Basia
It all started oh so innocently. You see, my older sister did not want to eat at all, my parents had to dress up and sing and dance to make her have some food so when I was born my dad, who at that time was going back and forth to East Germany (I was born in Poland) started bringing all sorts of formulas to increase my appetite. The formulas worked, I was eating everything that didn't scream too much or run away too quickly. At that time in Poland at the grocery stores you could find only some vinegar and cheese (or marmalade if you were very lucky) so the chubby kid was pride and joy of the whole family and we lived happily ever after.
Sort of.
When I was 12 my dad moved to the USA and started sending packages! Only those who lived in second and third world countries know what it feels like to finally have chocolate and cocoa powder and tang and nesquick and peanut butter and all the goods known and unknown (my sister and I used to eat marshmallows raw because we couldn't read the instructions, they were not that good, neither was the gel from the icepack which we tried as well, that's when I decided I need to learn English).
So anyways, chocolate equals love and my dad used to love us a lot. Then he died, Poland became a free country, and chocolate was at the stores and it soothed the pain so well I started having problems fitting into any pants. That's when the mad dieting started and the weight would go up and down, but more up than down. Where was the gravity when I needed it?!
I've gone through some major personal storms, I moved across the ocean, then a continent, I've lived in a few states, done a few strange jobs but now I am all settled in Los Angeles, married to my best friend, bad-assed master of all evil bad-assery and I love my life, the only thing I don't love is my weight and as I cannot beat it into submission I am going to get rid of it. So there.
