, attractive, mildly flirtatious. He starts off with telling me I'm looking good. I tell him he does too. He makes a comment on how nice it is to start the day complimenting each other, and having made each other smile, he's off to work checking out my teeth. He finds a small cavity - so I'll be going back in a couple weeks to get that sorted out.

Then I walked home. Catching quite a few second looks from men I walked past.

It really is a very nice, very fitted white shirt.

Incidentally, the scale is continuing to be recalcitrant. In the two weeks that I've been dieting hard, I've gone from 153.2, down to 151.8, back up to 155, down to 152.2, and then this morning, up to 153.8 again. Averaging 1200 calories a day, with no splurges or carbs. I'm in mid-cycle, so that might account for the current spike; that does happen to me sometimes. I'm trying not to let it get to me, and telling myself to keep track of what I *should* now weigh, given the calorie deficit I'm in (151.2 by now), and my body will catch on eventually. It's happened before - I'm a plateau and whoosh kind of gal.

The kind of experiences I've had today do make it easier to deal with the frustrations of the scale.

There are pages more I could write about this ugly duckling turned almost swan, and I will, and they will be hard, painful posts...but right now I just wanted to record today's events, with a smile - and get back to work.