My Earlobes Still Feel Fat

Because their album, Twelve Stops and Home, got me through a really tough workout, finishing just as my iPod lost power on the way to the car. Serendipitous . Also, I just adore that album. It's great for driving and singing along to, especially 'Rosè,' an ode to the wine. PS On another note, there were so many skinny girls in the gym today, and I felt irrationally offended. I feel like kicking them out. If you're naturally thin (which these firm-skinned, slender types clearly are), then why would you torture yourself at the gym? The only reason I can think of is that they want to be even thinner/hotter, and I guess that offends me. I know it's selfish but if this is the BEST I can do, and I'm still three times their size, why do they have to go and make me feel even worse by showing off how easy it is for them to go from svelte to svelter?

I just finished a yoga/pilates/ballet workout, and I felt the need to vent. I feel like yoga is supposed to make me more centered, more peaceful and one with my body, etc. And it does, when I can manage to not look at myself while I’m doing it. But when I do succumb to the temptation to look at my body in the poses, as I usually do, I feel the opposite of what I should. Instead of peace and harmony I feel rage and frustration. This is especially true during downward dog, when I can’t help but look at my legs, the contracted thigh muscles lost under a rippling, hanging sea of excess flesh. I know, I know, I shouldn’t do yoga in shorts (or undies and a tee, which is usually my lazy at-home workout outfit). But it seems to me that covering up the problem is only a short-term solution. Of course, staring furiously at the problem and fucking up my chakra (or whatever) doesn’t seem like any sort of solution at all. What I really want is a quick-fix (or a slow, guaranteed fix), but I do...

Check out this opinion piece by Nia Vardalos, the writer and star of one of my fave chick flicks, My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I love that she not only makes some really great points, but she also proves her mettle as a writer, beyond movie dialogue (which is tough enough!).

So I feel like I should explain that last post. In fact, I thought about deleting it, because on reflection (after a night of sleep and weird non-bodily dreams) I can see how it would really disturb people, but the point of this blog isn't to show you guys what you already see when we're face to face or on the phone. It's to show people the straight, honest truth of how I feel in this mishmash of confidence and depression post-GB. And in the interest of a frank look at my body issues, I'm not holding back. I know that can be scary, especially when I say things about cleavers and such, but the thing you have to try to remember is this: I don't make spontaneous decisions about my life. I don't even make spontaneous travel plans! So you can pretty much rest assured that I will never just hack off a hip, no matter how appealing that option may seem in the moment. I'll always sleep on it, and I think if it got really bad I'd probably call a hotline or s...

I'm so tired of being trapped in this body. How many times in the last few months have I posted about my body making me miserable? Honestly I feel like it's just the story of my life. I'm living out a life sentence in a horrible cell that I can't seem to change at all. And the worst part is that whoever is holding me here lets me out every now and then, liberates me from the prison of fat and self-loathing, and I get to smell the wildflowers and frolic in the meadows and all that great stuff, but then the alarm sounds and the dogs bark and before I know it I'm incarcerated again. And the really fucked up thing is that I'm living two (or more) lives: one of me is constantly trapped in these body issues (and not just the image, but the reality of my weight and my size and all the exercise and dieting in the world not making a dent in the cellulite), and the other lives this great life, with fabulous friends and a hilarious family and a wonderful, supportive boy...

Courtesy of my friend Derek, here's a fairly hilarious bit from The Onion that's quasi-related to the last post (if mildly offensive to the point i was trying to make!).

So I'm watching my trashy TV (VH1, 'nuff said), and unfortunately it isn't recorded so I can't fast-forward through the commercials. Or maybe that's fortunate, because if I could fast-forward I would have missed something that made me really happy: an advertisement for Nair Shower Power. Why, you ask, would I want to see a Nair ad? I mean, I don't even use Nair, because my skin is super sensitive and breaks out (although, according to the ad, the new Nair is great for sensitive skin!). But I saw something that made me hit instant replay twice , and I was pleased to discover that my eyes had not been deceived. The ad showed four women doing some kind of choreographed dance in the usual Nair style: short shorts, high heels, lots of leg. But this time something was different. One of the girls was normal, or, dare I say, a little thick ! Now, Nair ads have always featured borderline normal-looking women. Slender, but not stick-figures (which makes sense, becau...