a diet by any other name is still a diet.

how dumb do i look?

i rec'd an email this morning from the South Beach Diet website with the subject line:

STOP DIETING, START LIVING.

um... think they saw those Weight Watchers's ads and panicked?

i clicked over to their website to investigate:

The South Beach Diet is more than a diet — it's a way of life. "Food is meant to be enjoyed, even savored. That's what makes the South Beach Diet a lifestyle and what differentiates us from other healthy eating plans," says Dr. Arthur Agatston, preventive cardiologist and author of The South Beach Diet and The South Beach Heart Health Revolution.

ah... so it's an EATING PLAN, not a diet. i don't know if any of you have ever done the South Beach Diet, but i have, and it certainly felt like dieting to me. it's very restricted, especially the first two weeks. NO CARROTS, NO BEETS, NO CORN, NO POTATOES, NO BREAD, NO PEAS (among many others). it's not an awful diet - it's not all grapefruits or all cabbage soup all of the time - but again, i don't feel like it teaches you about listening to your body and it's needs. it directs and restricts and forbids, it does not instruct. you can read more about it here.

Because of Dr. Agatston's healthy lifestyle philosophy, beginning this month South Beach Diet foods from Kraft will be known as South Beach Living foods. The name change is a true reflection of Dr. Agatston's desire to encourage people to adopt lifelong healthy eating habits...

"My goal has always been to change the way America eats. Now I have an even larger goal: to change the way America lives." That's why he (Dr. Agatston) brings you South Beach Living foods from Kraft.

here, the ingredients in one of Kraft's South Beach Living foods, a Turkey and Bacon Club Refrigerated Wrap Kit (who needs a kit to make a wrap?).

Ingredients: OVEN ROASTED TURKEY BREAST - CURED - TURKEY BREAST, WATER, CONTAINS LESS THAN 2% OF MODIFIED CORN STARCH, SALT, POTASSIUM LACTATE, SUGAR, SODIUM PHOSPHATES, SODIUM DIACETATE, SODIUM ERYTHORBATE (MADE FROM SUGAR), SODIUM NITRITE, NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL FLAVOR. SUGAR FREE STRAWBERRY GELATIN - ARTIFICIALLY FLAVORED - WATER, GELATIN, ADIPIC ACID (FOR TARTNESS), SODIUM CITRATE (CONTROLS ACIDITY), CITRIC ACID (FOR TARTNESS), ASPARTAME** AND ACESULFAME POTASSIUM (SWEETENERS), SALT, RED 40, ARTIFICIAL FLAVOR. **PHENYLKETONURICS: CONTAINS PHENYLALANINE. WHEAT TORTILLAS - WATER, MODIFIED WHEAT STARCH, WHOLE WHEAT FLOUR, VITAL WHEAT GLUTEN, PALM OIL, CELLULOSE POWDER, WHEAT PROTEIN ISOLATE, CONTAINS LESS THAN 2% OF SALT, LEAVENING (SODIUM BICARBONATE, SODIUM ACID PYROPHOSPHATE), CELLULOSE GUM, DISTILLED MONOGLYCERIDES, WHEAT STARCH, ALPHA AMYLASE, PRESERVATIVES (CALCIUM PROPIONATE, SORBIC ACID, FUMARIC ACID, SODIUM METABISULFITE), CANOLA OIL, TRIGLYCERIDES, ARTIFICIAL FLAVOR, CARAMEL COLOR, SUCRALOSE. CONTAINS WHEAT, SULFITES. CHEESE BLEND - 2% MILK NATURAL REDUCED FAT MOZZARELLA CHEESE (PASTEURIZED PART-SKIM MILK, CHEESE CULTURE, SALT, ENZYMES, VITAMIN A PALMITATE), NATURAL NONFAT CHEDDAR CHEESE...

no carrots, no beets, no corn, no potatoes, no bread, no peas... but distilled monoglycerides are just fine.

christmas constipation.

i had a wonderful christmas yesterday with The Cute and his mutt sidekick, Chicken. we opened gifts, and then spent the day lollygagging about (i lollygagged, he cooked lasagna) we had a sausage and cheese casserole for breakfast, and a cheesy lasagna with a side of sausage for dinner. they were both absolutely delicious, but next year, Santa, please leave some Ex-Lax in my stocking.
_____

a card from jibjab:

http://www.jibjab.com/sendables/view/mrqJVA4pyNGICGEuESTEUTvP

using our heads from this ridiculous pic from last christmas: http://sizeate.blogspot.com/2006/12/ufc-2006.html

hope your holidays have been happy and that you've been enjoying the attendant treats guilt-free!

"go on a diet diet."

i was on the subway this afternoon, looked up, and saw a series of signs running across the top of the car.

LIVE OR DIET

DIETS ARE MEAN

PEOPLE DON'T FAIL, DIETS DO

STOP DIETING, START LIVING

MAKE A NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION TO NOT GO ON A DIET

isn't that awesome! how inspiring! i wanna get on this NO DIETING train!

i was, of course, intrigued. i wholeheartedly do not believe that diets work. yes, you will lose weight, but you will gain it back, or you will spend the rest of your life obsessing (mildly to severely) about keeping the weight off i.e. you will develop an eating disorder. it is my opinion that dieting IS a culturally-acceptable, culturally-endorsed, culturally-encouraged eating disorder.

anyway, upon closer inspection, i realized that these uplifting little bon mots were ads for Weight Watchers.

Weight Watchers, these signs tell me, is not a diet.

bullshit.

bullshit.

and oh yeah, bullshit.

Weight Watchers IS a diet. yes, you don't count calories, but you count POINTS. a number is a number. i will admit that WW is not the worst diet in the world as far as diets go. they've made adjustments in recent years that emphasize the importance of fruits and vegetables and exercise, but it is still a diet. it teaches you nothing about learning to eat intuitively, about listening to your body and its needs. you can spend the rest of your life counting calories or counting points or counting pounds, but it is still counting, and it is still crazy-making.

and... AND!!!

they weigh you every week. that's seriously fucked up. this allows no room for individual differences in how weight is distributed, muscle mass, water retention and extra heavy pair of dungarees. even more disturbing, it's an almost guarantee that you will, at one point or another, go to your "weigh-in" and leave in a shittier mood that you walked in. why? because you gained A POUND.

i went on Weight Watchers a few years ago "just to see." (more bullshit. i wanted to go on a diet. i wanted to be in control. i wanted, on some level, to develop another, more culturally-acceptable eating disorder). mostly, what i remember is that our meeting leader looked like Vincent Price, and that i was hungry ALL OF THE TIME. i had close to zero energy. but hey! i lost 2 pounds my first week.

EUPHORIA!

when i came back the next week, i knew i'd gained the 2 pounds back before i even got on the scale. when i hopped on the scale, and the numbers revealed that i had indeed gained those two glorious, life-changing pounds back, my meeting leader WOULD NOT EVEN LOOK ME IN THE EYE. he was ashamed of me? for me? i felt like i was being shamed, tsk-ed, scolded for gaining TWO POUNDS.

"well, let's just get back on track for next week."

fuck you, i thought. i will not be back next week. or ever.

but it sure beats child abuse.

talking about our philosophies on disciplining children with my aunt, uncle and grandmother when i was in baltimore last weekend. my grandmother turns to me and says:

"well, margaux wasn't disciplined; she was just fed."

i don't know whether to cry or to thank her for this accidentally illuminating insight into the genesis of my struggles with emotional eating.

nice legs.

one of my favorite blogs is dooce. one of my favorite posts is this one.

i'm a big advocate of therapy and medication (if it's needed and supervised). i took Zoloft for a year, about 6 years ago. my general practitioner prescribed it for me after i had a breakdown in his examination room. i was there for a routine physical. i had asked his nurse TWICE not to tell me how much i weighed, i even stood on the scale BACKWARDS, and she still told me, loud and clear.

"DID YOU NOT HEAR ME?" i yelped between sobs.

i felt as if i did not exist. as if my needs and desires did not matter. and then, of course, there was THE NUMBER.

i don't even remember the number, (it had to have been pretty low, i was knee deep in anorexia at this time) but i remember i could not stop crying. try as i might, i was sniffling and weeping and sniffling and weeping. i was able to pull it together just for a few moments i can do this, i can do this, when Doctor L walked in. just as my doctor extended his hand to shake mine, my face crumpled, tears fell. i could not do this, after all.

i was already in therapy at this point, but had never considered medication. i just couldn't. medication is for weaklings. crazy people. not ME. i was a pull yourself up by your own bootstraps type of gal. it's in my genetics, steel threaded into my DNA. never feel sorry for yourself, never be weak, never be... human.

doctor L convinced me otherwise.

"margaux. say you didn't have any legs. you're on a street corner and you desperately needed to get to the other side. i walk up to you with a pair of legs and tell you you can have them, you just have to say 'yes.' wouldn't you take them?"

i took it for a year, and it did help. i ate more. i got my period after a year of amenorrhea. i became more social. it's taken me awhile to attribute my improvement to the Zoloft. at the time, i just liked to think i was getting better all by myself! (those damn bootstraps again) i remember feeling less stressed, less anxious, less angry. or maybe not less, so much as i just found i could deal with the stress, the anxiety, the anger more effectively, more sanely. fasting on steamed cabbage with dijon mustard for three days would not solve my problems after all!

they do say that you cannot rely on drugs to fix your problems, and that you shouldn't take drugs alone, but in conjunction with therapy. i completely agree. one way or another, you're going to have to hash out your issues someday in therapy, in a support group, somewhere other than in your sweet little head. meds just keep you from completely losing your shit when your realize how many issues you really have.

thought you were over that childhood trauma? yeah... NO. start over.

i'm no longer on any anti-anxiety medication. i just stopped taking it one day. (not advisable, unless you like numbness in your extremities. i should have gone off of it under the care of my doctor. he would have tapered the dosage to avoid withdrawal effects). i'm also not in therapy. but all of that is for RIGHT NOW. i'm sure there will come a time when i'll feel the need to return to therapy. i'm also open to the possiblity of taking medication again if need be.

i like crossing streets, and there are so many ways of doing so.

still sassy after all these years.

my aunt, my grandmother and i were on our way to the bus station on monday afternoon. i was leaving baltimore after a short weekend trip to visit the family. (i had a great time, by the way. slept like a rock, and ate like a queen).

i'm not sure how the conversation started, but...

MY AUNT: well, in the pictures, So and So looks like they've lost weight.

ME: oh, yeah. they have, and i think they've even lost more since those were taken.

MY 88-YEAR OLD GRANDMOTHER: well, i think looove is the reason Margaux's lost weight... that or SEX!

s'more of b'more

i'm going to baltimore this weekend. my grandma is there visiting my aunt and uncle. they live in glen arm, an rural-ish area outside of baltimore, whose rolling landscape is punctuated by red barns and majestic trees. there's a firehouse nearby that always seems to be hosting a pancake breakfast (two of my favorite words). i really love it there, even if i do get carsick on quick trips to the grocery store. cars go up and down and right and left. subways pretty much go in a straight line.

life there centers around the kitchen. the kitchen counter specifically. one might spend a few minutes lounging in the living room or watching football in the den, but one always returns to the kitchen counter. elbows on counter, chin in hands, watching life happen. i'm looking forward to sipping coffee and chatting with my grandma, eating ice cream while watching the evening news with my uncle rick, digging through recipe boxes with my aunt char, and breathing... deeply.

see you monday.

did i mention that she's a size 2?

how dare you have appear to have an ample derriere and appear happy in the same series of pics? shouldn't you be wallowing in self-hatred?

i'm sure you've probably read or heard about this already, but here you are.

http://www.tmz.com/2007/11/28/name-that-butt/

and check out the caption:

We know what you ate this summer, Love -- everything!

i'm not the biggest fan of her acting or her singing, but this is gross, gross, gross.

and i don't mean her ass, i mean TMZ's decision to post something like this and the litany of cruel comments that followed. i don't know why i'm shocked. i mean, TMZ and newsstand magazines like it put out entire issues devoted to the BEST and WORST beach bodies and it always horrifies me, and yet i always pick it up, don't i? (did i tell you that the head researcher at one of these mags told me over drinks that they put those "body" issues together when there is absolutely nothing else going on b/c they know it will always sell - specifically to young women? true.)

she has posted on her blog about this, but i can't seem to get to it. i'm guessing her server crashed from all the hits. here'sa quote from an article i found on aol:

"Like all women out there should, I love my body," the 28-year-old actress tells her fans on her blog, adding "A size 2 is not fat! Nor will it ever be. And being a size 0 doesn't make you beautiful.

The former Hanes model says that she has "sat by in silence" for too long, claiming women are unfairly subjected to criticism about their physique."I'm not upset for me, but for all of the girls out there that are struggling with their body image," Hewitt said. Hewitt, who recently starred in the CBS drama 'The Ghost Whisperer,' announced her engagement to Scottish actor Ross McCall in late November.

Despite her frustration, Hewitt has some words of encouragement to fellow women out there: "To all girls with butts, boobs, hips and a waist, put on a bikini – put it on and stay strong."

happy friday.

gratuituous "baby" pic of the week

my nephew tyler. the most beautiful 11-year old boy ever. just after a gladiator football game. he likes hip-hop and he loves to read. (click on the pic for a better view)

thankful

i am thankful for so many things this year.

the way the smell of Thanksgiving lingers in my apartment for days.

my pink velvet chair.

Target.

a job that both challenges me and pays me quite well (to be driven insane on a daily basis).

itsy bitsy Barbie shoes.

my niece and nephews.

On Writing by Stephen King.

i've learned to not only accept, but love, at least a little bit, my belly.

The Cute and his heart lattes and, well... just his heart.

i used to be good about keeping a daily list of what i'm grateful for. i find it to be so very helpful in keeping things in perspective. i know we all know it, but you focus on the lack, and that's all you're gonna see (and probably get more of) ever.

some damn dog took a crap on my shoe! look at this pile of shit on my shoe! my shoes are totally ruined, and now, so is my life! all because of this pile of shit! and there is no one here to help me clean it up! i am alone and stinky, and it will never ever get better!

meanwhile, there's a pile of treasure sparkling in the sunlight two feet away that i have completely forgotten about.

oh, that. but how can i possibly carry it all home with this pile of shit on my shoe?

today seems like a good day, the day after thanksgiving, to renew my commitment to keeping a gratitude journal (the name irritates me like the smell of English Tea Rose Potpourri but i'll deal with it until someone comes up with something less schmaltzy).

the daily grace!

adventures in gratitude!

the thankful almanac!

i'll keep working on it.

aren't they absolutely ridiculous? aren't they totally cute?

portion-peeking.

"that's not enough food for you."

he says, peeking at a co-worker's breakfast tray.

"it's all i want."

"well, it wouldn't be enough for her."

her meaning me.

i'm not sure what that means, and i'm not sure how i even got to be a part of this conversation, sitting there minding my business, but i know i don't like it. i don't understand why people find it acceptable to comment on another's food - portions, combinations, or otherwise. no one knows my, her, his, their needs more than i, she, he, or they. so zip it.

do not comment on the size of my food portions, and i will not comment on the size of your brain.

mom.

today is the 20th anniversary of my mom's death. she died of cancer. it started in the breast and metastasized to her lung, then brain, then liver. she died on a thursday in 1987. i was 12.

my brother played in the Valdosta High School football game on friday night. he wrote the word MOM across his taped knuckles.

to the funeral, i wore a navy blue corduroy dress with puffed sleeves and a white cotton collar that my aunt charlene bought me the day before. i didn't cry. i was tired of crying. i was relieved.

i ate macaroni and cheese at the reception. casseroles multiplied like Gremlins those first few days. high-carb condolences.

we had a guest book for those who "called" at the house. i thought that was weird. i still do.

we got a lot of sappy sweet sympathy cards. i hated those. i still do.

i'm not sure i believe in heaven, but if there is one, and i go there when i go, i imagine we'll be reunited. there will be no celestial fireworks. no formal fanfare. no white and wings and halos and trumpets, but running shorts and tennis shoes, her walking through the back door asking me to help with the groceries. Maizey, our golden lab, trailing eagerly behind her.

i've got bad hearing.

i'll be posting pretty infrequently for a while. work is a bit crazy with the holidays coming up, and i'm working on getting size ate booked at more colleges in the spring, so i won't have much time for blogging. and yes, there still is that latte-heart-drawing boy. he's still around, thank goodness, although i'm sad to say that the jig is completely up. he now knows how truly nuts i am. the other day (in my defense, it was the end of a very long, bumpy one) as i stood in the kitchen, he told me:

"wow. you look sexy, so tall and thin."

i burst into tears, of course.

what i heard was:

"you look sexy because you happen to look tall and thin right at this very moment, but usually you don't look sexy because you don't usually look tall and thin, so i'm not usually attracted to you. this probably means you'll eventually stop having these moments of looking sexy i.e. tall and thin, and so i'll probably stop being attracted to you at all, ergo i'll probably stop loving you at all."

what he meant was:

"you look sexy, so tall and thin."

men. so literal.

-----

thank you, lisa and nina.

http://lemongloria.blogspot.com/2007/11/weight-weightdont-tell-me.html

sage advice

i went to cleveland for my grandmother's 90th birthday party a couple of weekends ago. she's in amazingly good health. still sharp as a tack, still physically agile, still opinionated and unafraid to let you know exactly what she thinks. probably one of the reasons she's lived so long and in such good health. she doesn't hold it in. she just says it. in 90 years, she's never ever been wrong about anything. i mean it, just ask her. she'll tell you.

so, i attribute her long life to that. that and the one gin martini a day.

on sunday afternoon, most of the family had congregated in gram's kitchen to say their goodbyes. i hugged her:

"happy birthday, gram. i love you."

"i love you too." then, as the entire family looks on, she leans over to whisper something into my ear. i'm thinking she's going to say something to me about The Cute (who came with me, the brave, sweet man). what a lovely man he is. how kindhearted and how well he handled being surrounded by 30 of my relatives. and how do you spell his last name again?

"and i think you should brush your hair."

whatever it is i think i see becomes a tootsie roll to me!

my sister in law dressed up my nephew tate for halloween. desperately makes me want a baby so i can dress him up in adorable costumes for my own entertainment! i saw an infant dressed up as a Hershey Kiss once, and i had to stop myself from nibbling her toes off!

baby chipmunk tate seemed to be having a great time...

the same cannot be said for big brother grant.


he was a little afear'd of his Big Bad Wolf costume (to the neighbor's little girl's Little Red Riding Hood), so he went trick or treating partially costumed.


my halloween was no less festive. i dogsat for The Cute while he was in LaLa Land making music.


hope your halloween was happy and completely guilt-free!

'cause seriously, it is.

if you're looking for my very unimpressive bostini cream pie Daring Bakers Challenge blog post go to my new, non-body image/eating disorders related blog - everything i bake is brown.

eibib is just for fun. i plan on posting infrequently and haphazardly with flour in my hair and chocolate beneath my fingertips.

the body supposition

as i blowdried my hair this morning, my soft belly peeked out from beneath my t-shirt and said hello to my reflection in the mirror.

my gut reaction, was one of "ewwww. fat, fat, fat girl."

wow. like riding a bike that body hatred!

later on as i was walking down the street on this absolutely beautiful indian summer's day, it hit me: the only times in my life when my belly has looked the way that i think it should look - flat like the girls on the cover of Shape magazine-flat - has been when i have been either one of two things -

SAD or STARVING.

neither of which i have any interest in being anymore. at least not by choice.

so, this led me to the conclusion that i'm probably just not supposed to have a flat belly. that really helped me relax. i mean, doesn't it stand to reason that the body you have when you're happy is very likely the body you're supposed to have?

just a thought.

i'm sorry, but "anna rexia" would never have boobs that big.

Skeleton Costume includes Knit Dress with Glitter Screenprint, Headband, Choker Neckband, Removable “Anna Rexia” Badge and Ribbon Tie Belt. $42.95 at Three Wishes

wondering if The Cute would be willing to go as Beau Leemik?

(thanks, a.)

thought for the day

why and how would it ever be a good idea to have a Mexican food restaurant in an airport?

you're just about to board (with a bunch of strangers) a bus with wings. a relatively small, confined space equipped with a pseudo-toilet that doesn't really flush anything away and doesn't really provide a proper means of washing your hands. you get Wet-Ones.

and they think it a good idea to offer Mexican food. so much for friendly skies.