FatGrrl Reviews: Embracing Your Big Fat Ass

Ellie and I were (not so) recently called upon to review the newest book by Laura Banks and Janette Barber, Embracing Your Big Fat Ass: An Owner’s Manual. Ellie and I had the OMGBRILLIANT! idea of meeting up on an instant messenger and doing a little Fat and Sassy Book Club thing, but we only managed to match up our schedules once. Naturally, it’s hard to understand how two husbands, three kids, ninety-nine tenants, two dogs, and a cat could keep we two apart, but there you have it.

Our feelings on this book were rather mixed, which I think you’ll pick up from the following transcript. Enjoy this (slightly unorthodox) FatGrrl Review, and by all means, chime in if you’ve read the book or have thoughts about this topic in general. We love to hear from you!

FatGrrl: I’m gonna grab some diet coke and the book and we can get started. Mwah!

Ellie:  okey doke.

Ellie:  I’ve got my book, too.

FatGrrl: Word.

FatGrrl:  Ok, let’s see here. where to start….

FatGrrl: How about using one of the reviews as a jumping off point?

Ellie:  got one in mind?

Continue reading »

Totally not a coincidence that Obama’s inauguration and Kiba’s birthday are the same day.

Happy 5th Birthday, Kiba-chan! Momma loves you!

Stick It To Me

So we’re going on 4 or 5 weeks with my back injury, but the good news is that now I’m spending about 90% of my walking time in an upright position, and the other 10% hobbling. Ahhh….so much better.

It came up at my last session with PhD Smiley and as I had been weighing my treatment options - you know, sans medical insurance - I threw out a question and crossed my fingers:

“By chance, does the Emily Program have a massage therapist on staff?”

“Sure do.”

“Awesome….”

“We have an acupuncturist on staff, too.”

“Shut UP!”

At that point I thought I would faint with happiness at the possibility of getting care for my back at a place where I already had an established account and did not have to mess with the potential nightmare of hospital bills. But it got better! PhD Smiley went on to tell me about her experience with acupuncture, and that it is great for treating both physical AND emotional pain. That’s when my fear of needles started creeping towards the front of my brain, but I tried to relax because, hey, acupuncture could help with that anxiety!

I’m on the waiting list now to get an appointment with the acupuncturist and despite my nervousness, I am very excited to talk with the doctor about what this treatment could do for my back and knee pain, as well as my anxiety and depression. It sounds like an Eastern medicine double whammy! Sweet….

But I’m curious to hear from you. Have any of you worked with Eastern medical practices? What did you try, and for what symptoms? What was your experience like? Would you do it again?

I just don’t get Slim-Fast.

So lately in La Casa De Ellie, there’s been much bitching and moaning, because my teeth are now so officially fucked up that I can’t eat (which, you know, most people would think would be a GOOD thing, being fat and all.  You know, because I might lose some weight.  *insert epic eye roll*).  So about two days goes by on nothing but coffee and tea and massive amounts of whining, and I’m starting to look a little deathly and I’m getting more and more pathetic, because we had just gone to the store and I had just bought a bunch of things I love, like kalamata olives and baby spring mix lettuce and this really heavenly balsamic vinaigrette (FYI, Balsamic vinaigrette lovers: WalMart sells this dressing that is DIRT CHEAP and tastes exactly like the kind they serve at the Macaroni Grill, which is so good that I have to keep from indulging my baser nature and just drinking it.  The brand is called All Seasons.  Just in case you are like me and have been on The Neverernding Search For A Really Good Vinagrette.) and feta cheese no one eats but me.  Heaven, right?  Not if you have to stare at it and think about how you couldn’t possibly chew any of it.

Anyway, I’m all pathetic and hungry and whining and my teeth hurt.  Mr Ellie decides to go on the Great Hunt for food I don’t have to actually chew.  He brings back a big-ass box of Strawberry Slim Fast, that swears it’ll keep me from being hungry for four hours.  He’s very proud of this and keeps pointing it out on the box.

Meanwhile, I’m having Diet PTSD and I swear I’m reliving The Year Of Weight Watchers where I starved all year and exercised like a fiend and lost 18 lbs.  My husband, meanwhile, simply does not understand why I’m touching the Slim Fast like it’s a box full of venomous tarantulas.

Mr Ellie: But look!  Four hours!  And it has protein!  And fiber!  That should help, right?

Me: Num. *wrinkling nose and nudging box with foot*

Mr Ellie: *crestfallen* You don’t like it?

Me: No, I’ll drink it.  Thank you, honey.  It’s just…it’s….Slim-Fast.

(Later, after being so freaking hungry that I gave in and drank one.  While holding my nose.  Because it tastes like a strawberry-flavored liquid vitamin, with a hint of butt.)

Me: Those things are seriously nasty.  Also, they’re dirty liars.  I’m still hungry.

Mr Ellie: Oh, it can’t be that bad.  I’ll drink some. *drinks* *pauses, then makes the face a dog makes when you give it peanut butter…you know, a kind of a lip smack while simultaneously curling your lip?* Wow.  That’s something.

Me: Told you.  If it made me feel like something was actually in my stomach, I’d probably just choke it down, but it’s like drinking a cup of coffee.

Mr Ellie: Have some pudding, honey.

My question is, HOW DO PEOPLE LIVE ON THIS?  I’m really not as huge of an eater as my ass suggests (and that’s a post in itself.  I have had more people than I can count comment on what I eat, and discuss it with other people.  Yes, I eat less than my nine year old and I’m still fat.  Get over it.  My ass loves my fat and wants to pet it and keep it and name it George, okay?) but I simply could NOT feel like anything was in my stomach with this stuff.

Have any of y’all tried Slim Fast?  Am I crazy?  How do people live on this shit?  It seems like it would just lead to serious bingeing at night because people have been so fucking hungry all day long, which sort of seems counterintuitive.

Thoughts, FatGrrls?

~Ellie

PS: Mr Ellie, I love you.  You buy me random things because you don’t like the thought of me being hungry and miserable, and even when you buy me diet products, it’s not so that I’ll go on a diet and lose weight.  It’s so I won’t be hungry.

Greyhounds. The truth revealed!

One of the most common reactions I get to Kiba goes along the lines of: “Wow! Do you have to take her out a lot to run off all that energy??”

Here’s your answer:

Zzzz......

ZZzzzz.....

Zzzz....*snort*..zzz...

 

Synchronized Napping a la Canada

Are you gonna sleep ALL day?

After nap time comes...dinner!

And there you have it. The truth is that greyhounds reserve all their daily energy for meal times.

A Little Less Robot Love

If you enjoy geeky pop culture, then I wouldn’t hesitate in recommending a stop by Robot Love in Minneapolis. Whether you like quirky figurines, steet art, or books that are a little off-kilter, this is a good place to hit up should you find yourself in the Twin Cities with time to kill.

I write all these complementary things, but really, I wanted to say: “Robot Love, you let me down this weekend. I saw so many deliciously decorative hoodies, sassy t-shirts, and dazzling belts, but I couldn’t enjoy any of them. They wouldn’t fit me. Not even close. Not by a mile. And even though you don’t design the products in the store, you choose to stock them, and in doing so send a message that chic and geeky are the territory of the thin.”

Not cool.

Sometimes I’m not at all surprised by my preoccupation with thinness. Not. At. All.

Bumble Candy figurine by Julie West

Introducing the Red-Headed Stepchild of the Family

A fat blogger’s dirty secret

We’re all about the dirty secrets here on FatGrrl, so let’s plow right through this one, shall we?

I have a daughter.  I don’t want her to be fat like me.

Every decent parent out there wants better for their children than they themselves had.  They want better living conditions, better experiences for them.  They want more money, more power, mo’ bettah.

I am going to teach my boys and my girl that their body isn’t the definition of who they are or what they’re worth.  Other people’s bodies do not define them.  That being said, I don’t ever want my daughter to go through what I have.  Having strangers comment on her body, people asking if she’s pregnant, total strangers giving her diet tips, doctors that try to shame her, and the ever present her-weight-being-an-acceptable-topic-of-conversation (why do people feel compelled to ask me if I’m losing weight all of the time?  I have lost about 20lbs but it’s been because I’m stressed and upset and not eating.  Thanks, guys, you may think that it’s automatically a great thing if I lose weight because I’m fat, but I’m actually distressed over it because I’m not eating in a healthy way.)

I just don’t want her to have to deal with it.  I don’t want her to make the relationship mistakes I did because I was so desperately seeking validation because I hated my body so much.  I hope that she can see that while I’m not 100% self-confident, I’m to the point where I don’t hate myself anymore, and that I’ve accepted that I’m just fat.  I’m not stupid or lazy or a glutton.  I’m more than the package that I walk around in.

And you are, too.

~Ellie

PS: I’m sorry I’ve sucked so much on the posting, y’all.  I have been in a blogging sahara.  I have been rather meh on life lately, but I’ll try to do better.

Ouchies. I has them.

A few weeks ago I made the unfortunate decision to shovel the walkway and parking lot for my building. How unfortunate? Three weeks of unfortunate back spasms. Three weeks of an unfortunate hobble. Three weeks of unfortunately sore leg muscles and knees as they try to take the workload off my back. Three weeks of asking the Canadian to tie my shoes for me. And three weeks of questionable looks from the dog, because even she has noticed that I don’t lean over to set down her food bowl quite as fast as I used to.

I think what has sucked the most is the pestering little thought that keeps popping up: If I go to the doctor, maybe they will tell me that I have to lose weight if I want to save my back. Then there’s no choice. My doctor said so!

Alas.

Reading: Celebrity gossip. Yum.
Listening: Someone in the office left the classical music station on. Some kind of choral work….
Playing: Mario Party 8 for Wii

Like all good diets, I do my best work on the first day.

Today has been an endless succession of apartment showings. One person called to complain about the muddy snow that got tracked in to her apartment, and a maintenance man made a pointed remark about a sidewalk that wasn’t as clear of snow as everyone else’s sidewalk. More than once today I resisted the urge to tell someone to stick it Right. Up. Their. Ass.

And then I would think of the many, many times Ellie has told one of my numerous annoyances to “eat a bowl of dicks” and it’s hard not to smile. (By the way, Ellie, I got your Christmas card, and  your kids are fucking adorable. You should be ashamed of yourself!)

“Scandinavian Sensibilities” is the key phrase around the house these days as Jeff the Canadian and I try to pare down our belongings from Massive Pile of Crap to Minimal Pile of Interesting Crap. One of the first things we did was pull out a set of dishes (service for 8) that I’ve had for six years. Dinner plates, salad plates, soup bowls, cereal bowls, coffee mugs. We thought, Wouldn’t it be more cozy to have a few really interesting pieces for 2 people, then piles of generic white porcelain for 8? And the answer was, yes! We’ve been hitting up the estate sales lately in the richie-rich suburbs of Minneapolis and I’ve found some really lovely things. It’s like a daily warm-fuzzy reaching in to my cabinet and seeing a small set of mismatched, yet charmingly cohesive, dishes.

I like the warm-fuzzies.

Reading: The Host by Stephenie Meyer
Watching: Law & Order, Season 6
Listening: Placebo mix tapes
Doing: Filing paperwork and vanquishing financial goblins.