LifePundit

Bathing Suits, Weight Watchers and Hunger

This is me in a few weeks. I've ordered this suit from Lands End. It's on backorder. That will give me time to get down to this size AND grow my hair long.

Well, maybe not quite this size. This may be a few months away. And I'm actually going to get my hair cut, not grow it out. But you get the idea.

I like swimsuits that look like tennis dresses. Yes, I am that old. The last time I wore a bikini was three years and many pounds ago. Lapse of judgment in a foreign country, egged on by my husband. I felt silly wearing the bikini, and right now, nobody would want to see me in one. They'd be scarred for life. So, it's tennis dress-looking swimsuits for me. And if this one doesn't come in on time (or look okay), I've already received this one below, also from Lands End. Mine is just the same but has a blue skirt bottom.

Somehow, I can't muster the smiles these models have when wearing these suits. And honestly, if I looked like these models, these would not be the suits I'd be wearing.

For the first time in forever, I am motivated to change. I joined Weight Watchers last Monday night at a local church. Sadly, I just got a phone call that they didn't have enough people sign up so they're canceling for now.

Paul said the funniest thing he has ever said. "Why don't you go stand in front of Wal-Mart and recruit? You'd find a lot of eligible people."

I'd probably lose a lot of weight in the hospital, too, recovering from the assaults. "What you mean 'Would I like to join Weight Watchers?' Do I look fat to you?" And then she'd beat me to death. Or just sit on me till I was squashed into nothingness.

But motivation is motivation. I'm going to diet off some of the moving parts I have acquired in the last few years. Those places that keep walking after I've stopped. Those pointy little things on my hips that made Lily think I had tennis balls stuffed under my new tennis-looking swim skirt (since that's what I do with real tennis balls in my real tennis skirt). Mean child. Tells the truth.

I've downloaded The Beck Diet Solution to my iPod and am going to brainwash myself into "thinking like a thin person." I got the workbook on Amazon. It looks just right for me.

I've got sticky notes all over the house with my motivations on them. And cards where I've written the reasons I'm going to do this. (None of them say, "so I can wear a bikini.")

My cleverest one is "Baggy clothes only hide who you really are."

My saddest one is "People treat you differently (better) when you are smaller."

My scariest one is "You're going to live a long time. You'd better be sure you're healthy."

My truest one is "So what if you're hungry? You're going to eat again in a couple of hours. Hunger is good."

My best one is "I like me so much I'm going to choose me over food."

Do I dare say I'll be reporting my progress here? Will I be posting a photo of me in these suits?

Not unless I can figure out how to Photoshop my head onto these pictures.

Wish me luck! And send carrots.

Even Our Starving People Are Fat

I'm still trying to make sense out of how Americans spend $40 billion each year on weight-loss products and programs while 24,000 people die every day in the rest of the world from hunger related causes. I talked about this in an earlier post.

Yesterday the Salvation Army ran out of volunteers to serve in their kitchen, so they called our church, which called me. I didn't know what to expect, but Lily and I showed up, put our hairnets and plastic gloves on, and worked in different spots on the serving line.

All I did was do as I was told and this is hardly an in-depth report on the demographics of the people served by the Salvation Army. But one thing I can tell you is that nobody was skinny, and quite a few were fat.

They may have been malnourished and fat on unhealthy foods, but this is my point: in our country we have such abundance that even our "starving" people who need a free meal are fat. Or at least some of them are.

That's a blessing. And a curse.

How Did We End Up So Fat?

I've just written my second campaign for a Christian organization that's working to end world hunger. Actually, it wasn't my campaign. It is God's campaign and I was blessed to be chosen to write it.

In researching for this work, I came across some disturbing information. I don't even listen anymore when I hear the news that Americans are fat. A trip to Wal-Mart will confirm that report. What I didn't know is that the weight-loss industry brings in $40 billion dollars a year. Think of how many people that could feed!

And I also didn't know that every day 24,000 people in the world die of hunger-related causes. Or that every year 300,000-400,000 Americans die of obesity related causes.

Do you find this as disturbing as I do? Too bad we can't do a Great Fat Transfer. We weigh in and send the excess to Somalia.

Gluttony used to be one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Now it's the virtue of the covered dish supper.

Do you remember the movie "Black Hawk Down"? One of the most disturbing things about that movie to me is that the Americans called the people who were attacking us "The Skinnies." And they were. (This is not to say I wasn't disturbed by the rest of the movie -- I was. It was the language I found haunting.) I don't think the world should be divided into Skinnies and Fatties. But it is.

In our culture, fat people know they are fat, invisible and given lower status. I don't want to beat up on fat people, in part because I have a sweet tooth that's working against me and struggle with my weight, going up and down and up and down and mostly up again.

And I hate showy, one-shot spectacles designed to "raise awareness." You know. You have a church supper where you pay to eat gruel and the money goes to a shelter. These are dangerous because they make you think you did something, when you didn't really. Yet you feel good about yourself and are relieved of anxiety and guilt. "I ate gruel one time so all the babies in India would be fed." No you didn't.

As the Republican that I am, I think part of the problem is that the government has taken our money from us and told us that they are using it to feed the hungry and take care of the poor. (And after tax day, I must say that they've got to be feeding an awful lot of people for that amount.) We're relieved of responsibility to care for others without being given the gift of choosing to do it ourselves -- and feeling good about it. Others aren't personally responsible for themselves, and we're not responsible for them -- the government is. (And why is it that the less money you have, the heavier you are in America?)

And I also know that wars and repressive governments in poor countries starve their own people. That doesn't get us off the hook for helping starving people in other countries (or the war-torn countries, though that can't be fixed just by sending over food. All I'm talking about here is sending over food.)

I wonder if it isn't time for churches to develop comprehensive programs to help their members lose weight, get healthier and use the money not spent on unhealthy foods to feed The Skinnies elsewhere in the world? Here's an idea: a group within the church decides that they want to eat healthy food and save money. So they form a group that buys food in bulk, the members take turns cooking it in large quantities (but healthy portions) and group members get healthy meals every night of the week but only have to cook once. The savings from buying in bulk go to a hunger program. Over time the group loses weight, gets healthier -- and some Skinnies get fed, too. (In fact, while they're cooking they could cook healthy meals for the poor Fatties in the community.)

I can see all the reasons this won't work. People are busy. Johnny has a basketball game and I can't cook tonight or pick up the meal. Little Amanda won't eat food with specks (in this case, thyme) in it. Who thought it was a good idea to cook 40 lbs. of beets?

But something needs to work. Surely we can think of something. BooMama is on the same wavelength, because she just returned from Africa, and she's got an interesting post that's led to the "adoption" of orphans for a year. To read it, go here.

We can do something. We're killing ourselves. And they're dying.

Photo from here.

The Subway Salad I Couldn't Eat

I don't mean to pick on Subway here. We eat there a lot on road trips because we all like it and it can be a healthy choice.

But one day I got a salad there that I couldn't eat. Of course I was in a hurry. Of course there was a line at Subway, and the people behind the counter were in slow motion. I ordered a salad, which seemed like it should be fast and easy. It wasn't.

If it doesn't suit you to work behind the counter at a fast-food restaurant, you should perhaps consider finishing high school. But I didn't say anything. First the drop-out sullenly plopped some lettuce in a disposable bowl. She flicked the pieces that escaped back in. Then she plopped on the veggies I wanted -- tomatoes, cucumbers, olives. Then she took out the pre-assembled slabs of lunch meat and put them on the chopping-block counter.

With her knife, she began to cut the meat into strips. With every slice, she took off a fingertip of her plastic gloves. When all her glove fingertips were cut off and some had made their way into my salad, she sullenly picked the fingertips out of my salad and threw them away. Then she threw her gloves away and put on another pair.

I knew at that very moment that I would never, ever be able to eat that salad. Why I paid for it and walked out the door has no explanation. Perhaps, for once, I was speechless.

What would you have done?

My Friend Just Lost 12 Pounds. Is She Still My Friend?

My neighbor, friend and walking buddy joined Weight Watchers about three weeks ago. She's lost 12 pounds. Is she still my friend?

Her husband's having a problem with this, too. You see, heart disease runs in his family and he's a smoker. She's been desperately trying to get him to quit smoking. He told her that when she loses 20 pounds, he'd quit. He thought he was safe. Now he's telling her to slow down.

My fat pants are tight. I can get bigger and buy new pants. I can get smaller and toss these fat pants. Which will I do?

How big can I get? Don't want to find out!

Envy can be a good thing. It says, "Though shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, ass or anything that is thy neighbor's." Did you see weight loss listed in there? I think it's okay if I covet my neighbor's weight loss -- especially if it inspires me to get healthier.

Can't have her giving me her fat pants when they're falling off of her, can I? So, in a surge of envy, I joined Weight Watchers online. I keyed in what I ate yesterday. I have 35 points for the week. I've already used 21. This can't be good. How long is a week?

I'll be going out to get legal food later today. Wish me luck -- or I may have to move.

Sugar, the New Diet Food

Click to enlarge. I found a new diet food. It has only 15 calories per serving and 0 grams trans fat. I'll bet it's even all natural. Just what we've been looking for.

What can this new wonder diet food be? It's Wal-Mart's pure cane sugar.

This makes me mad. There are probably people stupid enough (yes, and their vote counts the same as yours, unless you're from Australia and can't vote here anyway) to think that this calorie count is so low that they don't even need to think about their diabetes. The label should instead read, "Really awesome when combined with fat and chocolate. But like all things that taste great, must be used in moderation. Make sure you measure out serving size or you and your blood sugar are in for a big surprise."

What Should Governments Do About Fat People?

Oh my. We've got legislators in Mississippi trying to keep fat people from getting served in restaurants (info. thanks to Venomous Kate). And we've got a study saying that fat people are cheaper for their societies because they die off sooner (I think that's how you read this report). Though I've found contrary evidence and written about it here. So what's a government to do?

Tax TVs?
Tax excess poundage?
Refuse to serve people in restaurants?
Make nutrition info. mandatory (do you think the people at the all-you-can-eat place care?)?
Hand out free ice cream to lower health costs by killing off fat people?
Mind their own beeswax?

I'd like to know that that blooming onion has 3,000 calories because that's beyond my wildest dreams/nightmares. And I'm all for incentives to change behaviors. But first off, let's weigh the average government employee and I mean that in every way. Maybe we need a skinnier government, not a more meddlesome one.

Years ago Bill Buckley had a plan to do away with the Food Stamp program altogether and give out free food to all in the grocery stores. I think his plan had something like bulk rice, beans and two more items that were free to everyone. Walk in the store, help yourself. No one would starve and there were minimal administrative costs. Whatever happened to that idea?

Obesity is a problem. But if looking in a mirror doesn't provide enough incentive for individuals to change, I don't think the government can make one ounce of difference. All we'll get is fatter government and fatter people.

If I Gain More Weight, I Can Have Lap-Band Surgery

There's always a reason to celebrate with food. And now, with Thanksgiving and Christmas coming, there'll be more opportunities than ever.

I've been trying to diet and exercise, but I'm beginning to despair. My fat pants are too tight. I don't want to roll into the New Year with bigger fat pants, because I'm sure that they'll soon be too tight, too. My closet can't hold another bigger-sized wardrobe (I currently can shop in my own closet for sizes 6, 8, 10 and 12.)

I've tried most of the conventional weight-loss methods. They all seem to rely on eating less and exercising more. That's just un-American. I want to have my cake and eat it, too! Then I want to have another one. I've got some seriously overweight people in my family tree. If I don't do something soon, I could end up as wide as I am tall. (I'm not what you'd call tall, but still.)

So I think I'm going to throw caution to the wind and just go ahead and let my stomach do the talking and the deciding over the holidays. I have lost this battle for too long. I'm tired of feeling bad about my diet and exercise failures. I'm going to go ahead, get bigger, and then I'll qualify for lap-band surgery.

I don't need a diet. I need an intervention.

I understand that Dr. Richard E. Collier houston lap band is the foremost lap-band surgeon in Houston. If you're one of the best in Texas, that makes you one of the best in the U.S.  It's a simple, endoscopic procedure that's reversible. I don't think I'm there yet, but everything I read about him makes him an option. There are some procedures, even if it involves travel, that really can change your life.

Stomach, you're put on notice. You might think you're in charge of us, but I have access to the skills and knowledge that can get us back in the clothes we so love. (This is a paid post.)

Novel idea

It's time. I have hidden from my novel long enough. I should say "novels" because I've started at least two. I've had some short stories published and a couple of plays produced, so for some reason, I believe I'm supposed to write a novel. Novel idea and all that. So sorry.

But how to pick up where I left off? Maybe I shouldn't even try. A different person was working on those stories. I have different stories to tell now, if I haven't blown it by telling them all here....

Maybe I should start over. But there's nothing worse than a writer with a string of failed projects. I read that somewhere. Sounds terrible, doesn't it? A string of failed projects.

Sounds even worse to keep beating your head against the same wall. I think I get to have a fresh start, even though I'm going to tackle the same story.

It's a family story. A mystery (no blood or any foul play, just intrigue). Something I've always wanted to know more about. Like what happened.

So, since the truth is lost (stories die with the people who lived them), I'm going to come up with a truth, like all good fiction; it just won't be THE truth about what happened.

I'm excited but scared. Writing my blogs has made me realize that writing is fun and its own reward. (I am a professional freelance writer, so my usual reward is money, which is a pretty good reward for getting to stay home and do what comes naturally, though I'm not sure that some of the stuff I get paid to write about is all that natural a topic for me.) Blogging has livened up my life. Thanks for reading and for the encouragement. I'm going to keep this up -- and have also started a couple of blogs for my writing -- one directed to goal achievement, and the other for whining. Since I reveal who I really am there, I'm probably not going to link to them here, though I'm not sure why. Probably if you requested the links in a comment I would e-mail them to you. I'm that high security-conscious.

And I've got another goal. I'm going to lose 10 lbs. in 8 weeks. (I need to lose more but I'll do it 10 lbs. at a time. Heck! If I'd quit gaining, that would be progress.) If I reach that goal, I get to go buy myself a killer outfit (complete with jewelry) at Chico's. Or somewhere else if all their clothes are ugly that day.

This Sandwich Generation stuff is tough. Paul went to the ER yesterday morning because he woke up deaf in one ear, which you may not have known, is considered a medical emergency. He's fine and can hear today. The assisted living place called this morning because they were going to send my father to the ER again, he was doing so poorly. I went up there. He'd quit eating and was disoriented, among other things. I made him a pimento cheese sandwich with his favorite kind of pimento cheese and bread from his favorite bakery. He ate it all and it perked him right up. No ER for him! Tomorrow he plans to go to the garden.

My mother didn't know me, though she smiled.

Writing, like reading, is a great escape. I get a month to get organized in my mind, then I'm off.

It tastes healthy (is that a compliment?)

What to cook for supper? I really think it might be cheaper if we ate out. How can groceries cost so much? Plus, I'm really sick of cooking. I'm even more sick of trying to think of something interesting to cook.

So, I've gone back to trying new recipes in my cookbooks. Yesterday I tried a crockpot recipe for Tuscan Chicken or something like that. Lots of vegetables, garlic, beans, seasonings and one of my favorite ingredients, roasted red peppers. Plus you ate it over pasta (whole wheat in this case). Sounded good. Sounded healthy.

It didn't give off much of an aroma, which is not a great sign in crockpot cooking. But it looked pretty. All those colors.

We sat down to eat. Nobody said anything. Now, I need a lot of positive reinforcement. Whether I have bothered to pick up a sock off the floor or win at the Olympics, somebody needs to notice. I need praise. And Paul and Lily are really good about saying how good the food is for supper, which is why I bother (plus I like to eat good food and I'm eating with them.)

"So, how do you like dinner?" I said. There was a silence as I could tell they were trying to compose an answer. I was frankly disappointed in dinner. It badly needed something. It wasn't disgusting, it wasn't bland, it was just something you could stop eating at any time and not be sad about it. Say, if I hadn't cooked enough, that would have been a good thing.

"So, how do you like dinner?" I said again.

"It tastes healthy," Lily said.

Paul jumped right in. "Yes, I can tell this is really healthy. It's good. It's healthy."

"What about the taste?" I insisted.

"It tastes healthy," Lily said. I was having trouble continuing to eat. It just wasn't worth all that chewing.

They managed to eat most of what they had taken, but I didn't even bother to put the leftovers in the refrigerator. This morning I was honestly afraid that the dog wouldn't eat it. He left most of the beans and the vegetables, but he did like the chicken. What a shame. Not even our dog likes healthy.