I’ve got to get this out. Joy Bauer pisses me the f*ck off.

For those of you who have saved yourself by not knowing who this lady is, I’m about to ruin you — Joy Bauer is the nutritionist correspondent for the Today Show. She’s also published a ton of books and written about eating your veggies for a bunch of publications. Basically, she’s the Martha Stewart of the health world.

So why do I hate her? Because she’s systematically trying to destroy my happy relationship with food.

Every time I turn on the Today Show (read: while I’m on the elliptical at the ass crack of dawn or getting ready to brave the day) Bauer seems to be running her mouth about all the fantastic! and easy! ways for Americans to lose weight. As she gestures with her skinny arms (I want to know if this lady has ever lived a day over 115 pounds) to bad foods! and their subsequent good food! counterparts, I can’t help but want to shake that way-too-wide grin off her face.

Because she wouldn’t be so happy if she was actually taking all of her grey, lifeless advice.

Her recent “4 Weeks to a Better Body” segment illustrates exactly what I’m taking about. Her advice to get thin in 4 weeks? Basically: make your life so boring food wise the pounds will drop off your body in pity.

Some example “tips”:

1) keep only one or two snack items in the house

One or two snack items? Who the hell enjoys eating the same damn thing over and over again? Even peanut butter filled pretzel bites lose their appeal if they’re my only “snack” source for an extended period of time. This method is sure to make me start hating foods I once loved. Read More »

I did my usual perusing of NYMag.com a few days ago to find America’s Next Top Model on the homepage, with a picture of some beautiful girl and the headline that “Miss Tyra threw a curveball” by selecting the first-ever plus-sized model to win. I haven’t seen the show in many a season, because Tyra Banks continued to be Tyra Banks and you can only see a marathon so many times, but needless to say, I was intrigued.

I frowned and scrolled back up to the picture. Hm. Come to think of it, her legs don’t look like they could be snapped in two by a twelve-year-old. But plus-sized? She didn’t really look plus-sized. I was perplexed. The consistent theory was that this “oversized” model was picked from the beginning as part of Tyra’s personal agenda to make reality TV history. Or something. Making a point that you don’t have to be skinny to be pretty.

It’s a great message, it is. Except this Whitney character really isn’t not skinny. But in the context of an industry full of waifs, she instantly becomes the fat girl. It’s like picking the hottest guy in a classroom only to find that he’s less attractive on the street among other civilians; you can’t base your judgment of a person in the confines of one element. Read More »

Well, I knew when I started this diet that I would hit a slump. I just didn’t expect it to be so early.

The scale in my room is excessively kind and flattering, and tends to give me a weight that is about ten pounds off. Now, I knew this, but I was never very good at reading the little notches. I assume my consistent 227 was right; however, at a recent visit to Health Services, I decided to check my weight on their scale. The result was not encouraging.

230 is more than I ever wanted to weigh. 230 is something like a hundred pounds heavier than the “recommended” weight for women my age and height, and though I don’t really have any interest in being the recommended weight, I don’t want to be gaining weight. To say I was upset was an understatement. Of course, being upset, I decided to do what any hormonal, depressed college female would do: eat chocolate. Read More »

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Yesterday I was having a lovely day with my boyfriend. We ate pancakes for breakfast. We went for a walk around our neighborhood. We talked dreamily about the future the way you do on a sunny Saturday morning.

And then, out of no where, the conversation turned sour.

I don’t remember how we got there, but for some incomprehensible reason, the conversation led him to say this:

BOYFRIEND: Well, you do have a little tummy.

He unwisely pats my tummy.

ME: (turning into a shrieking monster) WHAT?!

BOYFRIEND: No, I love it! It’s cute!

ME: IT’S CUTE THAT I’M FAT?!

BOYFRIEND: No! No, that’s not what I meant! It’s just that you’re getting older–

ME: WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!??!!??!! Read More »

Though we all pretend it will never happen to us, some college students do end up in a (or many) serious relationship at some point during their college career.

It happens when we least expect it; we will be scouring the bar for another nameless drunkard to take back to our dilapidated rooms, when, Bam! We find someone we may actually like.

So, we take them back to our dilapidated room (stopping them at the door so we can tidy up a bit) and the rest is a magical history. The numbers are exchanged in the morning, and we can’t wait to call in order to see him/her again. Next thing you know, this one-night-stand turns into one-big-relationship and your days as a late-night-slut are over.

Suddenly, you are wandering aimlessly through campus thinking about that cute thing he/she said, or getting all hot and bothered during class imagining the things you could do to him/her with a pair of handcuffs and some chocolate sauce. You can’t eat/sleep/study/change your socks without yearning to be doing it with that special someone.

It’s called the Honeymoon Period, my friends, and it is one of the best times in any relationship. The exact time frame ranges from relationship to relationship, but, from what I’ve seen, it averages from about six and a half minutes to six and a half weeks. This is a time of pure bliss – one where neither of you can do anything wrong. Read More »

Sometimes, words can hurt almost as much as punches or slaps.

At the beginning of freshman year, I started going out with a great guy. He was cute, smart, and (most importantly) had a fantastic sense of humor. The only problem was, the object of most of his jokes seemed to be me.

“Come on, Fatty,” he would coax along as we were climbing the stairs, or “Way to finish that whole pastry. You’re a whale.”

He said all of these things in a clearly joking tone, so I and those around us would realize he wasn’t being serious. But he also said them nearly every day, and we went out for almost a full year.

Here’s the thing. I am not now, nor have I ever been, overweight. I’m not rail-thin, either, but nobody except maybe Heidi Klum’s manager could call me anything bigger than average. I’ve been almost immune to peer pressure all my life, and I never questioned the way my body looked until my boyfriend started saying things about how fat I was. Read More »

Whatever you do, do not not NOT go out to a Mexican restaurant if you decide to do The Detox Diet.Toward the end of my mostly uneventful week 2, I met with a friend for dinner and went with every intention of eating plain chicken and lots of vegetables. But as someone who hates lettuce (really, it can’t possibly be food), I was tempted by grilled chicken with pineapple salsa.

The menu didn’t tell me that the meal would come with rice, beans, and vegetables and enough of it to serve three people, but it’s also my fault for not asking what exactly my meal would be comprised of.

Also, I was totally weak so when my friend ordered guacamole, I had to try some, especially she after insisted that it was the best in New York City. And I can’t say that I’ve sampled Mexican across Manhattan, but it was really damn good.

But not nearly good enough to deal with what followed. Read More »