I heard from friends that when you go to Europe, you're either poor and starving and you drop a bunch of weight or you can actually afford to eat the food and drink the beer and you gain 10 lbs.

If those are the choices then I am part of the second group. In spite of walking 10 miles + a day, I am definitely starting to put on a few pounds.

Now I'm supposed to say that it's so great, and that I'm realizing how superficial Americans are, and how I feel so much more healthy and free being away from the societal constraints of weight management, etc. I'm supposed to say that to show how worldly and non-superficial I am becoming, and how much this trip is expanding my mind, but unfortunately I can't.

Because I don't feel that way.

Because I know that in the end, I am coming back to America where I have clothes that I have to fit into, and a work out routine to get back to. And where, like it or not, women are definitely subject to judgement for being overweight.

And societal pressure aside, I like the energy I used to get from 8 hours sleep a night, 8 glasses of water a day, and a regular intake of vegetables, and I liked the way I felt about "getting in shape." (In case you didn't guess, none of that is happening now.)

I wish I could stop worrying about this sort of thing, but even more than that I wish my body would just cut me a break and realize we'll be going back to normal soon enough. Sometimes bread and beer and beef is all there is, so it would be nice if my body would cut me some slack!