07 September 2017

Linguini? Alfredo? what the hell?!

Dear, lovely American friends,
on average, you are adorable, but sometimes I wonder how can you be so delusional?
So please brace yourself for this truth:
No such thing as Linguini Alfredo, or Fettuccine Alfredo exists in Italy.
In addition, Linguini's real name is Linguine

How comes that in 2017 the NYT still reports this kind of recipes and tags them as Italian?

Having taken this off chest, let's move on

after a wedding in the south, a few days of good old style work related stress managed to make me drop 4lbs in two days.
of course now I'll head out for celebratory drinks, effectively fucking all the small progress done so far.

24 August 2017

Vacation, hiking, binges and so on

Cape Verte it was.
Sal Island. Honestly? a shitty place, but hey, I did spend lazy lazy hours just suntanning and reading. i needed it. We needed it.
Before that, we went hiking through Simplonpass (in the middle of the Alps, not far from where my family lives).

Hiking was so good that, before leaving for Cape Verte, I bought myself these
(of course the pic is from the net it is not me)

As soon as we got there I realized three things:
i) Sal Island is a shithole
ii) the food was disgusting (wait before thinking that was good news)
iii) virtually everyone staying in the hotel had severe diarrhea

WARNING: things start getting guresome from now on

Now, as much as I sometimes indulge purging (although in these occasions I vomit), due to years and years of big stomach issues when I was a teenager and later, I am fucking scared of eating something that will make me sick.
I spent one week eating (with no restrictions whatsoever) only two things: fries and boiled white rice.

And now I'm back, 6 pounds heavier. fuckfuckfuck.
Let's forget about those short shorts, okay?
It's time to restrict and get back to some serious training

05 August 2017

conversation on a working saturday

"Should we plan a vacation?"
"We are so tired and exhausted we probably should. Let's go somewhere where the beach is amazing, the sea is blue and everything is quiet"

I've seen the world, done it all, had my cake
the crazy days, the city lights, the way you play with me like a child

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?
Will you still love me, when I've nothing but an aching soul?
I know you will
Will you still you me when I'm no longer beautiful?

Lana Del Rey soothes me and at the same time manages to nag something deep inside me

Oh S, my love. I so ache for a vacation with you. We've been working for 5 weeks straight with only two days off.
I so long to be in the sun. I am so horrified at how I look in a bikini right now
This is so wrong, but as long as we are together I'll make things work, I promise

14 July 2017

Skinny is a rule (Remembering B)

There's a rule that states: if you don't make love at the third date, you are not sure of yourself
There's a story that says who eats an apple commits the worst sin ever
It is so normal thinking... that this life is awesome, even though sometimes it's bringing me down (something's bringing me down), and that Skinny is a rule, that you tried to explain to me, I'll never forget it. I remember the street where I promised I was going to change, but I did not understand how, how do you do it.

There's a rule that states you need a tight gap to be more normal
There's a story that says you need to be skinny to be happy
There is a rule that states that if you need dieting you are a wrong person, like me
It is so normal thinking... that this life is awesome, even though sometimes it's bringing me down (it's bringing us down and down), and that Skinny is a formula you tried to teach me, I'll never forget it
I remember the summer I sworn I would not go there (I would never be fat again), but you never told me if you saved me.
Yes this life is amazing, even though sometimes it brings me down, something brings me down. Maybe Skinny is a rule only you knew, but I'll never forget you.

I didn't start, and I never understood whether you saved me or doomed me, I never understood how to do it, I never understood.

The past is like a handful of dust: it filters through your fingers, disappearing little by little.
I wish that, for one day, I could go back.
In another life, I would do things differently

11 July 2017


I step in to the dressing room and strip off my trousers.

It's not simply warm, it's hot. This summer is taxing all of us in this hot, sticky city. I used to love that at night the cold never came during the summer month, and I could simply spend hours hanging out in denim shorts or in a nice short dress, revealing my lean, long legs.
I come from the Alps, and I used to think that it's not late until it gets cold, so when I moved here, 18 years old and 110 pounds, with a BMI barely touching 17.5, I loved that part.
It's true that climate has changed since then, and now we have 38° (100.4F) at 7PM.

My whole body is breaking a sweat, which is not strange as I decided again to walk the 4km from work to home in this temperature - then again, this helps shaking off the stress from the day (and, a little nagging voice adds in my mind, it only helps minimally with the carbs I gorged at lunch).
I feel strange and suddenly I wonder if a minor earthquake is happening (that's not so uncommon here, and nothing to worry about). But no one seems to notice in the shop, so I grab the size 4 trousers I have to try on and finally realize my legs are shaking.

I sit down and think if I walked too much in the heat or something. I take a big breath and no, my blood pressure is not low. It's anxiety. It's anxiety that I may not fit in a fucking pair of what we call size 42.
I'm fucking 35 years old.
And I stumble in fear that a stupid pair of trousers I don't even like may not fit. And I'm not even in public. I need to get hold of myself.