OUT­SIDE THE BOX

Love and love han­dles

GA Voice - - Arts Reviews - By BILL KAELIN

Ev­ery­thing is bet­ter when you are in love. The air seems cleaner; birds sing louder, food tastes amaz­ing and al­co­hol is even sweeter. Life has been good for my boyfriend, Shawn, and I this first year. We have ex­pe­ri­enced a lot, done some trav­el­ing, had some great laughs and in­dulged in great food with plenty of cock­tails to wash it all down. I no­ticed re­cently while pulling out my spring clothes that as a re­sult of all the in­dul­gence, I had put on some se­ri­ous love pounds. Shirts were tighter, pants more snug. I fig­ured it was just win­ter weight that needed to be shed un­til a se­ries of signs showed me that I was living in a skinny-fat per­son pur­ga­tory just like I read about re­cently in a popular Face­book post.

The first sig­nal re­gard­ing my new size was when I had the honor of roast­ing Ni­cole Paige Brookes for her 20th Drag An­niver­sary. I was a ner­vous wreck, won­der­ing how the guest panel of drag queens was go­ing to ride my ass. In­stead, Edie Cheezburger made a joke about the size of my ass. “When­ever I see Bill Kaelin I don’t know if he is re­ally mus­cu­lar or just re­ally bloated.” Her crack to­tally made me laugh, but re­minded me that hu­mor is the good-na­tured side of truth.

My ac­coun­tant also weighed in on the is­sue. Eva is a sassy, tell-it-like-it-is Asian woman with an at­ti­tude and ac­cent that will make the hair on the back of your neck stand up when she scolds you. Upon com­ple­tion of this year’s tax re­turn, I was caught off-guard when she grabbed my love han­dles and wagged her fin­ger at me, say­ing: “You drink too much beer.” Feel­ing like a stuffed sausage, I shook my head in agree­ment and promised her I would cut back while qui­etly telling my­self how fucked up this was.

The skinny-fat syn­drome strug­gle is real. I have had a 32-inch waist for­ever, but now my 32s give me the blues, but a size 34 falls to the floor. My medium-sized T-shirts that I could eas­ily slide into were now mak­ing me mis­er­able; but a large looks like I’m wear­ing a muumuu. Los­ing weight isn’t as easy as it was when I would smoke a daily pack of cig­a­rettes, drink Red Bull for break­fast and dance at Back­street un­til the sun came up. It’s not the ’90s any­more, and I had to find a healthy al­ter­na­tive for shed­ding the pounds. For­tu­nately, I found it with “dtox or­ganic juice and junk” in Mid­town.

Dtox has a pro­gram called the Clean and Lean Cleanse that, thank­fully, also in­cludes real food. It is a weight-loss pro­gram with a se­ries of elixirs that cleanse, juices like the “Lean Mean and Green” that are nu­tri­tious, and ready-to-eat lunches like a de­li­cious col­lard wrap with almond dip­ping sauce. There was more than enough fresh, raw juice and good­ies to last un­til din­ner, and thanks to Shawn’s clean-eat­ing grilling skills, I got back in the habit of eat­ing at home in the evenings.

I could tell my stom­ach had phys­i­cally shrunk, caus­ing me to de­sire less food by Day 2. I had com­mit­ted to do­ing the dtox for two weeks while hav­ing week­ends off. My first break was Easter week­end, and af­ter di­gest­ing too many Peeps I was ready to get back to my greens.

I lost eight pounds by the end of the pro­gram, I felt great. My skin was glow­ing, I had tons of en­ergy and I was sleep­ing like a baby. Dtox is like a healthy, old-fash­ioned home milk de­liv­ery ser­vice with hip glass bot­tles dropped off at your front door. It re­sets your taste buds, turns back time on your body and is worth ev­ery penny; es­pe­cially when it means you don’t have to buy a new spring wardrobe. I’m still not skinny, but I’m not fat, ei­ther. I have found peace some­where in the mid­dle, and I feel like a mil­lion bucks.

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