Like a Julia Child Croissant

One thing that I think most women in their 20s and 30s can relate to is the friend who shows up out of the blue, sobbing hysterically because she has once again had her heart broken by her not-quite-boyfriend-but-full-on-jerkfriend (For the record, I'm not being judgey here; I think we can also all relate to being that friend at some point of our lives -- my time to shine came in college and lasted a good year or so). You know the drill: they show up randomly, after months of basically disappearing from the planet, SWEARING to really take a stand and stop dating DBs who make them feel like shit about themselves. THIS TIME, they swear, they will not succumb to the power of the jerk. THIS TIME, things will be different. THIS TIME, they will conquer their issues once and for all and finally reach out and claim the happiness that they deserve. And then the next jerk comes calling and the cycle repeats itself all over again.

I thought those days were well behind me, relegating me to the role of Official Pep Talker. Except I've been thinking a lot lately, and while it's easy to roll the ol' eyes at those friends who seem to be in possession of a Jerk Magnet, it turns out I'm just as flaky as they are. Except my boyfriend is named Fat Ass.

 Julia knows ALL ABOUT flaky [Source]

 

 

You see, I really want to break things off with Fat Ass, or Fatty as I prefer to call him, but he's like the boomerang boyfriend from hell. I've tried everything to get rid of him: the old "it's not you, it's me" trick; the "I'm cheating on you with Spinning" speech; hell, I've even tried to wean myself off him gradually through the whole "intuitive eating" schtick (man, was that a bust). Yet every time I start to feel better after dumping his sorry self, he manages to find some way to weasel his way back into my life. He tempts me with a box of gourmet Godiva truffles. He sweet-talks my friends and colleagues into speaking highly of him, coercing me into giving him a second (or third. Or fourth. Or ninetieth) chance. On days like yesterday, when I'm feeling firm in my resolve to ditch his ass once and for all and accept a lovely lunch date for a threesome with Turkey Chili and Side Salad, here comes Fat Ass, bearing Bertucci's and threatening to sabotage my new relationships at every turn.

Seriously, Fat Ass, WHY ARE YOU SO OBSESSED WITH ME?!

[Source]

I know this "weight loss flakiness" is something that a lot of people struggle with. I know it's also a trait that annoys the hell out of some readers. It annoys me to constantly be writing these, "today is the day enough is enough!" posts, only to find myself composing variations on a theme a few weeks, months, hell -- it's been over a year! -- later.

One part of my problem is that I have the attention span of a gnat. I get all amped up to do something, set my goals, pep-talk myself to death and then enact Phase I of The Plan. Weight loss, grad school, race training -- it doesn't matter, I inevitably end up a week or two in to it and suddenly find that something else is more interesting and I want to do that instead. This is why it was just short of a miracle that I actually spent 12 straight weeks committed to the same goal and actually finished the half; some recycling plant floor here in Boston is littered with the remains of countless 5k and 10k training plan efforts I started and abandoned before that.

The other main reason I have trouble really committing to losing weight is actually very simple: it can be totally alienating. Say what you will, but it is my personal experience that, particularly in my age group, the primary means of social interaction occur over food and drink. Sure, there's the old, "soda water and lime" trick, but if you've ever actually tried it, you probably know that one of two things is likely to happen: 1) while you're gettin' fizzed, everyone else is getting buzzed, having a great time and giving you the stabbies because, who knew? drunk people are annoying as all hell; or 2) someone catches onto your little trick, and the next thing you know there is an ACTUAL vodka soda sitting on the table in front of you, not to mention a plate of nachos and queso dip staring you down from 2 chairs away. Peer pressure is real, yo.

[Source]

Given that I'm a child of the 80s and have seen enough "Just Say No" commercials to make even my DARE officer cringe, it seems like it would be easy enough to say, "I'll just stay home and/or stick to my guns with my water and iceberg lettuce." But for someone who spent over a year hiding in a dorm room to avoid dealing with people and literally breaking into cold sweats at the thought of answering a phone call, the prospect of giving up what social life I do have is terrifying. I've come a long way with dealing with my issues, but that doesn't mean they aren't still there each and every day.

And so, much like my dirtbag-detector-challenged friends, I continue to perpetuate this dysfunctional relationship with Fat Ass and engage in a warped unhealthy cycle of shame. 

As of Tuesday, November 1st, I am yet again actively working to end this relationship with Fat Ass. I'm not going to say "once and for all" this time because I know myself, and I know that as soon as I put a really high expectation on it, I'm going to feel all antsy and obligated and decide that now is actually the perfect time to take up underwater basket-weaving, so I should really be devoting all of my attention to that, instead.

I'm not following any specific "plan", per se, but more melding the thousands of tips and techniques I've picked up over the 20 years that I've been struggling with weight. There are a few plans I've been borrowing from more than others; that's another post for another day. I've been tracking all of my calories, including  the 9 miniature snickers on Wednesday, without guilt or pressure. I'm mostly eating wholesome, natural foods but let's be real here, I'm never giving up full-fat cheese or eating diet salad dressing again, and I don't think there is a place for absolutes in my diet. I'm still going to drink wine; I just won't be drinking it with a side of TJ's pumpkin ice cream and a slab of kosher smoked gouda when I'm at home. I've worked out each of the last 3 days, and although I could barely move yesterday, I'm happy about it.

So, that's that. I probably won't update toooo much on this endeavor, because like I said, it's nothing particularly earth-shattering and I'm sure you're all sick of hearing I've dumped Fat Ass on his, well... Fat Ass again. So, I'll try to keep the weighty subjects to a minimum and write about more important things, like Chuck Bass and my list of HGCs. And with any luck, I will one day introduce you all to my newest interest:

Hard Ass.

Friday Confessional: Sugar and Spice

I was originally planning to share the deets of why my blissful vacation on the Vineyard turned into a chaotic, mournful and ultimately bonding experience, but then I realized that it's not really my story to tell, and so I shan't. Suffice to say, I had three glorious days on Martha's Vineyard with my aunts and uncles, including two glorious beach days, and my boss promised that I can take a few extra vacation days this summer to make up for the part I missed. I might take a little venture to the Texas part of America in August to visit one of my bffs, CRo, and to attend a CERTAIN little princess' very first birthday party!

Anyway....


Ok, let's cut to the chase. It's Friday. On Fridays, we wear pink confess our deepest, darkest, most embarrassing thoughts, obsessions and musings. 

So, without further ado, I do hereby solemnly confess:

I've got a case of the HGCs.

I remember one night during the second semester of my junior year of college (a feat in and of itself, actually), sitting on a fraternity futon with a bunch of my sorority sisters and pregaming for the evening's events (random factoid for you GDIs: you actually aren't allowed to drink in a sorority house. In some states, it's because a house with a certain amount of women living in it and with booze available is considered a brothel. But really, we just like to keep our floors from getting sticky. That's why God invented fraternities) . As we sat there, giggling about girl stuff and driving the boys men of PMD crazy, the tv was blaring in the background. When our generous host for the evening remarked on how hot the Pussycat Dolls were ("Dontcha" had just come out. I know, I know. I'm old.), one of my friends began to nod vigorously in agreement. "Totally," she squealed, "Nicole Scherzinger is totally my  heterosexual girl crush!" It was a term I'd never heard before.

And I loved it.

These days, it seems like there's girl-on-girl hatred everywhere. There are so many awe-inspiring women out there in the world, and instead of focusing on them and building ourselves up to be like them, we'd rather rip through US Weekly and cattily trash the latest Bachelorette or Britney's weave. Why is that?!? Especially since you know that we ALL have ladies that we admire, whether it be for their rad writing skillz, their ability to bounce back from criticism or their hair color.

And so, I now present to you the first installment of my very own, heterosexual girl crushes:


Katy Perry

[Source]

There are a lot of reasons why I love Katy Perry, but the most important one is that she is hilarious on Twitter. And I assume she swears like a sailor, so there's that, too. Oh, and she's gorgeous. It seems fitting that she kick off this list of HGCs, too, as we all know that one time, she kissed a girl (and she liked it!).

Jen Lancaster

[Source]

I can't even begin to describe the amount of laughter that JLan has brought me at inappropriate times, but suffice to say that no one else has ever made me almost pee my pants on a city bus. I kind of assume that if I were ever to run into her on the street, I would say something horribly awkward and stupid, which she would totally understand and laugh off, and then we would both blow off food shopping to go indulge in Scorpion Bowls and heckle innocent passersby and become BFF4Ls. Seriously, though, if you haven't read Bitter is the New Black or Such a Pretty Fat, haul your ass to the nearest Barnes and Noble... RUN, don't walk. Then you, too, can partake in mine and Katie's drunk-text-love-fest for this fantastic, hilarious writer.


Kate Middleton

[Source]

Two words: The. Hair.

Amy Adams

[Source]

My HGC on Amy began with Julie and Julia. Her portrayal of a frustrated administrative assistant-cum-blogger really drew me in and made me relate to the character of Julie in a way I wasn't expecting. I'd blogged back in the day (Come on; who DIDN'T have an LJ and or Xanga?), but J&J was a driving force behind the creation of this little experiment you're reading. Of course, I also loved her in Leap Year (So cute!) and if you try to say you didn't love her just a little bit more after the scene in The Fighter when she takes on all of the Ward sisters on the porch, you're a liar. Plus, Girlfran can SING, too!

Kirstie Alley

Given that it's still my second-most popular post to date, I think we all know this fact: Kirstie is mah' GIRL. She's got sass, style and spunk -- all traits that I greatly admire. Whenever I think of the phrase, "haters gon' hate," I think of all the nastiness she had to endure during her time on DWTS, how much that had to have hurt and, most importantly, how she said to hell with all of those critics and did her best to prove them wrong each and every week. Despite a few stumbles here or there in her life and career, she always manages to pull herself back up, dust herself off and throw herself 110% back into the game. I dig that.


Michelle Obama

[Source]

I purposely avoid politics on the blog, but for Michelle, I shall make an exception. First of all, she's Princeton (and Harvard, but who cares) educated. It's a little-known fact, but there was a time in my life when I was courted by Princeton and my ultimate academic goal was to get in there. Sure, it might have been in 8th grade, but the fact remains that they once wanted me, and I still look really good in orange. Her education aside, Michelle is SO DAMN STRONG -- and I'm not just referring to her killer pipes, either. I agree that childhood obesity is a major issue in this country, I love that she grew a garden at the White House, and regardless of your political beliefs, she's providing support to the leader of the free world. That's impressive.

Anne of Green Gables

[Source

Ok, so she's fictional. Big deal. I've already professed my love for a bunch of literary hunks, so I see no problem in the fact that I have a bit of tiny massive HGC on Ms. Anne-with-an-E Shirley of Green Gables, Avonlea, both the literary and cinematic versions. If you couldn't tell from the quotation at the top of the page, I have a lot in common with Anne. We're both gingers. We both possess a limited verbal filter. We both enjoy dramatic interpretations of Tennyson's "The Lady of Shalott". And we both really, really enjoy getting our friends accidentally drunk on raspberry cordial. We're truly kindred spirits and, were she real, I imagine we would be bosom friends.

So, there you have it. Of course, I have many more HGCs -- at LEAST enough famous ones to fill up another post. Plus, there are my HGC bloggers, and my IRL HGC friends and acquaintances. So now I urge you, readers, to contemplate your own Girl Crushes (the H is optional; I happen to like dudes but whatever floats your boat!). Let the Lady Love flow!


So, tell me: Who are YOUR girl crushes?? Why??