We always hear about the obesity epidemic in America: It’s a major issue! People are dying! Fat people are evil! While it’s true that being overweight can lead to serious health problems, it is not true that being overweight automatically means being unhealthy.

Which explains the new “Fat Acceptance” movement that is spreading across the country. Activists and supporters of this movement are screaming from the rooftops that being fat is OK, and as long as people are making good choices to support a healthy lifestyle it should not matter what size pants they wear.

And I totally concur. I cannot tell you how sick I am of salads, fad diets and feeling guilty when I want a Potbelly Oreo Shake so badly I could punch someone. So, you know what? I’m joining this movement and I urge you to do the same. Stop kicking yourself for enjoying a hot dog at your football tailgate. Stop crying after a late night pizza binge.

Put down that carrot and join me in embracing ourselves, no matter what size we are. And what is the best way to do that? By enjoying some of life’s most delectable treats. Come on, it’s OK; fat is in! Read More »

I find myself sitting in a squishy rolly contraption that resembles more of a throne than an office desk chair, but I’m feeling far from royal. First day at this internship, and I’m already wondering what the hell I was thinking signing up for such summer suicide.

Granted, for someone on the outside looking in, I had it made, and I’ll even admit I was super psyched when I first got the internship. Who wouldn’t want to work for a famous three-letter music television channel? As a silly little girl from Maryland whose favorite pastimes included uh, watching tumbleweeds blow and working at the local Dairy Queen (stop laughing), this internship was huge.

Having just finished my first year of college, (and mind you, worked my ass off) I was finally going to live in the big city free of parents, midterms, and tumbleweeds.

But now, here I was, first day and I already wanted to run back to mommy and maybe dip a cone or two. It was only eleven AM and my feet ached from running all over Manhattan fetching scones from this coffee shop and soy milk lattes from that café. I looked down at my Jessica Simpson gold pumps (on sale via Macy’s) which no longer seemed so posh next to the other intern’s (Sasha? Or maybe it was Sara’s?) Manolo Blahniks. Read More »