Shiver Me Thinner

“Care Instructions: tumble-dry low and then never wear again.”

I’m finally cool. After years of ho-ho dieting, I’ve gotten back down to my college weight, and I’ve never felt cooler. Literally. As in, I’m freezing. This morning, my hands turned blue, and I had to put on a down jacket and sip a boiling cup of tea to stop from shivering. Why wasn’t I told about this? Are thin people part of a massive conspiracy to hide how freaking cold they are all the time so they can hoard the world’s supply of cashmere? Now I know why the contestants on The Biggest Loser gain all their weight back: they’re trying to warm up! In fact, the more I think about it, the more it all makes sense. Thin people often have cold personalities, while thick folks (as a former butterball, I find the f-word demeaning and insensitive) are known for being warm and jolly. Those who are skinny do hot yoga, while those who are stout do frozen yo-gurt. Turtlenecks are the fashion of choice for slender socialites, while plus-sizers seem to feel most comfortable in speedos (seriously, I have never seen a thin person wearing a speedo). I could go on, but I’m starting to lose feeling in my fingers. Does anyone have a space-heater I could borrow? I would also take an extra large meat-lover’s pizza.

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Fried and Prejudice

True story.

I’m fat. It’s not that I weigh a lot, or go shopping in a scooter, it’s that I am American, and all Americans are fat, right? Wrong! Our great nation of industrialized enterprisers, free-speech provocateurs, and fifteen-year-old rappers with Twitter accounts has been misrepresented by the domestic and foreign medias as a nation of fatties. I cry foul, sir! I also cry fowl, because I love ducks (seriously, who doesn’t love a good Mallard?). And to prove that our country has been improperly labeled as a confederation of obese land manatees, I am going to the one place Americans young and old, black and white, blonde and smart (I’m a blonde so I get immunity for that joke) can come together as one, have a good time, and enjoy the fruits of another successful harvest: The County Fair. Yep, here we are, just look at all these happy people! Wow! Look at that cornucopia of fresh, organic vegetables! See? We value health and nutrition so much that we give people ribbons for growing the best veg- WHAT IS THAT SMELL?! OMG FRIED DOUGH?? I HAVEN’T HAD FRIED DOUGH IN YEARS!! LET’S GET SOME!! OH, LOOK: THE POWDERED SUGAR SHAKER IS COVERED IN BEES!! I DON’T CARE I’M STILL GOING TO USE IT!! And that, my friends, is the true story of how a brave young man rose above the unfair perception that his society was comprised entirely of fat people by shaking a giant bottle of powdered sugar that was literally covered in bees over a piece of dough fried in lard that he consumed in approximately fifteen seconds. Goodnight, sweet prince.

Snacks and Sensibility

Destruction imminent.

I’m starving. OK, maybe that’s an exaggeration. I’m not literally starving. In fact, I’m probably the opposite of starving – whatever that is. I can’t remember the exact word my doctor used. I think it starts with “you are getting fatter.” Regardless, I haven’t eaten since the beginning of this sentence, and now I’m hungry. I’m so hungry that I’m actually angry. “Hangry,” I like to call it. It’s an emotion I discovered as an infant, and is best described by medical experts as “high pitched screaming followed by excessive crying.” Hanger is typically found in people who are either extremely impatient or < five years old. I currently reside in the first category, although from 1985 – 1990, I fit both classifications, and nearly drove my parents insane. No, really, I was, like, two hanger-attacks away from causing an enzyme to be released into their brains that would have turned them into schizophrenics. Don’t believe me? It’s on Wikipedia under “Child Psychology,” because I just put it there. Even if you yourself don’t suffer from hanger-attacks, I bet my bottom dollar you have a friend or relative who does. And if you don’t, no biggie, because I have no idea what a bottom dollar is. Seriously, though, I don’t recommend tangling with a hangry person. If you start to see the warning signs (beady eyes and an empty box of junk-food), get the heck out of there! Trust me, you do not want to stick around for the crying, which is so pathetic, it’s scary. Oh, look, we’re all out of my favorite cereal. [whispering] “Run.”