Back in May I took an “honesty challenge” and listed ten reasons I wanted to lose weight. I spent most of the first part of this year in a bad place, and my list reflects that. But basically, my list was “health” (high cholesterol), “convenience” times two (difficulty finding clothing and bras), and “vanity” times seven.

Well, the health reason is no more. My cholesterol levels have gone from “yikes” to “normal, keep up the good work”, which officially makes me a Healthy Fat Person. The next time I go clothes shopping, I should be able to shop Petite Miss, not Petite Plus (although this is just a numerical distinction, an artifact of dropping from a 14 to a 12 — it’s not like I’ve been shopping in the “Woman”* section or anything). My belly is no longer its own separate entity, and has re-assimilated into the rest of my body.

* What an asinine, uselessly euphemistic name. Just call it “Plus”, for crying out loud! Or, better, “The Muumuu Section”, because that’s all that’s ever there.

So, what are we left with?

Honesty List, Redux

1. Because I would like to someday once again be able to walk into a brick-and-mortar store, try on some bras, and come out with one that fits.
2. Because I am vain, and I want to be smaller.

There. There’s your honesty list. Until the cholesterol shoe dropped (and until I tragically outgrew Victoria’s Skeletons), I always thought of my extra weight as “vanity pounds”, nothing more. And it’s not as if I hate my body and want to chop it into little pieces and make it go away. I did feel that way several months ago. But now that the fog has cleared, I look at pictures of myself at/near my highest weight and realize that I am a damn cute fat person. I could rock the “fat chick” look. I just don’t want to.

So, here’s to Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Smaller Clothing Sizes.

My weight loss has inexplicably stalled out at the 15-lb mark, despite saintly adherence to my diet (90% of the time) and faithful exercise (most days). I’m not regaining, though, and on an average of 1300 calories a day, I’m not concerned about that happening anytime soon. I seem to have reached what John Walker would call a stable point in the system, but he takes for granted that, given patience and saintly adherence to the diet and exercise plan, any plateau will naturally resolve itself in a few days. I’ve been plateaued for a solid month.

Those in the fat-acceptance world would probably say that I have reached my “set point” and that I am doomed biologically pre-determined to maintain — or at least, go no lower than — this weight for the rest of my natural life. I would be prepared to accept and embrace this if I were convinced that it were true. I’m not.

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Et tu, Dora??

How do you say “Hey, kids! I’m full of lead paint!” in Spanish?

Sen. Dick Durbin, an Illinois Democrat, introduced a bill last month that he contended would dramatically expand the product safety commission’s ability to protect consumers. In a statement Wednesday night, Durbin also called for better safety standards for products imported from China.

“Sadly, this is the most recent in a series of disturbing recalls of children’s toys. While the toys may be different, they have one thing in common — they were manufactured in China,” he said. “With the current tools and resources the Consumer Product Safety Commission has, it cannot adequately protect American consumers.”

Oopsie. First antifreeze in the toothpaste, now this? Suddenly “made in China” takes on a whole new and sinister meaning.

Hey, need a reason to stay home today? Just tell your boss that the office printer is killing you.

The humble office printer can damage lungs in much the same way as smoke particles from cigarettes, according to a team of Australian scientists.

An investigation of a range of models showed that almost a third emit potentially dangerous levels of toner into the air.

“Death by paperwork”? It could be true! Just to be safe, I think we should avoid all contact with printers, copiers, and toner cartridges until further notice. Perhaps in the future, offices should be designated “printing” and “non-printing”.

Sometimes I feel like the only “dieter” in the universe who hasn’t got some kind of eating disorder (been reading the wrong blogs again… bleh). People on fat acceptance blogs seem to take for granted that “dieting” is completely synonymous with “anorexia and exercise bulimia”. They talk about how it’s completely normal for parents to put their pre-pubescent and not all that fat kids on crash diets, thus fucking up their metabolism for life and permanently souring their relationship with food. They talk about years spent eating nothing but “lettuce and air” and exercising three hours a day. Are we living on the same planet? Am I the only person in the whole world with sane, non-abusive parents? I don’t understand why people go on crash diets or fad diets at all. Why would you do that to yourself? Are these people’s heads screwed on loose? What makes anyone think they can live on, say, celery and flaxseed for long enough to even lose the weight, much less figure out how to maintain after that?

I would call what I’m on a “diet”, for lack of a better term, but that does not at all mean that I’m starving all day (again — what’s the point if it’s not maintainable? Why would I do that to myself?) or that I’ve forbidden myself any food that I actually like or have “good food” and “bad food” lists. Why would anyone voluntarily go on a diet exclusively composed of foods they hate? What kind of thoughts go through a fad dieter’s mind when they decide to try the “cabbage diet” even though they can’t stand cabbage? Or even if they like cabbage?

So, I eat when I’m hungry, I eat foods I like, I exercise for 45 minutes a day and enjoy it… but because my diet is calculated to make me run a calorie deficit, what I’m doing is automatically harmful and abusive to my body? If I said that I like my body more, not less, since I’ve been doing this, even though I’m still fat, would it blow their minds? Can they conceive of an existence where I look in the mirror and am curious and excited about things getting smaller and stronger, instead of tearing myself down the way “all” dieters “MUST” do? Where is this memo that says I have to hate my body in order to change it or make it healthier? I must have missed it.

Has the whole world gone insane? Do I have three heads and come from Mars and I just never realized it? I don’t even understand which side I’m on, since everyone tells me I’m flat-out wrong.

I read Richard Simmons’ message of the day every morning, and now I’m struggling to remember at what point he’s ever said anything useful or motivating to me. Clearly, the man’s target audience consists entirely of 400-lb compulsive eaters. I’ve known this for a while, too. But was there a point in the past when it wasn’t true? Why did I start reading this stuff, anyway?

You go to the movies and you know the drill. It’s an American favorite to sit there, watching the movie while mindlessly dipping into that giant bucket of popcorn. To be followed by a pack of Rollos and, oh, you`re thirsty now so you`d better take a sip of your 64-ounce cup of diet soda! Yikes! Hey, you`re sure not gonna lose weight this weekend doing any of that, you know!

It just… boggles my mind. Does all this guilt-tripping actually help anyone? He’s certainly not describing me, and I’d be insulted if I thought he were. I’m sure a lot of the people in his target audience do eat like this, but what is rubbing their noses in it and saying, “No! Bad fatty!” supposed to accomplish? If they’re hopelessly compelled to keep doing this even though they know what it does to them, then they need, you know, therapy. And if they’re just doing it out of mindless habit, then surely positive suggestions would work better? Say, Richard, what’s something I should do this weekend, other than not stuff my face? ‘Cause, I like to think I’ve got that part down, thank you very much.

What’s a marginally-obese, non-compulsive eater to do?

…really!

Courtesy of this little toy that I found on the internets. Which could have been really, really fun, except that it looks like everyone who falls into the “obese” category — for which LeBlanc, like me, barely qualifies — gets the Matt LeBlanc comparison. Similarly, anyone who falls anywhere into the “overweight” category also gets an identical result, which is kind of pathetic given the list of a whole bunch of celebrites with various BMIs right under the game.

But they don’t have any celebrities with a BMI higher than 34 and those comparisons don’t even come up, which seriously dilutes their point. Is someone who is morbidly obese really comparable to just-barely-obese Matt LeBlanc? I don’t think so. And yet, even if I tell the calculator I weigh 400 pounds — hey! I’m just like Matt LeBlanc! It’s not just misleading, it undermines my genuine just-like-LeBlanc creds! (For the record, at 5′0″ and 157 pounds, I have a BMI of 30.6. The given height and weight for Matt LeBlanc would give him a BMI of 30.4. Yay for us!)

P.S. Check out what happens when you give the calculator an “underweight” value.

(As much for me as for anyone else.)

If you “only” lost one pound this week, this is how much you lost:

Yes, that is another MyPetFat. Don’t worry, I’m not collecting them — I just wanted to know what a whole pound felt like. I shall call this one “Spot”. I think he looks kind of cute, like a little fatty llama.

I’ve been tits-deep in fat acceptance blogs again and I think I’ve just identified what bothers me so much about some of them. It’s their absolute, dogged insistence on repeating their “diets don’t work! diets don’t work!” mantra. Yes, you can make all kinds of valid and insightful arguments about how pushing diets on people or making kids diet isn’t “the answer”, that’s not the part that gets my goat… it’s the part where some FA people seem to feel the need to take it one step further and use it as a weapon against their fellow fat people.

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