Friday, June 13, 2008

ABBA is Gay!

Tonight, YG, the MG, SKB and I are going to this.

From the website:
extrABBAganza!The Boston Gay Men’s Chorus sings the ultimate tribute show to ABBA, the top selling musical act of the 70s. With over 370 million albums sold worldwide, ABBA’s hits embody the decade with some of the catchiest pop tunes ever written including Fernando, Take A Chance on Me, Mamma Mia, Waterloo, Voulez Vous, Thank You for the Music and many more! Their irresistible music is both a time machine back to the glitter and glam of the 70s and a jukebox bursting with today’s retro-chic classics. And only a gay chorus can unlock the secrets of some of ABBA’s greatest hits: Does Your Mother Know, Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight), and of course, Dancing Queen.

OMG! I can't wait.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Am I Seriously Defending Carnie Wilson? Maybe A Little.

There's been a lot of posting on sites I read about Carnie Wilson's appearance on the Tyra Banks show, discussing how people focus too much on her weight. For those living under a rock, Carnie Wilson was the "fat chick" in terrible early 90s group Wilson Phillips who later broadcast her gastric bypass surgery on the Internet. She got lots of praise for this from serious magazines like People and US Weekly and then did a spread in Playboy. And now she's gaining it back and NOW, she's pissed that people are paying attention to her weight. [But she wasn't pissed during the broadcasting part or the magazine spreads part or the centerfold part.]

My intial reaction, right after "who gives a fuck about Carnie Wilson" was to say, "you decided to be very public about your decision to lose weight. Of course Hollywood is going to pay attention. Hollywood, duh, pays attention to EVERYBODY'S WEIGHT." And then I thought about it and was able to muster up some symphathy for her, because it has to suck to deal with that noise so publicly.

When you're fat (or even mildly overweight), you spend a lot of time thinking that losing weight is the magic bullet -- once you accomplish it, everyone is going to love you and magically, all your problems will just melt away. And when you actually lose the weight and everyone compliments you, it's this crazy high. You've just discovered the SECRET TO HAPPINESS. By yourself. You get cocky. You evangelize. You scoff at people that don't get it.

And then it starts coming back. First one pound. And then another. And then some more. You pray that people don't notice, but you know they do. They noticed when you lost the weight -- of course, they'd notice it coming back. The shame is unbearable. The failure is overwhelming. Made more so by the fact that you don't talk about this with anyone. Because to talk about it would be to acknowledge your failure, to make it public. And you're still secretly hoping that nobody notices. Or better, that nobody cares.

That was my experience, anyway. I was never that heavy (even though, in my head, I've always assumed that I was enormous and that people don't see me, just "plump person."). But I was always dieting. Always. I started restricting my food in middle school and I kept that up until last October. That's 21 years, people. Twenty one fucking years. I lost a large amount of weight about 6 years ago, getting ready for my first wedding. I started Weight Watchers at 180lbs and set a goal weight of 140 lbs. Twice, I got to 143. Twice, within 3 pounds. And then I'd gain it back. Always. It was unbearable. Until last year when I just decided to fuck it. I stopped dieting. I haven't lost any weight. I haven't gained any weight. I'm just kind of the same.

I'm still trying to get used to that. Just being here. I am insanely greatful to not be dieting. But I'm still not entirely comfortable looking the way I do. Progress, not perfection, right? I'll get there. I run, I bike, I eat REAL FOOD. I'll get there.

So what the hell does this have to do with Carnie Wilson? Not much, I guess. I feel sorry for her. She's famous, and she's right -- people are paying attention to her weight. It was hard enough for me to go through the ups and downs as a nobody. I'm sure that many people, not even my closest friends, knew how shitty I felt. She has to deal with that and she has to do it in the public eye. That blows. Yeah, she brought a lot of it on herself by broadcasting that surgery on the web, but at a base level, I do understand why she did it.

The Shapely Prose folks had something brilliant to say about this as well.

The World Is A Very Small Place

Tonight, YG and I went to this event at Harvard Book Store. I had heard about Kelly McMasters' book, "Welcome to Shirley: A Memoir from an Atomic Town" and was immediately intrigued because my family has spent every summer in Shirley since my dad was a kid. And nobody ever knows of Shirley, and if they do, their impressions are never favorable. People always assume that our house is in the Hamptons because that's the only thing they know about Long Island, and when they visit Shirley and our house, I usually get a lot of "oh, I didn't know it was working class." As if that's always a bad thing.

I saw the ad for the event on Bostonist so we decided to go. We listened to the reading and then I spent some time chatting with the author after. I told her about our house and where we lived, and she said, "Oh, I used to have friends on that street." I asked who, and she answered, "The Posts." Seriously, dudes. My freakin' next door neighbors. And my best girl friend in the world when I was a little kid. So, so random. I also used to go with the Posts to Vacation Bible Camp at Grace Lutheran Church, where Kelly McMasters said she spent a lot of time. We figured that we were probably there at the same time. Proper use of the word "random" here. What are the chances that I'd run into someone from Shirley way up here, far away from home? It was one of those great "small world" moments.

It also made me realize that someone else wrote the memoir about Shirley first. :-) Oh, Shirley. With the beach and riding bikes all day in shorts and flip flops and buying Slurpees at 7-11 and fruit salads at Carvel. And fishing and camping and man hunt and the playground at the bay. We're going in 3 weeks. I can't wait.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Too Hot to Think

So I'll just go watch American Gladiators instead.

Shit to mention:
* Went to NJ this weekend where it was also hot, hot, hot. Had a family birthday party and oh my god, I miss good sausage and peppers.

* Watched the Hillary speech on Saturday. Best I've ever seen her. Still wish that the HRC as VP chants would die down. Not a good idea. Nor is Jim Webb. Call me, people. I have ideas.

* Listened to the new Death Cab for Cutie album. It sounds a lot like the last one. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it was a little meh.

* Hating on Rebecca Walker. Her latest bitch in the Daily Mail is so spiteful and self-indulgent. So you think you had a crappy mom? Okay, maybe. But feminism didn't make her a crappy mother.

* Running. Now that I have the 5-mile down, I am going to do Race for the Cure again and hopefully the Tufts Health Plan 10K for Women in October. I'm pretty sure I can get that extra mile.

* Watching the Celtics! Woo hoo! It is nice to have a local team to support. Yes, I know that there are the Patriots, but I don't care about football, and it will be a cold day in Hell when I support the Red Sox. So go Celtics. Beat LA. Beat Kobe Byrant in the groin with an Incredible Hulk fist.

* Trying not to let the Evil Cameltoe bother me. As usual. I AM the bigger person. I will refrain from making snide comments about hairsprayed bangs and frosted lipstick in the blogosphere. Because I am MATURE.

* Laughing over the latest teen star to pledge virginity until marriage. She wants a promise ring. I wonder if you get a different ring if you pledge your butt virginity.

* Mouth agape over Bill Clinton and Gina Gershon. I am seriously behind in my celebrity news. How did I miss this? What does this dude have? Seriously. Gina Gershon -- I'd tap that.

As you can see, my mind is blank.