Diet madness and anxiety

Hey friends! Remember our buddy the I Love America Diet? I finally edited some old footage for your delightful consumption. Brock and Cynthia and I made "ham and cheese crescent pinwheels" and were drunk and also there are silly America's Next Top Model-themed songs:



As mentioned in the headline, I am an unfortunate ball of anxious energy these days. This translates into procrastination, frustration over procrastination, and occasional emotional breakdowns that require watching all six parts of the BBC (AKA Firthy Version) Pride and Prejudice miniseries in one sitting. But besides hating everything right now, ladies and gents, I has another funny friend! My buddy Rebekah (whom you may remember from her appearances in the french-toasted tuna sandwiches videos) is blogging about apartment living, household decor, pop culture references, nerdiness, and being generally amusing at The Apartment Dweller's Survival Guide. Go look at the pretty pretties and love it. I will try to churn out something creative soon if this last semester of taking classes and teaching doesn't COMPLETELY destroy my soul. Or I'll just work on the giant jigsaw puzzle on the floor some more (under 1500 pieces is a waste of time in my opinion).

Whatevs,
L

Understanding the basics of the I Love America Diet

This weekend my buddy Brock came over and worked on some I Love America Diet stuff. By finishing the birthday Kraken and taking one costumed late-night trip to Wal-Mart for supplies, we were able to produce enough material for two videos. This first lays out some basic elements of the diet and tells you how to manage your boozing in a skinny and patriotic way. The construction of the beef and cheese log to come soon!



(Excuse the video quality, I can only do so much with a built-in webcam and a really bright lamp on one side and whatever, it's good enough for comedy.)

The I Love America Diet

Oh hi America,

Sorry I haven't written in so long. The thing is, I've been busy solving your goddamn obesity crisis. You're welcome:

The internet is creepy sometimes

You guys, I'm spending this Never Forget Day never forgetting in sweats on my couch, experiencing the last throes of some sort of sudden and unfortunate stomach bug that befell me in the middle of social activities last evening. But anyway, so I was looking at the weather forecast, like you do, and saw this creepy ad (see crudely circled area):

Sure, we'd all like to look "hot" naked, but I don't think that involves being flayed first. Gross.

Apropos

My poor neighbor's recent illness made me think of this classic FotC clip:

Dear Abby: You kind of dropped the ball trying to help that nice fat lady

I guess nobody really wins this game, huh?

Don't get me wrong, my day feels incomplete if I don't read Dear Abby, the comics, and attempt the recycled NYT crossword puzzle in the Pioneer Press, but sometimes the Abb-ster really gets it wrong. On a lot of issues, she is refreshingly progressive, but once in a while I read her responses to letters and kind of want to cry. Like when she totally missed that a RAPE had been committed, or that column last year where she told that awesome rock-climbing chick to act more feminine and then maybe her guy friends would want to go out with her. Ka$h and I were so pissed off, we seriously discussed writing a response. But we probably got distracted playing the X-Files Drinking Game, and it never happened. Whatever. Yesterday's column certainly wasn't Abby's worst offense, but her response was certainly lacking. Here's the letter:

DEAR ABBY: Before her death, I promised my mother that I would not get fat like her. Now I'm finding it hard to keep that promise. Ever since we lost Mama, I have slowly gained a little each year. I have tried to lose, but all I do is look at food and I gain.

If this keeps up I'll become the size my mother was. Does that mean I failed her because I broke my promise? I feel so guilty. Please help me. -- JUST LIKE MY MAMA IN TEXAS

Dear Abby was pretty much just like, "Stop feeling guilty. Everybody gets fatter as they get older. But you should probably diet and exercise. Or maybe you have a binge eating disorder." I feel as though she could've been more helpful and/or affirming.

Let us break down all the things about this letter that are sad:

1. This lady's mom died. That sucks. Especially since it sounds like she wasn't very old.

2. There was obviously an unhealthy fixation on food and weight in this family for the mother to bring it up ON HER DEATHBED and force her daughter to promise not to get fat. Notice that there is no mention of the mother's weight being any sort of contributing factor to her ill health or death. Also, notice we have no clear idea of how "fat" is being defined in this woman's case.

3. Given that this poor woman is obviously fighting genetics by trying to stay thin, it's especially heartbreaking.

4. It seems as though the mother found a surefire way to guilt-trip from beyond the grave by extracting a promise whose fulfillment her daughter largely has no control over. I have to say that's not very nice.

JUST LIKE MY MAMA needs a big ol' dose of Fat Acceptance in her life. Please, JLMM, if you're out there reading this, a) you probably found me by Googling James K. Polk, and b) PLEASE go check out Shapely Prose. Seriously, that shit will change your life. I feel a little bit awkward talking about the whole Fat Acceptance thing since, well, I'm not really fat, and I feel like telling people who are fatter than me to accept their bodies makes me look like a self-righteous asshole. Sometimes I think that I'm not thin* enough, but then I remember that that is fucked up. I realize that since I fit most regular people's definition of "thin," I have never really experienced fat discrimination. But I do feel the pressure to be/stay skinny. I've never been super-obsessed, but I know I've still spent an unfortunate amount of time and energy hating my body. This is stupid. But we all do it. We're, like, required to do it, as women and girls. This doesn't make us stupid, but it does keep us from caring about more important shit.

Anecdotal section: My mother has been on a diet for as long as I can remember. As far as I know, she has never had an eating disorder and is basically healthy. BUT: she is a lifetime member of Weight Watchers, and that coupled with various scattered comments over the years makes it clear that she cares about her weight. And I know she cares about mine. She told me when I was about thirteen or fourteen (right when I stopped being a stick-thin kid and started thinking I was getting fat because my thighs were slightly thicker than rolling pins) that I would have a really big butt if I ever got fat. And though this may be an accurate observation, the fact remains that I remember to this day where we were (trying on clothes at an outlet store), and I immediately internalized the idea that my ass was big and damn, I better not get any fatter. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to blame my mom for some sort of nonexistent weight obsession, especially since I know we're all just reacting to outside pressure to conform to unattainable beauty standards. And I can thank The Sexy Gay Jesus that she would never be like JLMM's mom and try and make me feel like shit about a body type I inherited from her while on her deathbed.

BUT: I am still working on Fat Acceptance, even if my fat levels** are rather low. I mean, I know it's fucked up to enjoy the weight loss that comes as a side effect of my depression,*** but I do. So, what I'm saying is, Dear Abby, next time maybe you could direct people like JLMM towards something that can help them accept themselves for who they are, and learn to be healthy no matter their size, and to stop trying to live up to the ridiculous standards. The guilt has got to stop. Fat has no bearing on morality. Here, let me try:

Dear JLMM: STOP FEELING GUILTY. YOUR DEAD MOTHER IS DEAD. Your weight is nobody's business but your own, and mostly genetically determined anyway. YOU CAN GO AHEAD AND THANK YOUR DEAD MOTHER FOR THAT. I'm sorry for your loss, but she's gone and she shouldn't be able to make you feel bad about yourself anymore. Please learn to love yourself. And maybe admit that your mom kind of sucked.

Love and delicious baked goods and high-calorie fruity cocktails,
Lauren


BTW: My coworker just announced that she has 600 calories left for the day. That makes me sad.


*Or blonde! Obvs.

**Shut up, this is totally a scientific term.

***I've started calling the appetite suppression the "Depression Diet." Though Abby was right to mention disordered eating, especially since grief and depression does lead some people to overeat, though it doesn't sound like it applies in this case. It sounds like this woman's body is just doing what it's meant to do naturally, despite her mother's ridiculous dying wish.

My Top 3 Picks

With five contestants left, you might think trying to predict the top three America's Next Top Model-ites would be easy. And it is. This is who I think should be in it anyway. Dominique is too old and crazy, and Whitney is you know, plus-size. They'd never let her win. Although Fatima's been shaky, so I'm mostly just throwing her in there because she's really skinny and that wins every time on this show. Remember Jaslene?

ANTM fantasy league update

I've reconfigured my team: I feel that Fatima will continue to act like a bitch (either because she's mean or just plain dumb, it's hard to say), I saw in the previews that Whitney's going to get all up in somebody's business this week, and I just really like Claire and assume she'll be winning some challenges soon. I'm currently in 99th place, and I hope to stay in double digits with my new lineup. Looking forward to tonight's episode! Feel free to discuss.

Good reads for those of us who can (Read, that is. And if you can't, then why are you staring at my blog?)

I was trying to save up a longer list, but there were two fine posts I read in the last few days that I thought I should link to, and my computer (AKA work) hours are dwindling for today. I'm in the midst of formulating a post on some of my life's philosophies,* and you might see how the whole "actually doing my job sometimes" thing occasionally gets in the way of such projects. But anyway, both are related to gender issues that I find fascinating. FIRST: This is not unrelated to my post a while back about America's Next Top Model, and Tyra's bullshit "the fashion industry is so flawed in its beauty standards, but everybody should try harder to conform to them" "advice." Yeah, I just used scare quotes right after a sarcastic paraphrasing set of quotes. Deal with it, bitchez. Anyway, so I was reading Hugo Schywzer's "We love your look, but lose fifteen pounds" post about advising a student on values, conformity, and economic necessity in relation to the modeling industry. This student is barely making ends meet waitressing and doing some modeling on the side, but in order to transfer to a four-year school (to get her bachelor's in women's studies), and afford to get by, she's looking into trying to secure steadier modeling work. Apparently an agency is interested in signing her, but they think she needs to lose weight. There's pretty much a 764578698% chance that in real, non-fashion industry life, this young woman is totally thin and hot already. Anyway, as someone who is conscious of the patriarchal and consumerist values the modeling industry perpetuates, this girl is torn about what she should do. She desperately needs the money, and this is the kind of work where she can make a lot without too much of a time commitment and still continue to be a full-time student. She just has to cave to the pressure to lose fifteen pounds. Now, I will never be presented with such a dilemma, seeing as how I am already too short, fat, and old to be a model (though blonder and thinner than some people, of course!). But I can see why she'd do it. She wants to stick it to the patriarchy through her women's studies work, but she can't afford to do it unless she conforms to patriarchal pressures of unnatural thinness. I mostly just thought it was an interesting example of how principles sometimes come into conflict with the real world; where economic and other demands often take precedence over our ideals. You should check out Hugo's advice to her. She responds in the comments. SECOND: As a sometimes-honorary Wisconsinite, I really enjoyed Amanda Marcotte's delightful My god, Earl, they got football! They got football! about generally loathsome conservative talk radio host and apparent gender role police-person Laura Ingraham's comments on Brett Favre. Apparently he shed some tears at his retirement press conference. When she heard about it, she said, "All these years, and I didn’t know there was a woman quarterback in the NFL." Poor Laura Ingraham. She seems to be unaware that human males are not only capable of FEELING emotion, but sometimes it causes them to do this icky thing where WATER LEAKS OUT OF THEIR EYES. I know, I thought only chicks did it, too!** Because everybody knows that all things "feminine" (like feelings) are "weak" and therefore "bad." Amanda goes on to discuss one of my favorite topics: anxious masculinity. I am so fascinated by the concept of a gender identity that by its defining characteristics, must be constantly proven and re-proven, or it might just completely collapse (into WOMANHOOD, ew!).*** Despite being disappointed by formerly-supermanlymanmale Favre's girly display of emotion, Ingraham's also flattering her listeners into thinking that they must be so superior to dudes who CRY (on TV!):

But the listener is not given complete reason to despair, because the underlying message is a big ego boost. “My god, what a manly man he-man you are! You’re even manlier than Brett Favre, because he’s up there crying and you’re not. You know that beating Favre in the Manly Olympics is like getting the automatic gold.” Of course, you can’t hang your man gold on the shelf and call it a day. The Manly Olympics are perverse games, with every day starting brand new, and automatic revoking of your manhood credentials should you ever decide to sit one out. Or that’s what they hear. Everyone who plays in the Manly Olympics is to[o] scared to find out what happens if you decide to just quit and find better things to do with your time.

Unfortunately, my manhood credentials expired a long time ago. Maybe Brett Favre and I can go apply for new ones together. Because he's, like, hot, and we should totally hang out. (CALL ME, BRETT!) *Don't worry, I won't get all "earnest" on you; it's about using sarcasm to avoid emotional vulnerability. Duh, only an IDIOT would dread possible sincerity. **Were you aware that Hillary Clinton is ALSO a woman? Shocking. And shameful. Goddamn crybabies. ***This is, of course, the flipside of the "women must be pretty and skinny and not like men" patriarchy coin: "men must be strong and stoic and not like women." Mmm, maybe if I get bored at home I'll photoshop a "patriarchy coin."

Are they made of real Girl Scouts?

Sadly, I could not actually track down this clip online. Everyone should definitely go watch The Addams Family again, though.

I love Thin Mints. And Samoas (or whatever their new politically-correct name is). There were Girl Scouts at Walgreen's the other day (genius!), so I jumped at the chance to buy some, having previously lamented that I didn't think I'd have an opportunity to buy any cookies this year. And I'm certainly not the only one to have those thoughts. But I have to say I was a little disappointed to see Kate Harding's take over at Shapely Prose on all the cookie-mania*:

As I’m reading all this blog-talk about Girl Scout Cookies, I keep thinking of the non-American readers who must think either A) We have all lost our goddamned minds, or B) “Damn, those cookies must have solid gold in them!”

Dear non-American readers,

It’s A.

Love, Kate

Wrong and wrong. It's not SOLID gold, that would break your teeth, silly! It's liquid gold deliciousness that comes in the form of crack-laced chocolate. Obviously. I don't care if my desire for these cookies has more to do with a false sense of scarcity than their actual objective tastiness. Love 'em.


*Seriously though, do go read the actual post for a good take-down of the Girl Scouts' website's eating disorder-inducing advice to young girls.