Let's talk about adenoids for a minute. Do you even know what adenoids are? Like most people, I know that adenoids are lymph-node type thingies somewhere between my throat and my ear. No idea what they do.
Well now I know that one doesn't actually NEED adenoids. I know this because they want to take my daughter's out. How exactly did this come about, and why am I freaking out about it?
Long story short: teachers say child hesitates in the middle of her sentences. They send her to Speech Therapist. Speech Therapist determines child has no speech-related issues; says child is "hypo-nasal" and recommends a visit to the Pediatrician. Pediatrician looks at her, sees fluid in her ears, and send us to the Radiologist. Radiologist takes head and neck X-rays, diagnoses her as having enlarged adenoids, and sends up back to the Pediatrician. Pediatrician sends us to Pediatric ENT. Pediatric ENT decides that she needs to have the adenoids removed, and she needs to have tubes put in her ears. And here we are. A 6 week journey to get us to surgery.
Let me divert for just a moment and discuss one of my B-I-G pet peeves: rude doctors. I understand that doctors go to school FOREVER. I understand that they are (for the most part) really smart and really qualified. I know that many of them are wonderful, life-saving individuals. I don't, however, believe that they are God, or any sort of deiety, nor do I believe they are excused from the rules of common courtesy that most of us practice. So - Dr. I'm-way-too-busy-and-important: hear this. We have been in your office for an hour and a half. We are a little freaked out. Our daughter is MORE than a little freaked out. When you come in the door, would it kill you to, oh, I don't know, LOOK ME IN THE EYE? SAY HELLO? INTRODUCE YOURSELF? MAKE EYE CONTACT AND SAY HELLO TO OUR CHILD? Apparently so. Instead, you come in, jump on the computer, look in my daughter's ears, shove the Xray up on the board, and tell me my kid needs surgery. Shouldn't "Bedside Manner 101" be required curriculum in Med School, especially for Pediatric doctors?
Then you stick us back in the waiting room with 12 other kids and their parents. It's hot in here. There aren't enough chairs. There is only 1 child-diversion toy...a bead maze thingy that occupies most 3 year olds for about 4 minutes. HELLO? Pediatric office...maybe you want to put some kid's books or games or something in there.
Two and a half hours later, we are sent home with a little blue folder telling us all about how we should get her ready, where the hopsital is, etc. I was (am) freaked out. Me and Bart are both a little stunned I think, and a little overwhelmed.
Dr. Important is supposed to be really good. And dozens of kids have their adenoids out every day. Cool. Outpatient procedure - I get it. But you know what? We're still talking about my baby here. My precious little child who means the entire world to me, regardless of how many times this surgery has been done or how routine this procedure is. It's MY BABY. And although I'm not a PhD, I AM college educated. I KNOW that anytime a person goes under anesthesia, there's a risk. You never know how someone might react. They could be allergic. Something could go wrong. It happens, and we all know it. MY BABY.
So I'm not getting a lot of comfort from all the people who tell me that their kids had it done, or it's no big deal. It feels like a big deal to me. And I have to try really hard not to let it show (hard for me and my total lack of a poker face), because I don't want to freak her out. I have to smile and tell her it's no big deal, and then eat a half a bag of chocolate chips when no one is looking. Or tear up when I'm typing this blog.
Adenoids. I will keep you posted. And after the surgery, I'm writing a nice, frank letter to Dr. Important. He'll probably throw it in the garbage, but at least I can say I've tried. Maybe it will make Dr. Importnat go buy some games for his waiting room, and to actually talk to (not at) some other freaked out kid he sees...
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Joy, Karma, and the stupid "American Way"
Here's what's rattling around in my scary little mind today...
JOY
My daughter lost her first tooth this past weekend. She's young for a 1st grader, having a birthday at the end of the school registration cycle. She's also the only kid in her whole class - possibly in the entire 1st Grade - who hadn't lost a tooth yet. It's a little ironic, because just in December her dentist (the hottie Dr. Sanjuan - there's a reason why oh, I don't know, EVERY SINGLE MOM IN THIS AREA takes their kids to see Dr. Sanjuan) declared that those two bottom teeth weren't going to come out anytime soon, and we'd need to have them extracted. Extracted is hottie dentist speak for "pull the teeth." Bart and I threw the bullshit flag* and decided to wait it out. Sure enough, about 2 weeks ago one of the little suckers got loose. And then last week the new tooth started to pop out right behind the loose one. By Saturday, she could spin the tooth all the way around, so I told Bart it was going to have to come out - I was afraid she'd swallow it or something. So I grabbed the video camera. Morbid, you're probably thinking. But I figured, hey - if it went all bad, and blood started spurting out of her mouth and she's screaming and yelling and all hell breaks loose, then I'd just delete the tape. What actually happened was just the opposite. Bart sat her down, and with a teeny tiny tug, the tooth came out. You should have seen her face when he showed her the tooth. Joy, amazement, and wonder all at once - she was lit up. Right now, I can close my eyes and still see her beautiful little face. But those special little memories are fleeting, and before I know it, it will fade and then be gone forever. But I have it on tape. Hopefully, I will always be able to look at that tape and remember what a special thing that was, and how excited she was. In 10 years, when she slams the door in my face after telling me that I'm old and dorky, and she hates me, and all her friends are allowed on dates and she wishes she never had me for a mom, I can retreat to my recliner, pop in that video, and smile. I can always remember a time when pure joy and amazement and magic could all be found in one tiny little tooth.
KARMA
In my never-ending, not-so-successful battle of the buldge, I went running today. 4 miles, plus a little, to be exact. I'm feeling a little bummed, because although I've lost 7 pounds since January, I really only lost what I gained over the holidays. So now I'm right back where I was before the whole Halloween - Thanksgiving - Christmas thing. So really no loss at all. Anyway....I was jogging on this trail called the Upper Tampa Bay Trail. I decided to run a nice stretch on the north part that I hadn't run in awhile. While on the trail, I encountered a baby turle, only about the size of my hand. It was cowering on the trail, likely confused by the noise and size of the multiple 10-ton concrete trucks rolling by on the roads. (I'll get to all that in a minute.) So, I stopped my stopwatch (taking a break to save wildlife is allowed, right?), stepped over, and reached down to pick the little thing up. Now, in the "old" days, "old" meaning when I worked at a zoo, I would have picked up pretty much anything non-venemous without a second thought. Actually, I DID pick up all kinds of crazy stuff, and I still have the scars to prove it. But as I reached down for the little turtle, the parent in me heard my nagging mom voice scream "SALMONELLA!", so I stopped. I grabbed a couple of oak leaves, and used them to pick up the little turtle. I walked about 6 yards over to a fence, and placed him on the inside of it. The fence was someone's yard, and beyond the yard was wide open space, some brush, some trees, and a lovely little pond. Perfect for a turtle. The homeowners wouldn't mind. right? So - turtle saved. Good Karma - bring it on, baby!
THE STUPID "AMERICAN WAY"
Now that you're all warm and fuzzy with the tooth and turtle stuff, hold on a minute. The stretch of the UTB Trail that I mentioned above used to be one of my favorite sections. It runs through a half mile or so of woods, then opens up into a lovely little rural area. There's a single lane paved road. On one side, there were older single-family homes. Most are on an acre or so, and many have little ponds, and keep goats and chickens. A couple had horses and cows too. Made me really miss my old Petting Zoo days.** The other side of the street had I think 2 homes and farms. Even though this area is not far from development, it was cool to see a little bit of Old Florida hidden away. These farms were maybe 3-4 acres, had green grass, ponds, 200 year old oak trees and spanish moss. Lots of cows. Some horses, goats, and chickens too. I remember one time this crazy little ram decided I was just a little too close to his territory, so he was charging the fence. Repeatedly. Made me laugh out loud.
Well, today I knew something was wrong pretty quickly. It was the stench of tar. As I broke throgh the wooded area, I could see immediately what was up. One of the homes was still there. But the other home, and all of the farmland was GONE. Bulldozed (no tress), leveled with dirt (no ponds), and fenced 3/4 of the way around with ugly vinyl fencing. A big sign read "Coming Soon! Ashton Woods!" There were 2 large concrete trucks dumping out concrete; 2 large tar and gravel machines pouring their stuff out, 1 huge roller thingie for smooshing it all down, and a few other noisy and offensive machines. Amidst the loud "beep!beep!beep!" sounds and the engine sounds, one could almost ignore the huge clouds of black smoke and exhaust pouring into the air. It's entirely possible that I have lung cancer from all that crap, and I was trying to EXERCISE!
Of course, every single home and lot on the street now had "For Sale" signs in front. I think a few of those homes had already been torn down.
So I know what you're going to say...people need a place to live, right? But come on! You would have to have been under a rock - literally - for the past year to not know the current real estate situation. NO ONE can sell their houses right now. And those that do take a huge loss out of desperation. Hillsborough County has a record number, an all-time high of vacant homes on the market. Foreclosures are rampant. SO CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHY EXACTLY THAT BEAUTIFUL FARMLAND HAD TO BE DESTROYED FOR A NEW FREAKIN' SUNDIVISION?!? They are going to build 60 or so cookie-cutter houses, of which they might sell half, and the other half will remain empty. There are news stories in the paper every weekend about how this new neighborhood was supposed to have a park, or that one was supposed to have a pool, but the developer pulled out, leaving unfinished, unsold, and abandoned homes. The Hillsborough County Commission is so crooked, and so thoughtless, and so stupid, they'd re-zone and approve development of the toilets their own mothers are sitting on if it puts dollars in their pockets. I am seriously considering starting a new Blog called "Boot the HCC - Who's With Me?" But them I realize that whoever gets elected into their spots would probably do the same things. So now this "progress" is the "American Way." Depressing.
* "Bullshit Flag" - this is a term that came into my vocabulary when I was with the Israel Pensacola Posse in Key West 2 years ago. We'd all be drinking, and someone would tell a story or make a point, and if you didn't believe it, you'd grab a dish towel (or really any kind of fabric), throw it on the ground penalty-style, and yell "Bullshit!" REALLY fun. You should try this at your next party.
** Yes - at one point in my life I worked in and was in charge of education programming for the Petting Zoo. There are only a few people out there that will understand and possibly agree with me when I tell you that, for some strange reason, I find the smell of hoofstock (um - that would be goats, pigs, horses, deer, etc) strangely comforting. It's very familiar to me, and reminds me of happy days.
Later gators - I'm going to see if I can find someway to spam the "Ashton Woods" web site 'till it shuts down - he he he
JOY
My daughter lost her first tooth this past weekend. She's young for a 1st grader, having a birthday at the end of the school registration cycle. She's also the only kid in her whole class - possibly in the entire 1st Grade - who hadn't lost a tooth yet. It's a little ironic, because just in December her dentist (the hottie Dr. Sanjuan - there's a reason why oh, I don't know, EVERY SINGLE MOM IN THIS AREA takes their kids to see Dr. Sanjuan) declared that those two bottom teeth weren't going to come out anytime soon, and we'd need to have them extracted. Extracted is hottie dentist speak for "pull the teeth." Bart and I threw the bullshit flag* and decided to wait it out. Sure enough, about 2 weeks ago one of the little suckers got loose. And then last week the new tooth started to pop out right behind the loose one. By Saturday, she could spin the tooth all the way around, so I told Bart it was going to have to come out - I was afraid she'd swallow it or something. So I grabbed the video camera. Morbid, you're probably thinking. But I figured, hey - if it went all bad, and blood started spurting out of her mouth and she's screaming and yelling and all hell breaks loose, then I'd just delete the tape. What actually happened was just the opposite. Bart sat her down, and with a teeny tiny tug, the tooth came out. You should have seen her face when he showed her the tooth. Joy, amazement, and wonder all at once - she was lit up. Right now, I can close my eyes and still see her beautiful little face. But those special little memories are fleeting, and before I know it, it will fade and then be gone forever. But I have it on tape. Hopefully, I will always be able to look at that tape and remember what a special thing that was, and how excited she was. In 10 years, when she slams the door in my face after telling me that I'm old and dorky, and she hates me, and all her friends are allowed on dates and she wishes she never had me for a mom, I can retreat to my recliner, pop in that video, and smile. I can always remember a time when pure joy and amazement and magic could all be found in one tiny little tooth.
KARMA
In my never-ending, not-so-successful battle of the buldge, I went running today. 4 miles, plus a little, to be exact. I'm feeling a little bummed, because although I've lost 7 pounds since January, I really only lost what I gained over the holidays. So now I'm right back where I was before the whole Halloween - Thanksgiving - Christmas thing. So really no loss at all. Anyway....I was jogging on this trail called the Upper Tampa Bay Trail. I decided to run a nice stretch on the north part that I hadn't run in awhile. While on the trail, I encountered a baby turle, only about the size of my hand. It was cowering on the trail, likely confused by the noise and size of the multiple 10-ton concrete trucks rolling by on the roads. (I'll get to all that in a minute.) So, I stopped my stopwatch (taking a break to save wildlife is allowed, right?), stepped over, and reached down to pick the little thing up. Now, in the "old" days, "old" meaning when I worked at a zoo, I would have picked up pretty much anything non-venemous without a second thought. Actually, I DID pick up all kinds of crazy stuff, and I still have the scars to prove it. But as I reached down for the little turtle, the parent in me heard my nagging mom voice scream "SALMONELLA!", so I stopped. I grabbed a couple of oak leaves, and used them to pick up the little turtle. I walked about 6 yards over to a fence, and placed him on the inside of it. The fence was someone's yard, and beyond the yard was wide open space, some brush, some trees, and a lovely little pond. Perfect for a turtle. The homeowners wouldn't mind. right? So - turtle saved. Good Karma - bring it on, baby!
THE STUPID "AMERICAN WAY"
Now that you're all warm and fuzzy with the tooth and turtle stuff, hold on a minute. The stretch of the UTB Trail that I mentioned above used to be one of my favorite sections. It runs through a half mile or so of woods, then opens up into a lovely little rural area. There's a single lane paved road. On one side, there were older single-family homes. Most are on an acre or so, and many have little ponds, and keep goats and chickens. A couple had horses and cows too. Made me really miss my old Petting Zoo days.** The other side of the street had I think 2 homes and farms. Even though this area is not far from development, it was cool to see a little bit of Old Florida hidden away. These farms were maybe 3-4 acres, had green grass, ponds, 200 year old oak trees and spanish moss. Lots of cows. Some horses, goats, and chickens too. I remember one time this crazy little ram decided I was just a little too close to his territory, so he was charging the fence. Repeatedly. Made me laugh out loud.
Well, today I knew something was wrong pretty quickly. It was the stench of tar. As I broke throgh the wooded area, I could see immediately what was up. One of the homes was still there. But the other home, and all of the farmland was GONE. Bulldozed (no tress), leveled with dirt (no ponds), and fenced 3/4 of the way around with ugly vinyl fencing. A big sign read "Coming Soon! Ashton Woods!" There were 2 large concrete trucks dumping out concrete; 2 large tar and gravel machines pouring their stuff out, 1 huge roller thingie for smooshing it all down, and a few other noisy and offensive machines. Amidst the loud "beep!beep!beep!" sounds and the engine sounds, one could almost ignore the huge clouds of black smoke and exhaust pouring into the air. It's entirely possible that I have lung cancer from all that crap, and I was trying to EXERCISE!
Of course, every single home and lot on the street now had "For Sale" signs in front. I think a few of those homes had already been torn down.
So I know what you're going to say...people need a place to live, right? But come on! You would have to have been under a rock - literally - for the past year to not know the current real estate situation. NO ONE can sell their houses right now. And those that do take a huge loss out of desperation. Hillsborough County has a record number, an all-time high of vacant homes on the market. Foreclosures are rampant. SO CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHY EXACTLY THAT BEAUTIFUL FARMLAND HAD TO BE DESTROYED FOR A NEW FREAKIN' SUNDIVISION?!? They are going to build 60 or so cookie-cutter houses, of which they might sell half, and the other half will remain empty. There are news stories in the paper every weekend about how this new neighborhood was supposed to have a park, or that one was supposed to have a pool, but the developer pulled out, leaving unfinished, unsold, and abandoned homes. The Hillsborough County Commission is so crooked, and so thoughtless, and so stupid, they'd re-zone and approve development of the toilets their own mothers are sitting on if it puts dollars in their pockets. I am seriously considering starting a new Blog called "Boot the HCC - Who's With Me?" But them I realize that whoever gets elected into their spots would probably do the same things. So now this "progress" is the "American Way." Depressing.
* "Bullshit Flag" - this is a term that came into my vocabulary when I was with the Israel Pensacola Posse in Key West 2 years ago. We'd all be drinking, and someone would tell a story or make a point, and if you didn't believe it, you'd grab a dish towel (or really any kind of fabric), throw it on the ground penalty-style, and yell "Bullshit!" REALLY fun. You should try this at your next party.
** Yes - at one point in my life I worked in and was in charge of education programming for the Petting Zoo. There are only a few people out there that will understand and possibly agree with me when I tell you that, for some strange reason, I find the smell of hoofstock (um - that would be goats, pigs, horses, deer, etc) strangely comforting. It's very familiar to me, and reminds me of happy days.
Later gators - I'm going to see if I can find someway to spam the "Ashton Woods" web site 'till it shuts down - he he he
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Just so you know...
I returned that book. The reviewer was right. It WAS just a thinly veilied book about being a vegan. Once you got past the intro and the first 2 chapters, it turned into a hate-fest for anyone who eats meat, sells meat, cooks with meat, raises meat, etc.
I'd hate to go way back to the dregs of my Anthropolgy degree and whup those girls upside their heads with - oh, I don't know - several thousand years of archaeological evidence that mankind has eaten meat for a really long time?
Anyway - I guess I'll just go back to my try to eat in moderation and exercise a lot plan.
Oh - and after I returned the book to Target, I went out and ate a big fat BBQ Bacon cheeseburger just for good measure. he he he
I'd hate to go way back to the dregs of my Anthropolgy degree and whup those girls upside their heads with - oh, I don't know - several thousand years of archaeological evidence that mankind has eaten meat for a really long time?
Anyway - I guess I'll just go back to my try to eat in moderation and exercise a lot plan.
Oh - and after I returned the book to Target, I went out and ate a big fat BBQ Bacon cheeseburger just for good measure. he he he
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Skinny Bitch
While wandering aimlessly around my Super Target (again) for several hours, I found this book. It's called "Skinny Bitch", by Rory Friedman and Kim Barnouin. I am going to share with you some exerpts from the first chapter. It may be the most honest literature I have seen in a ling time. Knowing who reads this Blog, I suspect you might agree:
Chapter 1: Give It Up
Okay. Use your head. You need to get healthy if you want to get skinny. Healthy = skinny. Unhealthy = fat. The first thing you need to do is give up your gross vices. Don't act surprised! You cannot keep eating the same shit and expect to get skinny. Or smoke. So don't even try some pathetic excuse like, "But if I quit smoking, I'll gain weight." No one wants to hear it. Cigarettes are for losers. They are so 1989 and totally uncool.
Of course it's easier to socailize after you've had a few drinks. But being a fat pig will hinder you, sober or drunk. And habitual drinking equals fat-pig syndrome. Beer is for Frat boys, not skinny bitches. It makes you fat, bloated, and farty. Why do you think when kids go away to college they gain the "freshman fifteen"? Beer, duh. Alcohol isn't any better.
Brace yourselves, girls: Soda is liquid Satan. It is the devil. It is garbage. There is nothing in soda that should be put into your body. The last time we checked, sugar, found in soda by the boatload, does not make you skinny! Now don't go patting yourself on the back if you drink diet soda. That stuff is even worse. Aspartame (an ingredient commonly found in diet sodas and other sugar-free foods) has been blamed for a slew of scary maladies. When methyl alcohol, a component of Aspartame, enters your body, it turns into formaldehyde. Laboratory scientists use Formaldehyde as a disinfectant or preservative. They don't fucking drink it. Perhaps you have a lumpy ass becuase you are preserving your fat cells with diet soda. Say goodbye to soda and hello to a sweet ass.
"Don't talk to me until I've had my morning coffee." Uhm...pathetic! Coffee is for pussies. Think about how widely accepted it has become that people need coffee to wake up. You should not need anything to wake up. If you can't wake up without it, it's because you are either addicted to caffiene, sleep deprived, or a generally unhealthy slob. It's not herolin, girls, and you'll learn to live without it. But don't go grabbing for the decaf. Coffee, wether regular or decaf, is highly acidic. Acidic foods cause your body to produce fat cells in order to keep the acid away from your organs. So coffee equals fat cells. Every single morning you are starting your day with a dose of poison. Add sugar or other artifical sweeteners, top it off with milk or cream, and you'll be fat forever. If you enjoy an occasional cup of coffee, fine. But if you need it, give it up.
Junk food will never go away. It becomes more alluring by the minute with laboratory-developed aromas, artificial flavors, chemical food colors, toxic preservatives, and heart-stopping hydrogenated oils. We know these are all impossible to resist, but no one ever got skinny on junk food. Use your head. Candy bars, potato chips, and ice cream taste like heaven, of course. But they will pitch a tent on your hips and camp out all year. Your junk food has so many preservatives that it has a shelf life of twenty-two years and will probably outlive your fat, sorry ass. Now before you decide you're so smart because you only buy fat-free snacks, get ahold of yourself. Whenever you see the words "fat-free" or "low-fat", think the words "chemical shit storm." Read the ingredients. If you'd drag your cankles to a health food store, you'd find aisle after aisle of "acceptable junk food". Guilt-free garbage that tastes so good, you'll do naked cartwheels around your living room. We are not saying you have to give up junk food to get skinny. You just have to trade your old junk food for new junk food.
This is not a diet. This is a way of life. A way to enjoy food. A way to feel healthy, clean, energized, and pure. It's time to reclaim your mind and body. It's time to strut your skinny ass down the street like you're in an episode of Charlie's Angels with some really cool song playing in the background. It's time to prance around in a thong like you rule the world. It's time to get skinny.
Now that's good shit. I feel like they are actually addressing me personally (except for the smoking, but most definitely about the coffee.) More to follow...
POST SCRIPT: Here is a review I found of the book. I haven't gotten to the anti-meat eating part of the book yet, but I suppose it's worth seeing things from the other side of the story. The reviewer actually sounds a lot like me too...
Do I want to be a Skinny B***h? Fat chance
It's the diet book Posh was spotted with in LA, but one serial slimmer is not convinced
By URSULA HIRSCHKORN
When that poster girl for the wafer-thin, Victoria Beckham, was seen reading a book called Skinny Bitch this week (no, it's not her autobiography), the unconventional U.S. diet book - by ex-Ford model Kim Barnouin and ex-model booker Rory Freedman - flew off the shelves.
It promises to give you the lowdown on getting skinny, and as one locked in a lifelong battle with my weight, I was intrigued to see if this book really held the key to turning one chubby charmer (me) into a so-called skinny bitch.
If the cover photo is anything to go by, two girls with their shiny, all-American good looks and skinny bods, I don't think either of them has ever fought much of a battle with the bulge.
Clearly they've looked down from their lofty perch and taken pity on us poor junk food-addicted fatties, to enlighten us with their Skinny Bitch wisdom.
But what seems to sail over their skinny little heads is that there's a world of difference between maintaining a superslim body, and carving one from within an obdurately fat frame.
These girls probably spent their 20s splitting their time between photo shoots and sipping skinny soy lattes in chi chi California cafes. The closest they've come to a size 16 is wafting past the plus-size rail of their local department store, so what gives them the right to lecture those of us less blessed in the waistline department?
The premise of the book is to tell it like it is, rather than sugar-coating the stark truth - that if only we ignorant grease munchers would educate ourselves about the food we put in our bodies, we would be so grossed out by it, it would be a pleasure to live off organic beans, pulses and tofu.
But what qualifies these two Californian air-heads to provide this education? Freedman proudly trumpets that she's a "self-taught know-it-all", while Barnouin has a degree in holistic nutrition, whatever the hell that is. Not exactly experts in the field of weight loss.
This is perhaps how they came to their laughably simplistic theory, that the secret of weight loss is just to eat healthy food. Oh if it were that easy, we'd all be size eight and they'd never have been published, killing two birds - and I don't mean them - with one stone.
The book spouts an extensive list of no-nos that you must avoid in order to become a "skinny bitch", including all the tired old suspects: booze; sugar; sweeteners; fat; caffeine; dairy; and refined carbs. In a nutshell, everything that makes our short, brutish lives that bit more bearable.
But what would they know about making life more bearable. Not for them the drudgery of a rain-soaked school run, only brightened by the prospect of eating the kids' leftovers.
They have all the time in the world to scour boutique organic stores for hard-to-find meat, dairy, egg, chemical and taste-free (OK that last one was me) healthy food, but most of us are lucky to find the time to dash to Sainsbury's.
These pampered LA princesses work hard to make us feel guilty for trying to make our lives a bit easier, making a trip to the supermarket sound more hazardous than a tour of duty in Iraq. They sanctimoniously lecture us on the cancercausing chemicals in wine, and the nasties lurking in diet sodas.
But where they really have an axe to grind is with meat eaters. This is when the real agenda of the book is revealed and it moves effortlessly from being potty-mouthed advice on how to adopt a fat-busting healthy diet, into a diatribe against eating meat.
It appears that scientists and archaeologists have been deluding themselves with the idea that all those charred animal bones that have been dug up around human dwellings since we lived in caves actually mean we are meant to eat meat.
Oh no, Ms MA in holistic nutrition knows better. According to her cod science, our blunt teeth and alkaline saliva point to our vegetarian origins. The skinny bitches then launch into a scathing attack on meat eaters, calling anyone who thinks they can lose weight while eating meat a "moron", and dismissing the protein-laden Atkins Diet as "the dead, rotting, decomposing flesh diet".
Please girls, don't insult my intelligence. Just because you choose a certain lifestyle doesn't mean you've discovered the secret of simple weight loss. There are so many reasons we get fat - depression, pregnancy, genetics - not just because we eat meat. I bet I could still pack on the pounds on a vegan diet if I really put my mind to it.
This isn't so much a diet book as a propaganda pamphlet for veganism, which is promoted with all the zeal of a convert. Since the super-slim authors think they know all about the allure of junk food, they are kind enough to point us to a whole host of healthy alternatives. How could I stop my mouth watering at right-on recipe suggestions, such as taking a slice of tofu, soy butter, salt, pepper and ketchup, and hey presto you have yourself a perfect "fried egg" to stick between two slices of sprouted grain bread.
Who do they think they are kidding? I will take my life in my hands and stick to the real thing, laced as it may be with "antibiotics, pesticides, and steroids". Skinny Bitch is just the same-old diet rules repackaged in an obnoxious and bullying tone. It's not exactly rocket science to work out that if you want to lose weight, you have to junk the junk food.
But they're the morons if they believe that by giving up meat you will morph into a skinny bitch like them.
If the choice is between swopping a balanced diet of food stuffs I can get at my local supermarket, for a faddish, fanatical diet cult favoured by the queen skinny bitch, Victoria Beckham, I'd rather be a fat pig.
Chapter 1: Give It Up
Okay. Use your head. You need to get healthy if you want to get skinny. Healthy = skinny. Unhealthy = fat. The first thing you need to do is give up your gross vices. Don't act surprised! You cannot keep eating the same shit and expect to get skinny. Or smoke. So don't even try some pathetic excuse like, "But if I quit smoking, I'll gain weight." No one wants to hear it. Cigarettes are for losers. They are so 1989 and totally uncool.
Of course it's easier to socailize after you've had a few drinks. But being a fat pig will hinder you, sober or drunk. And habitual drinking equals fat-pig syndrome. Beer is for Frat boys, not skinny bitches. It makes you fat, bloated, and farty. Why do you think when kids go away to college they gain the "freshman fifteen"? Beer, duh. Alcohol isn't any better.
Brace yourselves, girls: Soda is liquid Satan. It is the devil. It is garbage. There is nothing in soda that should be put into your body. The last time we checked, sugar, found in soda by the boatload, does not make you skinny! Now don't go patting yourself on the back if you drink diet soda. That stuff is even worse. Aspartame (an ingredient commonly found in diet sodas and other sugar-free foods) has been blamed for a slew of scary maladies. When methyl alcohol, a component of Aspartame, enters your body, it turns into formaldehyde. Laboratory scientists use Formaldehyde as a disinfectant or preservative. They don't fucking drink it. Perhaps you have a lumpy ass becuase you are preserving your fat cells with diet soda. Say goodbye to soda and hello to a sweet ass.
"Don't talk to me until I've had my morning coffee." Uhm...pathetic! Coffee is for pussies. Think about how widely accepted it has become that people need coffee to wake up. You should not need anything to wake up. If you can't wake up without it, it's because you are either addicted to caffiene, sleep deprived, or a generally unhealthy slob. It's not herolin, girls, and you'll learn to live without it. But don't go grabbing for the decaf. Coffee, wether regular or decaf, is highly acidic. Acidic foods cause your body to produce fat cells in order to keep the acid away from your organs. So coffee equals fat cells. Every single morning you are starting your day with a dose of poison. Add sugar or other artifical sweeteners, top it off with milk or cream, and you'll be fat forever. If you enjoy an occasional cup of coffee, fine. But if you need it, give it up.
Junk food will never go away. It becomes more alluring by the minute with laboratory-developed aromas, artificial flavors, chemical food colors, toxic preservatives, and heart-stopping hydrogenated oils. We know these are all impossible to resist, but no one ever got skinny on junk food. Use your head. Candy bars, potato chips, and ice cream taste like heaven, of course. But they will pitch a tent on your hips and camp out all year. Your junk food has so many preservatives that it has a shelf life of twenty-two years and will probably outlive your fat, sorry ass. Now before you decide you're so smart because you only buy fat-free snacks, get ahold of yourself. Whenever you see the words "fat-free" or "low-fat", think the words "chemical shit storm." Read the ingredients. If you'd drag your cankles to a health food store, you'd find aisle after aisle of "acceptable junk food". Guilt-free garbage that tastes so good, you'll do naked cartwheels around your living room. We are not saying you have to give up junk food to get skinny. You just have to trade your old junk food for new junk food.
This is not a diet. This is a way of life. A way to enjoy food. A way to feel healthy, clean, energized, and pure. It's time to reclaim your mind and body. It's time to strut your skinny ass down the street like you're in an episode of Charlie's Angels with some really cool song playing in the background. It's time to prance around in a thong like you rule the world. It's time to get skinny.
Now that's good shit. I feel like they are actually addressing me personally (except for the smoking, but most definitely about the coffee.) More to follow...
POST SCRIPT: Here is a review I found of the book. I haven't gotten to the anti-meat eating part of the book yet, but I suppose it's worth seeing things from the other side of the story. The reviewer actually sounds a lot like me too...
Do I want to be a Skinny B***h? Fat chance
It's the diet book Posh was spotted with in LA, but one serial slimmer is not convinced
By URSULA HIRSCHKORN
When that poster girl for the wafer-thin, Victoria Beckham, was seen reading a book called Skinny Bitch this week (no, it's not her autobiography), the unconventional U.S. diet book - by ex-Ford model Kim Barnouin and ex-model booker Rory Freedman - flew off the shelves.
It promises to give you the lowdown on getting skinny, and as one locked in a lifelong battle with my weight, I was intrigued to see if this book really held the key to turning one chubby charmer (me) into a so-called skinny bitch.
If the cover photo is anything to go by, two girls with their shiny, all-American good looks and skinny bods, I don't think either of them has ever fought much of a battle with the bulge.
Clearly they've looked down from their lofty perch and taken pity on us poor junk food-addicted fatties, to enlighten us with their Skinny Bitch wisdom.
But what seems to sail over their skinny little heads is that there's a world of difference between maintaining a superslim body, and carving one from within an obdurately fat frame.
These girls probably spent their 20s splitting their time between photo shoots and sipping skinny soy lattes in chi chi California cafes. The closest they've come to a size 16 is wafting past the plus-size rail of their local department store, so what gives them the right to lecture those of us less blessed in the waistline department?
The premise of the book is to tell it like it is, rather than sugar-coating the stark truth - that if only we ignorant grease munchers would educate ourselves about the food we put in our bodies, we would be so grossed out by it, it would be a pleasure to live off organic beans, pulses and tofu.
But what qualifies these two Californian air-heads to provide this education? Freedman proudly trumpets that she's a "self-taught know-it-all", while Barnouin has a degree in holistic nutrition, whatever the hell that is. Not exactly experts in the field of weight loss.
This is perhaps how they came to their laughably simplistic theory, that the secret of weight loss is just to eat healthy food. Oh if it were that easy, we'd all be size eight and they'd never have been published, killing two birds - and I don't mean them - with one stone.
The book spouts an extensive list of no-nos that you must avoid in order to become a "skinny bitch", including all the tired old suspects: booze; sugar; sweeteners; fat; caffeine; dairy; and refined carbs. In a nutshell, everything that makes our short, brutish lives that bit more bearable.
But what would they know about making life more bearable. Not for them the drudgery of a rain-soaked school run, only brightened by the prospect of eating the kids' leftovers.
They have all the time in the world to scour boutique organic stores for hard-to-find meat, dairy, egg, chemical and taste-free (OK that last one was me) healthy food, but most of us are lucky to find the time to dash to Sainsbury's.
These pampered LA princesses work hard to make us feel guilty for trying to make our lives a bit easier, making a trip to the supermarket sound more hazardous than a tour of duty in Iraq. They sanctimoniously lecture us on the cancercausing chemicals in wine, and the nasties lurking in diet sodas.
But where they really have an axe to grind is with meat eaters. This is when the real agenda of the book is revealed and it moves effortlessly from being potty-mouthed advice on how to adopt a fat-busting healthy diet, into a diatribe against eating meat.
It appears that scientists and archaeologists have been deluding themselves with the idea that all those charred animal bones that have been dug up around human dwellings since we lived in caves actually mean we are meant to eat meat.
Oh no, Ms MA in holistic nutrition knows better. According to her cod science, our blunt teeth and alkaline saliva point to our vegetarian origins. The skinny bitches then launch into a scathing attack on meat eaters, calling anyone who thinks they can lose weight while eating meat a "moron", and dismissing the protein-laden Atkins Diet as "the dead, rotting, decomposing flesh diet".
Please girls, don't insult my intelligence. Just because you choose a certain lifestyle doesn't mean you've discovered the secret of simple weight loss. There are so many reasons we get fat - depression, pregnancy, genetics - not just because we eat meat. I bet I could still pack on the pounds on a vegan diet if I really put my mind to it.
This isn't so much a diet book as a propaganda pamphlet for veganism, which is promoted with all the zeal of a convert. Since the super-slim authors think they know all about the allure of junk food, they are kind enough to point us to a whole host of healthy alternatives. How could I stop my mouth watering at right-on recipe suggestions, such as taking a slice of tofu, soy butter, salt, pepper and ketchup, and hey presto you have yourself a perfect "fried egg" to stick between two slices of sprouted grain bread.
Who do they think they are kidding? I will take my life in my hands and stick to the real thing, laced as it may be with "antibiotics, pesticides, and steroids". Skinny Bitch is just the same-old diet rules repackaged in an obnoxious and bullying tone. It's not exactly rocket science to work out that if you want to lose weight, you have to junk the junk food.
But they're the morons if they believe that by giving up meat you will morph into a skinny bitch like them.
If the choice is between swopping a balanced diet of food stuffs I can get at my local supermarket, for a faddish, fanatical diet cult favoured by the queen skinny bitch, Victoria Beckham, I'd rather be a fat pig.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Wow have things changed...
My pal Amy went to see "Juno" this past weekend. She liked the movie, but said the following:
"I could probably have done without the scene where Jason Bateman is talking to Juno about his prom, telling her, "this is how we did it in '88" - and then two lines later she calls him "old." Coz that was awesome.
Let's never use the words "'88" and "old" so close together ever again, 'K?"
I have a not-really-related story to add to that. This weekend we were watching "Sixteen Candles." (TV Land was having this great Awesome 80's weekend - Sixteen Candles, Breakfast Club, etc.) Anyway, there's this part where - and I KNOW you all remember this - the chinese exchange student (Dong) is missing, and grandpa calls up the police to report Dong missing. He sais something along the lines of "Yes - he was wearing a striped shirt, sewater vest, and red shoes. (pause) No he's not retarded!" Well, in today's messed up, over-the-top PC world, TV Land decided to ax the last part of the line - the "No he's not retarded" part.
I am as sensitive to the plight of disabled people as the next person. After working for United way, I know plenty about what they have to go through, and I've witnessed some of the chellenges they face. But COME ON PEOPLE! IT'S A LINE IN A MOVIE! A NOW-CONSIERED-TO-BE-A-CLASSIC MOVIE AT THAT!!! AND IT'S FUNNY!
Where does it stop? "Frankly my dear, I don't give a darn"? "You Bastards! You really hurt Kenny"? Next thing you know, Nathan Lane and Robin Williams won't be gay in "The Birdcage." Luke Skywalker's hand won't be cut off in the movie - he'll only lose his cuff links. "Lord of the Rings" will have to have a disclaimer about how it's OK - the Orcs are really unionized and are getting treated fairly and without discrimination. Doc Holiday won't die of TB - he'll just have a really bad cold in "Tombstone." "Major League" won't have Wesley Snipes as the fast runner, 'cause that would be stereotyping. They'll have to re-cast and put Charlie Sheen in there again. I guess Wesley is just out, because he couldn't be the prison guy either - sterotyping. (Which lord knows you can't cut Wesley Snipes out - he just got tagged in Ocala Florida for several million dollars in tax evasion, for Pete's sake...)
Maybe these are really crappy examples - sorry. I hosted 20 pre-schoolers at a bowling party this weekend, so I'm a little out of it. But my point is, the PC crap has gone waaaaaaayyyy overboard. Who's going to be offended? Who's feelings might be hurt? Did you know that here in Hillsborough County, the non-Christians lobbied the School Board to eliminate any days off for Easter? I'm not particularly religious, but practically my whole family is, and they are NOT HAPPY that we can't see them for easter this year. But hey - we still have Dr. Martin Luther King Junior day off. Oh - and FAIR DAY. Yes - that's right - kids in Hillsborough County get a day off school for the FAIR. And Presidents' Day too. Because it is downright necessary to honor a bunch of dead guys, but heaven forbid we get a day off to honor what the majority of our country considers to be "THE" dead guy.
OK - I'm gettin off the soapbox now. They really need to leave my classics alone, though. I don't actually get to go see new movies anymore...
"I could probably have done without the scene where Jason Bateman is talking to Juno about his prom, telling her, "this is how we did it in '88" - and then two lines later she calls him "old." Coz that was awesome.
Let's never use the words "'88" and "old" so close together ever again, 'K?"
I have a not-really-related story to add to that. This weekend we were watching "Sixteen Candles." (TV Land was having this great Awesome 80's weekend - Sixteen Candles, Breakfast Club, etc.) Anyway, there's this part where - and I KNOW you all remember this - the chinese exchange student (Dong) is missing, and grandpa calls up the police to report Dong missing. He sais something along the lines of "Yes - he was wearing a striped shirt, sewater vest, and red shoes. (pause) No he's not retarded!" Well, in today's messed up, over-the-top PC world, TV Land decided to ax the last part of the line - the "No he's not retarded" part.
I am as sensitive to the plight of disabled people as the next person. After working for United way, I know plenty about what they have to go through, and I've witnessed some of the chellenges they face. But COME ON PEOPLE! IT'S A LINE IN A MOVIE! A NOW-CONSIERED-TO-BE-A-CLASSIC MOVIE AT THAT!!! AND IT'S FUNNY!
Where does it stop? "Frankly my dear, I don't give a darn"? "You Bastards! You really hurt Kenny"? Next thing you know, Nathan Lane and Robin Williams won't be gay in "The Birdcage." Luke Skywalker's hand won't be cut off in the movie - he'll only lose his cuff links. "Lord of the Rings" will have to have a disclaimer about how it's OK - the Orcs are really unionized and are getting treated fairly and without discrimination. Doc Holiday won't die of TB - he'll just have a really bad cold in "Tombstone." "Major League" won't have Wesley Snipes as the fast runner, 'cause that would be stereotyping. They'll have to re-cast and put Charlie Sheen in there again. I guess Wesley is just out, because he couldn't be the prison guy either - sterotyping. (Which lord knows you can't cut Wesley Snipes out - he just got tagged in Ocala Florida for several million dollars in tax evasion, for Pete's sake...)
Maybe these are really crappy examples - sorry. I hosted 20 pre-schoolers at a bowling party this weekend, so I'm a little out of it. But my point is, the PC crap has gone waaaaaaayyyy overboard. Who's going to be offended? Who's feelings might be hurt? Did you know that here in Hillsborough County, the non-Christians lobbied the School Board to eliminate any days off for Easter? I'm not particularly religious, but practically my whole family is, and they are NOT HAPPY that we can't see them for easter this year. But hey - we still have Dr. Martin Luther King Junior day off. Oh - and FAIR DAY. Yes - that's right - kids in Hillsborough County get a day off school for the FAIR. And Presidents' Day too. Because it is downright necessary to honor a bunch of dead guys, but heaven forbid we get a day off to honor what the majority of our country considers to be "THE" dead guy.
OK - I'm gettin off the soapbox now. They really need to leave my classics alone, though. I don't actually get to go see new movies anymore...
Friday, February 8, 2008
New List
If you go back and read my first post of the year (titled "New Year's Resolutions"), you'll be up to speed on my gigantic resolution list. One of those is "Read More Books." And by this I mean books for GROWN UPS , not children's books. Anywho, it's Feb. 8th, and so far I've managed to squeeze in time for 2 1/2. For fun, I've added a list of my books over there to the right. These are all books I would recommend, unless otherwise noted.
I'll have to find my resolutions list (note to self: add "get organized" to resolution list) and update you on my other progress (or lack thereof).
Things I'm fascinated by today:
* Romney quit the race - weird. Anybody wanna guess at what mechanisms are at work behind the scenes on this one?
* Britney is out of the Psych Ward. Who in the hell thought THAT would be a good idea?
* It is physically possible to diet all week, exercise rigorously, and still gain weight. Life is SO not fair. I'm going out for a Grouper Sandwich.
* If you haven't tried the new Special K Protein Water, I highly recommend it. It seems to help me battle through the 4-7 pm snack attacks.
* Plantar Fasciitis is a painful thing to have. And it doesn't go away quickly.
* I applied today to have Genevieve Gorder come decorate a room in my house.
* I think the Marine Corps should parachute into Berkely, California and put an old-fashioned ass-whuppin on the City Government there. (you'll have to do a news search to get caught up on that one...)
* Zeke is my favorite High School Musical character. (Creme Brulee)
* It is possible - and necessary - in Tampa to have to run your air conditioner and your pool heater at the same time.
Later Gators!
I'll have to find my resolutions list (note to self: add "get organized" to resolution list) and update you on my other progress (or lack thereof).
Things I'm fascinated by today:
* Romney quit the race - weird. Anybody wanna guess at what mechanisms are at work behind the scenes on this one?
* Britney is out of the Psych Ward. Who in the hell thought THAT would be a good idea?
* It is physically possible to diet all week, exercise rigorously, and still gain weight. Life is SO not fair. I'm going out for a Grouper Sandwich.
* If you haven't tried the new Special K Protein Water, I highly recommend it. It seems to help me battle through the 4-7 pm snack attacks.
* Plantar Fasciitis is a painful thing to have. And it doesn't go away quickly.
* I applied today to have Genevieve Gorder come decorate a room in my house.
* I think the Marine Corps should parachute into Berkely, California and put an old-fashioned ass-whuppin on the City Government there. (you'll have to do a news search to get caught up on that one...)
* Zeke is my favorite High School Musical character. (Creme Brulee)
* It is possible - and necessary - in Tampa to have to run your air conditioner and your pool heater at the same time.
Later Gators!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Holy s&*t! I Did It!
I am still slightly in shock that - somehow - I managed to complete a progressive Iron Man Triatlon. What does this mean?
Well, basically it means you have 1 month - 31 days, to be exact - to run 26.2 miles, bike 112 miles, and swim 2.4 miles. The month was January, and hell - I DID IT! Just barely, mind you, but still!
If you want to get nitpicky about it, I actually did a little MORE than required. I swam exactly 2.4 miles. But! I ran 26.6 miles (.4 miles over) AND I biked 112.5 miles (.5 over).
I tried to do this last year, when the event had the option of doing the half-distance, and you had 2 months to do it. I got halfway there, then got strep throat and was sidelined.
This year, though, I did it. I literally took the whole month to do it (I completed the last 12 miles of the bike and 1/2 miles of the run ON Jan. 31st). I just want to say that I have NO FREAKIN' IDEA how people do that in a day. Several people in this event - the prize winners - actually were competing in how many times they could complete the distances.
And I lost 10 punds too. Not too shabby. Anybody wanna do it with me next year? ;)
Well, basically it means you have 1 month - 31 days, to be exact - to run 26.2 miles, bike 112 miles, and swim 2.4 miles. The month was January, and hell - I DID IT! Just barely, mind you, but still!
If you want to get nitpicky about it, I actually did a little MORE than required. I swam exactly 2.4 miles. But! I ran 26.6 miles (.4 miles over) AND I biked 112.5 miles (.5 over).
I tried to do this last year, when the event had the option of doing the half-distance, and you had 2 months to do it. I got halfway there, then got strep throat and was sidelined.
This year, though, I did it. I literally took the whole month to do it (I completed the last 12 miles of the bike and 1/2 miles of the run ON Jan. 31st). I just want to say that I have NO FREAKIN' IDEA how people do that in a day. Several people in this event - the prize winners - actually were competing in how many times they could complete the distances.
And I lost 10 punds too. Not too shabby. Anybody wanna do it with me next year? ;)
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