Tuesday, July 29, 2008

shark week

It's shark week on Discovery Channel. I watch it every year. I have this fascination with watching the shows about people being bitten and surviving, where they recreate the attack, or if they have video. Like the horrifying one of the girl getting her leg ripped off by a great white. I watch it every time it's on and hate myself for it. (I'll post it separately.)
Last night's shark survivor show was talking about how people look like turtles. A guy wearing camo shorts got attacked in Hawaii. He says he thinks the pattern of the shorts looked like a sea turtle shell.
I used to have a gold and brown patterned bathing suit. I can't imagine how much I must have looked like an enormous sea turtle, with my round body and very small head. (I have a tiny head--I have a terrible problem finding hats. Most hats fall down to my nose.) I can't remember if I ever wore that suit in the ocean or just in pools. I would have looked like the goddess of sea turtles.

shark video (not for squeamish)

Friday, July 25, 2008

fat=fundamentally different

Between all the problems with my leg, and my weight, I walk really slow. Even I find it annoying. I could try to walk faster, but that would increase my chances of tripping over something I can't see because my giant HH boobs are in the way. And then I would stumble, maybe fall, maybe hurt myself.
My house doesn't have any closets downstairs (it's very old) so we keep the vacuum, brooms, etc., in the room with the animals. Last week, I was carrying a tray of food for the morning feeding. I can only guess that one or more of the cats was rambunctious and knocked over a broom. Between the tray and the boobs, I didn't see the broom on the floor. I tripped over it, my feet entangled in it and I fell. I didn't hit the floor. Instead my shoulder landed squarely on the handle to the upright vacuum and it felt like it punched straight through the skin. I didn't drop the tray of food either, I'm proud to say. By the time I got to work about an hour later, the bruise on my shoulder was about 3" across and tender. If I had been running, or walking quickly, no doubt I would have smashed into the vacuum on the way down and then bashed my head either against the sharp edge of the nearby table or onto a heavy metal cage.
I don't like having to be careful. I feel like I live in an unhealthy combination of fear and sadness. I probably need a shrink again, or some good antidepressants. But there are no antidepressants that don't have weight gain as a side effect. I weigh enough. Weighing MORE isn't going to make me feel LESS sad.
So that's one thing about being fat that's different. How a fat person walks and moves through the world. But just that one thing really changes you mentally as well. You have to think about things differently. Will I fit? That's the big question. Can I walk between those cars? Sit in that booth? Get in that little sports car or economy car? Can I climb all those stairs?
Balance is a huge problem. All my weight is up front. Big boobs, big belly. My butt isn't small, but it doesn't balance out my boobs. If I have to carry something, it throws my balance totally off, unless I put whatever it is on my shoulder. One physical therapist I work with said that my center of gravity is so far from where it should be that it's amazing that I can walk down a hallway without just toppling over.
And there are mental issues, so many of them. If anyone is mean to me for any reason, or ignores me, I wonder immediately if it's because I'm fat. Although I don't smell bad, I know a lot of fat people sweat a lot and do smell. Do people think I smell? Or maybe I do smell and no one has ever told me. I have a new job and I haven't made many friends yet. People tend to band with those they've worked with for a long time. Is it because they dislike me as a person? Because fat is contagious? Or do they not even think of me, because their existing friends are right there? I drive myself absolutely batshit crazy over things like this. If you don't like me because you don't like my personality, fine, I know I can be abrasive. And honestly I really don't like people much as a species.
Last night I half-watched two new shows on Comedy Central--some gong-show remake and a reality show with comedians. One of the contestants was a very overweight guy (boobs as big as mine, or so they looked) who got out of a strait jacket (and his shirt). He was starting to cram himself through a hula hoop when he got gonged.
You can watch a bit of it here:


I found myself thinking that he looked smelly. And I was appalled that I thought that way. Although he was pretty sweaty and throwing himself around the stage. If he had been trying to make a joke out of it, it might have been okay. But he seemed deadly serious, and trying desperately to get through his routine without being gonged. It made me sad for him. And I wanted to tell him to take a shower.
The other show had a fat black woman that everyone on the was supposed to try to make fall in love with them. (She's the hooker from the Borat movie.) She was pole dancing and having a lot of fun. Why can black women be sexy and fat? I know I've posted on this before and I've never found the secret. They wear clothes that shouldn't work for their size, and they look good. They look hot, even though they are 300 lbs of sausage in a 200 lb sized dress.

Monday, July 21, 2008

want? don't want? (tapeworm diet)


There's one painless, easy way to lose weight. Ingest a tapeworm! It eats what you eat and you poop out its poop. Hard to remove, but hey, why would you want to?
I find the amount of food, and selection of food, in the ad, too funny. Prunes? Coffee? Who pigs out on prunes? And coffee might work now, for the Koffee Kult of Starbucks, but back then?
And you know what's sad? There are still places you can buy tapeworms for weight loss.
Want weight loss. Do not want to eat live worms.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

obesity hardwired genetically?

It's not my fault I'm fat, it's genetic...
and here it is...
British and French scientists say they have identified several variants of a single gene that boost the risk of obesity. Previous research had shown that an extremely rare mutation in the same PCSK1 gene can, all by itself, lead to huge gains in weight, making it the only known source of so-called "monogenetic'' obesity.
....When (researchers) compared the genomes of 13,000 obese individuals of European ancestry to those of a normal control group, the researchers found three mutations in the gene that were far more common among those coping with excess weight....
PCSK1 produces an enzyme, called proconvertase 1, that plays a critical role in converting inactive forms of hormones that control appetite and regulate energy metabolism into active forms....
These hormones include insulin and glucagon, involved in the metabolism of sugar and carbohydrates, as well as a third molecule that signals to the brain that one has eaten enough.
Nearly 25 per cent of the population (studied) has a different form of the enzyme that is apparently a little bit more active.
Okay, so having a more active enzyme is bad? Isn't metabolizing things quickly POSITIVE? Don't overweight people tend to have SLOW metabolisms?
(screenprint)
And before the angry comments pour in, I do not blame my being overweight on genetics.

"You have a baby. In a bar."

This is my new pet peeve: children and babies in bars. (You might recognize the above quote from the movie “Sweet Home Alabama” in which the main character is nonplussed at meeting up with an old friend who has brought an infant to a rowdy bar.)

As part of my saving money thing (due to gas prices), I’ve been eating happy hour food in bars. You would THINK that no one under 21 would be allowed in a bar, for any reason. That’s how it used to be. You used to get carded upon entering the bar, and if you were not 21, you didn’t get in. Simple as that. It wasn’t okay to be under 21 if your mommy was with you. I can remember going to the Chili’s in Milford, CT, which is an old-style Chili’s with the bar in the front and center, and having to wait for a table. My friend and I went into the bar to wait, and I didn’t have my ID, and I had to leave, even though I was around 30 at the time and only drinking soda. The Chili’s I now eat happy hour food at is a newer style one, with a larger bar off to the side. I was there recently with my husband and a friend of mine who is in her 60’s. I was carded when I ordered my diet Pepsi and told I had to leave because I didn’t have an ID. A CHILD was sitting at the next table. I asked why the child was allowed in. Because he was with his parents. That is totally bogus. It’s a BAR, not a Chuck-E-Cheese. My husband goes to regular bars, which aren’t part of restaurants, and he tells me they are full of children, sitting there coloring while their parents drink.

WTF?

I guess it’s good that it’s so annoying, because I’m eating out less and less. Between the cost (if it’s not half price happy hour food) and the children (even when it is half price happy hour food) it’s just too frustrating for me. I would like to eat a meal without being stared at over the back of the seat, without having the seat I’m in kicked repeatedly, without having my hair pulled, without flung sippee cups and toys flying around the restaurant and bouncing off my head and table, without children running screaming up and down the aisles tripping the wait staff, without babies in filthy stinking diapers screaming because it’s 9:00 p.m. and they should be home in bed.

I guess you can call this the “I hate children” diet. I didn’t used to hate them so much, but they get worse and worse. My mother and grandmother insist that I was never allowed to act like that in public. (They like to go to Friendly’s to eat, which is kid-central.) I don’t remember ever running and screaming inside a store OR a restaurant. My husband admits to throwing tantrums and having to be dragged out of places as a very small child, but he wasn’t allowed to keep being bad, he was removed.

I am SO GLAD I haven’t got any children. If you are thinking about procreating, please visit this website: http://www.vhemt.org/

Monday, July 14, 2008

something peculiar, times two

Due to the outrageous cost of gas, I've been eating lunch at work rather than going out. Saves money, saves time, whether it saves any calories I don't know. But I'll tell you this: after 3 weeks of doing it, I have no desire to eat fast food.
The other day I was thinking how strange it was that I never finish my can of Diet Pepsi when I eat food from home. It annoys me that the soda for some reason bubbles up the straw and drips everywhere. I found a small glass I could use and started pouring my soda into the glass. And the first day I did that, I drank TWO cans. Eating the same exact food, same portion size, as the day before when I drank half a can. Feeling no more or less thirsty.
I'm sure this is in some way related to the whole container-size issue, but I don't understand how. Why would I not finish a full can when drinking from the can (treating the can as a serving size) but drink way more when using a small juice glass (like a glass Dixie cup)?
So that's the peculiar thing which is kind of interesting.

Now this is the one that's kind of bad.
The other day, I used the bathroom at a restaurant, and when I wiped it was all blood. The toilet didn't look like it had blood in it, though. I had just ended my period a couple days before so it wasn't that, and anyway I could tell it was coming from my butt area. I haven't told anyone (but you, readers) because I don't know what to do. I had been eating a lot of tomato sauce and salsa that day and the day before, so I'm thinking was it somehow tomatoes? But then again, I'm a girl, and I've seen period blood plenty of times, and this sure looked like blood.
Here's how it can go. There aren't many ways.
  • It was nothing.
  • It was something, and I die.
  • It was something, and I get better.
Since I just lost my father, I hope it isn't option 3, because literally that would kill my mother, and my grandma. I'm the only child/grandchild. And obviously I want to live.
It hasn't happened again. My butt feels fine. I feel fine (except for my leg). So now what?