Super Skinny Me

While getting a new year's pedicure this afternoon (and avoiding cleaning my room), I read a magazine article about this BBC program called "Super Skinny Me" in which two British journalists decided to try crash diets (like "the soup diet" or "the protein only diet") with the aim of getting down to a size zero.

I fired up the telly this evening (after cleaning up a little bit in my room AND cooking up a pot of Rachael Ray's "Black Bean Stoup") and found the program On Demand through BBC America. It was fascinating. Even more interesting, in a way, were the online responses and blog comments I found that referenced the show. One of my favorites, if only for its insanity, was from a man named "Wil" who wrote, "I'd rather have sex with a woman I cut myself on than one who smothered me...or made me vomit with disgust." Someone calling themselves "urajudgementalpr*ck" responded to Wil with, "Somehow Wil I doubt that either is lining up at your door" (see the original blog post here).

It's really interesting how enraged this subject makes people, and how the two women in the show both saw themselves going insane in terms of trying to control their own bodies and minds via food intake.

Check out Kate Spicer's (one of the two women who went through the experiment) article about her experiences here.

The program is part of a series called "BBC Reveals." Now I'm hooked. I have to watch all of them.

New Year's Resolutions

Actually, these are just for this month, but I think that's how these things go, anyway.

1) Clean my house.

2) Consolidate my belongings.

3) Find an apartment.

Happy new year!

Hours of Entertainment

This is the cutest thing EVER. I just want to squish John-John's little face off.

Go on YouTube and type in "Classic Sesame Street."

You will not be disappointed.

Random Question

OK, why is it that on regular work days, even when I get up right when my alarm goes off, I am ALWAYS running late, but then on days like today, when I have a little leeway in my schedule, and I even let myself sleep in a bit, and take an extra long shower, I have plenty of extra time to do things like put on makeup, check my email, mess around with my iTunes, and write this blog post???

Not Celebrity Obsessed

Photo credit dlisted.com

Okay, I am, just a little bit. So what if I read Dlisted every day? It is a worthy news source. How else would I have found out that Jamie Lynn Spears is pregnant?

I guess it should come as no surprise that Brit-Brit's 16-year-old sister is knocked up, but it would be nice if someone in that family got an ounce of sense. I mean, how difficult is it to NOT get pregnant? She knows how to go to the drug store and buy a pregnancy test, but not how to get on birth control? Puh-leeze.

Part of my celeb obsession can be traced to my friends, but I think another part of it is that my job requires me to be patient, understanding, and mature at all times. I can't be mean to anyone, even if I think they deserve it. So watching celebs eff up their lives, and having the liberty to say snarky things about them, is a good outlet for my mean streak.

Bring it on, Spearses. Bring it on.

Chinese Ancestors

Just a shout out to the parking gods -- came home at 11:00 on a Saturday night and snagged a spot right in front of the house. I heard there are something like 500 fewer parking spots than there are cars in San Francisco, so this was a huge deal.

There have even been cases of people getting killed trying to save parking spots, or attacking meter maids (or men) for getting a parking ticket.

It's vicious out there. Anyone who has ever been to SF has a parking horror story. In all my years here, I've been extremely lucky. I'm super anal about driving and parking safely here, so I've only gotten one parking ticket (knock wood). I had one infamous former roommate who got at least two a month, and even somehow managed to get a ticket after she had sold her car and moved out of the country.

I have a secret weapon for finding parking that was passed on to me from a good friend. I share it sparingly and hold it in great reverence.

Speaking of Chinese Ancestors, take a look at this.

Thirty, Flirty, and Fabulous?

Thirty is looming on the horizon. I can see it not far up the road, sharpening its fangs. They say 30 is the new 20, but I'm not sure about that one. True, a lot of my friends are doing the things in their thirties that women of previous generations were doing in their twenties (figuring out their careers, buying homes, getting married, having kids, blah blah blah), but it's not exactly the same.

First of all, telling ourselves that "thirty is the new twenty" as we see actual twentysomethings roaming around us with their exuberant grins makes it even more depressing. Also, some of us aren't going to be doing the things that our friends are doing in their thirties until we're in our forties...or maybe not even then.

And so what? It's hard not too keep a tally of all our perceived imperfections, especially if we compare ourselves to people we know, but it rarely does us any favors. If anything, it just shows us how different we all are, even though we come from the same generation, hometown, college, or community.

Maybe I'm just trying to be optimistic as the beast waves menacingly at me, but who knows? Maybe it's hiding a red balloon behind its back for me, and all it needs is a nice massage and a cocktail to make it less monstrous.