Disclosure: I received an advanced copy of this book to review for free. I also have the same literary agent as the author, whose name I will guard with the ferocity of a mother lioness. ROAR! So don’t ask. I ain’t telling.

I related a lot to author Kim Brittingham as I read her new book, Read My Hips: How I Learned to Love My Body, Ditch Dieting, and Live Large. We both moved a lot as kids. We both had frizzy unmanageable hair that I have only recently learned how to tame. We both thought we might be having a heart attack at 23. We both have old “fat” photos from our teen years in which we don’t appear fat at all. And after weight loss and weight gain we’re both at places where we’re basically cool with our bodies. (Well, cool with the weight thing, anyway. I have numerous complaints about the chronic headache, crooked teeth, bad vision, flat fleet, five wisdom teeth, etc., etc.)

You might have heard of Kim after she got some media attention for riding the New York transit system while reading a book with a fake cover called “Fat is Contagious: How Sitting Next to a Fat Person Can Make YOU Fat.” (View a Today Show video interview here.) Each chapter in Kim’s book could probably stand on its own as an essay or narrative short story, but they’re linked together with the common theme of the book. That theme is Kim’s shifting attitude about her weight throughout life, detailing the sadly all too common stories of body self-loathing in her younger years to how she came to a place of self-acceptance in her 30′s and 40′s.

The most fascinating chapter describes her experience working as a weight-loss counselor for a company called Edie JeJeune. (I think this is a pseudonym to protect the innocent and the guilty since Google couldn’t turn up anything on it.) The company sold people diet plans that required pre-packaged foods and encouraged clients to buy motivational audio tapes. Most people know that the weight-loss industry exists to make money, but it was eye-opening to see how sales-oriented Kim’s managers were. The cutthroat atmosphere and pressure to meet sales goals at the price of compromising your morals sounds eerily similar to stories I’ve heard from friends with other sales jobs. This is frightening to contemplate since selling someone a new bathtub doesn’t affect their health like selling a diet plan could (unless they slip, fall and break a hip, I guess). The emphasis wasn’t on helping people either, just meeting sales goals. The counselors weren’t required to have any kind of certifications or degrees, and some were secretly binging on the foods in the warehouse, making the whole debacle seem like a case of the blind leading the blind.

On the positive side, Kim gives a speech during a work seminar that urges people to go for what they want now instead of waiting for something else first (like losing weight) that was so inspirational two of her co-workers decided to quit that day. Sounds like she could have a career as a motivational speaker if the writing thing doesn’t pan out.

The other chapters cover topics such as the fat prejudice she was subjected to from a PR company that represented a line of plus-sized clothes, the fat-person stereotypes she had to fight while filming a video with a major media corporation, and enough stories about the New York public transportation system to make me never want to ride the subway again.

Kim was kind enough to take the time to answer a few questions I had after finishing her book.

One idea you stress in the book is that you shouldn’t wait until you’re thin to do things, that you should “Be. Do. Have.” instead of “Do. Have. Be.” That’s a philosophy I believe in too, but sometimes I find myself slipping into old thought patterns, like recently thinking that I should wait to take a martial arts class until I’ve lost some weight. Do you ever find yourself slipping into old patterns like this and if so what do you do about it?

Sure, I notice it happening all the time. I think it’s like anything else, it takes practice to change. The more you stop and recognize your old patterns and interrupt them, the easier it gets. For myself, I find I notice those patterns more readily now than I ever did before. It’s not as easy for negative self-talk to worm its way in and take hold. At one point I was frustrated and asking myself, “Well how the heck do I remember to remember to not have these thoughts?” I think it takes more than a single decision sometimes, and more effort than reading one good self-help book. You need to seek out multiple resources. Several books. Podcasts and videos, workshops. Reinforce those lessons for yourself in a variety of ways, then it becomes more second-nature.

Early in the book you talk about Glory Davis, a girl at school who lost weight over the summer. You try to get her to reveal the secret of her transformation, but she doesn’t seem to understand what you want and acts nonchalant about the change. It was at this point in the book that I thought you were going to reveal that you later discovered Glory Davis had an eating disorder. That doesn’t happen though, and it made me do some uncomfortable self-reflection on why I would assume that. Did you ever wonder if Glory had an eating disorder? Whether you did or not, do you have any thoughts on what it means about our culture that my mind immediately jumped to that conclusion?

You know, that’s an interesting point. No, it never occurred to me that Glory had an eating disorder. When she returned to school thinner, she had also blossomed in other ways. She had a self-assurance about her that transcended mere weight loss. It was like she’d discovered who she was. And I never saw any signs that her relationship with food itself had changed. She was always very much at ease with food, which is never the case with an eating disordered person. There’s always a tension. Guilt, resistance, desperation, uneasiness. All kinds of thinking about the food. Glory just seemed more interested in…well, boys than food, to be frank! And before she lost the weight, I never saw her overeat. So maybe for Glory, her chubbiness was a classic case of baby fat that sheds itself in good time. I remember a lot of kids like that, which is one reason I’m really disturbed by this growing trend of casting a floodlight on fat kids and stigmatizing them. From Michelle Obama framing her Let’s Move campaign as a fight against childhood obesity instead of a campaign in favor or healthy habits for children of ALL sizes, to billboards in Georgia making fat kids out to be freaks and their parents in denial. It’s going to cause a lot of damage to kids who would otherwise be fine without this holier-than-thou societal “intervention,” and we certainly won’t embarrass or shame any child into eating better and exercising more. If anything, we’ll accomplish the opposite. We’ll isolate fat children even more from their peers, and they’ll likely seek comfort in the one friend who’s always there: food. That is, if they don’t discover drugs first.

But I’m getting way off topic here, aren’t I? The fact that your mind jumped to that conclusion about Glory might say something about our cultural beliefs, I don’t know. We do cherish our preconceived notions about people and weight in this country, don’t we? Fat people are portrayed as unlovable, antisocial gluttons, whose greed must be condemned. Women who are rail-thin are assumed to be anorexics or purgers. Weight loss itself is always assumed to have been orchestrated on purpose and is uniformly praised. I remember seeing Tyra Banks’ show one day in the laundromat, and a guest mentioned she’d recently lost X number of pounds. The audience immediately took that as a cue to applaud. And I remember thinking, what if she fucking has CANCER, for God’s sake?

You recount a story about Marilyn Monroe in the book and how she could change from being almost invisible in a crowd to being the subject of attention simply by changing her body language and attitude. You have similar success attracting people to you by exuding an aura of confidence, though you admit it is hard to keep up all the time because it’s not 100% natural. Do you have any advice for other women on how they can try to access their inner Marilyn?

Well, it might be that we all have to be clumsy about it in the beginning. Like learning to ride a bike; like me when I first learned to carry myself with confidence. I could only sustain it for so long before it felt exhausting to me. Because it was unfamiliar. It felt like an effort, almost like an act. But after a while, if your experience mirrors mine, you’ll start to recognize who you really are, and you’ll fall into your own natural “strut,” so to speak. You won’t have to live every day of your life like you’re portraying a woman with better self-esteem than your own. You’ll simply have found your stronger self. Also, it’s not your job to put on an air of fabulousness if you’re feeling angry, frustrated, or otherwise unhappy. But giving yourself a chance to find your own inner Marilyn will help you find more presence when you’re in a shitty place, too. You and your feelings have every right to their space. You’re just as entitled as anyone else to every last inch you need.

You got a lot of attention for reading a book on public transportation with a fake book cover called “Fat is Contagious: How Sitting Next to a Fat Person Can Make YOU Fat.” Did you ever considering using that title for you book instead of “Read My Hips” to see if it’d generate more sales, since as you say body-loathing seems to be more popular than body-acceptance?

I did. Not from a sales-generating perspective, but I did shop my book to publishers as “Fat is Contagious.” But Random House suggested “Read My Hips,” which was the title of an essay I’d written for iVillage, and which wound up being a big part of the book’s introduction. It really seemed to fit — no pun intended. Much more so than “Fat is Contagious.” Because with “Read My Hips,” you really are reading my hips — everything that went into the creation of my hips. Everything I did to try and fight my hips and eventually accept them, along with every other part of me.

In the bio sent with the book it says you dream of “finding an affordable fencing school.” Have you taken up fencing like Inigo Montoya like you mentioned thinking of doing in the book? My brother started fencing in the past year and says they never have enough girls. He’d be happy to recruit you!

No, I haven’t taken up fencing and I’m heartbroken about it! The cruel truth is, there’s an excellent fencing school just fifteen minutes from my home, and they even have female instructors over 40, which I think is so cool. But their fees are well out of my league. Someone told me I shouldn’t be surprised, that fencing is one of those sports of the wealthy, like polo. Gee, I didn’t know! I did get a Wii gaming system, though, and my friend Peter gave me a Wii light saber for Christmas. It’s not quite the same thing, of course. You don’t get to perfect all that crisp footwork, and you don’t develop the same defensive instincts you would in working with a real person. But it’ll have to do for this pauper, for now. My pen will be my sword!

You can catch up with Kim on her site KimWrites.com and read her blog here. She can also watch her video series, Kim Weighs In. Watch the book trailer for Read My Hips below.

There is a part of me that wishes I could lose 50 pounds before the FitBloggin’ conference in two weeks. I can’t deny that. I’m not as thin as I used to be, but I’m not as fat as I used to be either. I could get into all the reasons for that, blah, blah, blah, excuses, defensiveness, marshmallows. But that’s not really important. What’s important is that I’m going anyway.

One of the things I learned from my weight loss is that your body isn’t holding you back in all the ways you think it is. Most of the problems you had before you lose weight will still be there after you lose weight unless you do work on your inner self as well as your outer self. And while the fat me from 6 years ago (dear me, has it been 6 years?) probably would have been too self-conscious to attend a conference all about health and fitness, the less-fat-but-still-undeniably-fat me of today shall not only be attending, but presenting too. ( I should really start putting together my presentation, shouldn’t I?)

It’s not your fat that holds you back, it’s you. And I’m not going to hold myself back, because I’d really like to see all my friends who will be attending. Shauna is flying in from Scotland! Roni is running the whole darn thing and raising a newborn! I’ll get to meet Rebecca in person after working on her web sites for months! And all these lovely people will be there too, some who I do know and many who I don’t.

So, yes, I will be there. And there will be more of me there than there would have been two or three years ago. If you’re going to be fat at FitBloggin’ too, don’t worry. I’ve got your back, and I’ve got your back fat too. See you there!

My neurologist told me to lose weight and I thought, “So, it has come to this, has it?” The last time a doctor told me to lose weight, I weighed about 350 pounds and was preparing to have my gallbladder removed. To make the day even more perfect, the neurologist’s nurse had weighed me on one of those old scales with big metal counterweights that slide left to right. I thought the digital revolution had rid us of those scales and the drawn out torture of watching the nurse politely start at a lower number and then slide, slide, slide, slide you up to a much bigger number.

I know people have various reactions to a doctor telling them they’re fat, but my first thought was, “Yeah, of course I need to lose weight.” Let us not forget the pant-splitting incident in January precipitated by the 50-pounds of headache weight gain (which I actually had forgotten until I was searching the archives for something else and found that entry). And losing weight has been on my mind for at least two years, ever since the headache screwed up so many of my routines. I do find it bizarrely twisted that I gained so much weight because of the headache, and without it I would have no reason to be at a neurologist’s office nor on his ancient scale to begin with. My life is a real-world logic problem.

So, this August I have been making changes, which was another reason I decided to move to Chapel Hill. It is easier to be healthy here. People ride bikes, not just for fun, but to get places. There are walking trails. There are sidewalks. There are trees and creeks and butterflies flitting about all over the place. It is effing idyllic. I fully expect an animated deer to follow me to the grocery store any day now. And now that it’s not 100-freakin-degrees every afternoon, it’s quite lovely to walk around town.

I have been walking daily for almost two weeks now, and I swear to God I try to talk myself out of it every morning. After I roll out of bed and dispense cat food, I sit on the couch for about an hour watching TV and then sit at my laptop going through emails until I eventually put my head down on my desk. Why? Because my doctor also made me give up caffeine and I do not know how human beings remained conscious before noon without it. Actually, I do know—by walking. Going for a 40-minute walk is the only thing that wakes me up now that I can’t suck down coffee. Last Friday I was going to give myself a day off for recovery, but eventually pushed myself out the door because I knew I’d flop on my bed and go back to sleep if I didn’t. And since I haven’t mastered the art of doing work in my sleep, consciousness is required for my continuing financial solvency.

Along with the caffeine killing, my doctor has made me give up artificial sweeteners and preservatives. My neurologist is a whole lot of fun, isn’t he? At my next appointment I suspect he’ll ban dancing and I’ll have to form a secret underground dance club for migraineurs. The diet changes mean I have to eat real food, which means I’ve had to start cooking again. I’ve also had to use real sugar or real honey as sweeteners, which I’ll admit FREAKED ME OUT. I have a sweet tooth, and I was concerned about how I was going to make my food palatable without drizzling it in 50 billion calories. However, as much as I hate to admit this, and I really do hate to admit it because I don’t want it to be true, I think my cravings have decreased now that I’m eating more real food and less Lean Cuisines and Diet Dr. Pepper. (I still love you, Dr. P! Come back to me!) So Goddamn this diet for being good for me. I hate you healthy eating!!

Reflecting on the past month and comparing it to my big weight loss between 2005-2007, I notice one big difference. I am much more resentful about healthy living than I was five years ago. The first time was a happy, fun adventure of self-discovery and change. This time, it’s been a drag-me-by-my-pony-tail-down the trail, begrudging return to healthy habits. I’ve haven’t been doing it because I particularly want to, but because I know I NEED to. And I do know it’s good for me, and I honestly do feel better because of these changes, but Dear Lord I miss my coffee and my sodas and sitting on the couch all day. I suppose this is how people who give up smoking must feel. They know it’s for the best, but they’d still kill a hobo for one last cigarette.

All of which reminds me of the time I saw the film Prince Caspian a while back, and the lion Aslan is talking with Lucy, and according to the Internet she says “Aslan, why didn’t you come roaring in and save us like last time?” and he say “Things never happen the same way twice, dear one.” And when I watched that I paused for a moment and thought, Damn, that stupid fucking lion, but he’s right. Things don’t happen the same way twice. The way I lose weight today is not the same way I lost weight five years ago. I can’t just repeat the things I did before. I’m a different person now, who got a headache, traveled to Europe, and moved to another state. What worked for 25-year-old Jennette is not necessarily what will work for 58-days-until-she’s-30-years-old Jennette. I don’t feel the same way about it all as I did then.

That is the challenge of it all. What works now won’t work forever. You have to keep changing and adapting, because life keeps changing whether you like it or not. So I will take my morning walks and cook food on a stove instead of in the microwave. I don’t like it in the same way that I did five years ago, but I’m starting not to loathe it with the intensity of my back gas burner. I might even start to like it again. Who knows? And if I see that damn talking lion on one of my walks, I’ll tell him thanks.

I’ve been trying to figure out what exactly I did so I can keep on doing it. All I can guess is that I’ve kept my self happily distracted the past week with work, TV, Internet surfing, and socializing. The socializing included pizza and cake though, so I don’t know how that figures in. I’ve felt happier and bouncier ever since the sun returned to Indiana. The secret to weight loss might be happiness. I know people tend to believe weight loss leads to happiness, but I think it’s the other way around. I do best losing weight when I’m feeling good and the other areas of my life are in balance. (And when I’m eating lots of pizza, evidently.)

Thankfully I was at home, and the only person who saw a flash of my clean white undies was my roommate (and possibly the two cats). Regardless of what we ultimately blame for this incident, be it the textile industry or the size of my ass, one cannot ignore that this is a stereotypically fat-person thing to do. I may as well have sat on a chair which collapsed beneath me. As I mentioned on Wednesday, I clearly need help.

If my life were an episode of that old VH1 series, “Behind the Music,” this moment in my life would be the time when I hit rock bottom after spiraling downward in a heroin and cocaine fueled whirlwind, only I used ice cream and chocolate instead. For those of you just entering the story, I developed a chronic headache two years ago that really f*$%ed me up. It changed the way I thought about food, making me see it more as a coping mechanism than I ever had before.

While we can blame at least 80% of my weight gain on the pain, depression and medications, the headache excuse is getting a bit old. At this rate, I might try blaming the poor economy and the high unemployment rate on my headache too. It has become the easy excuse for anything that is going wrong, just like being fat used to be. I’ve been managing my headache a lot better this year, and there’s no reason that I should be gaining weight. The real reason is that I haven’t been on the case lately, and because last December I snuck down some chimneys to eat cookies people just left lying around for some Santa person. When I braved the scale on Monday, I discovered I had gained ten pounds in one week.

Ten pounds!

Which explains why my pants split. But, I’m not one to wallow or whine. Instead, I’ve decided this is my theme song for 2010:

For those of you at work who can’t turn your speakers on, the song is “One More Time” by Daft Punk. It’s happy and upbeat and as the lyrics repeat over and over, we’re going to do this “one more time.” Fitting, because I’m going to do it one more time. Grand total, I’ve gained 50 pounds from the weight I felt comfortable at and maintained for a year and a half. It sucks, but it’s hardly unusual. Unfortunately people gain back weight all the time.

I have decided that when I fill out my National Weight Control Registry form next year I am going to be reporting a loss. I have decided that when I weigh in at my doctor’s office, the numbers will be going down. I have decided that I am going to lose the weight again and keep it off, and anyone who says that’s impossible can bite me (preferably in the thigh, which is high in cellulite).

I could look at my weight gain as a purely bad thing, but I will look at it as an opportunity to achieve another goal I can be proud of. I will be the girl who regained 50 pounds and then lost it and didn’t gain it back. *fingers crossed* Which is why I like the Daft Punk song. It is happy and talks about celebrating one more time, and that’s just what we’re going to do. As anyone who watched “Behind the Music” knows, the story always ends triumphantly with a comeback. I am all fired up and I have a plan!

I think my thinking is what’s really different from when I was thinner. Two years ago I wouldn’t have considered ordering the stuffed cinnamon pancakes at Bob Evans, and last week I barely cared that I did. When I first lost weight, I learned all the nutrition and fitness information I had been lacking all my life, so I’m certain I know how to lose weight now. I need to get back into the proper mindset to make it happen. That’s why I’m doing The Beck Diet Solution, which is a six-week cognitive therapy program that is supposed to help with behavior modification. I’ll be updating you on how that goes. I’ve got my note cards and my pen and my journal with the dopey cover that I got from Hallmark. How can I fail?

I’m not going to weigh in here, because I think that would drive me five kinds of crazy. I do have a little widget in the bottom right of the page from Traineo that says how many pounds I have to go. I’m setting my first goal to just lose 20 pounds, then we’ll go from there.

I also have to admit, I debated whether to write about this publicly. I wrote a weight-loss memoir two years ago, and I know a lot of newbies will be arriving here because of new year’s diet resolutions. I was concerned they’d see this post and think, “Well, this girl is obviously a big failure. I’m not going to buy her book! In fact, I’ll write the publisher and demand they burn every existing copy!” Ultimately though, I decided it’s just best to be honest, and to never give up on what you want. (And hey, if you buy it, there’s still time to win that free camera!)

The only good thing about this, besides the chance to prove myself again, is that my favorite pair of brown corduroys fit again! They were my “goal pants” back when I was trying to lose weight in college. Those pants reminded me that I’ve been way fatter than I am now, so things could be a lot worse. Anyway, here’s to the first 20 pounds in 2010!

Here’s where I stand with my 2009 goals:

1) Continue to pursue headache treatments

I first went to the headache clinic in January of 2009. Within a few months, we were managing my headache much better, though not ridding me of it completely. We’re still tweaking meds, but overall this goal was pretty much met.

2) Work to become full-time freelancer

I chucked my job in July of 2009 and haven’t looked back. I don’t know how I ever coped with working in an office in the first place. I still don’t have a long-term health insurance solution, but I’ll deal with that at the end of 2010. Another goal accomplished!

3) Maintain my weight with regular fitness and health eating

I’m going to give myself a C+ on this one. I continued to gain weight at the beginning of the year, but I’ve been maintaining for the past several months. I could do better, but managing the headache comes before weight loss, even in this list.

4) Secret goal I will not reveal because I like driving you crazy

Also, I did absolutely nothing to work on this goal, so major FAIL on my part.

5) Travel outside the country

Done. I saw London, I saw France! I only packed four pairs of underpants! (Travel light, and do laundry in the sink.)

Overall, pretty good job, but there is room for improvement. After some thought, here are my goals for 2010:

1) Secret goal I will not reveal to preserve an air of mystery

2) Lose at least 20 pounds by July.

3) Travel to at least 3 new places.

4) Finish and promote headache memoir

5) Another secret goal, in case I hadn’t driven you mad already.

I’ve printed my goals and taped them to my desk. Now I just have to achieve them!

Those are the things I ate on vacation.

When I stepped on the scale Wednesday morning, I held my breath, stared at the nail hole in the closet wall in front of me, and dreaded looking down when the scale beeped. Then I exhaled and smiled because I had lost four pounds. I suppose all that nonsense about French women not getting fat was true.

Even though I ate all those scrumptious, delectable foods listed above, I also walked so far that my feet hurt at the end of every day. I walked and walked and walked because I knew something old and/or magnificent was hiding just around the corner, like a Metro stop leading back to the hotel. I probably walked 6 or 7 miles every day. I got blisters. I walked and walked and didn’t gain a single pound, even though I ate total crap.

Now that I’ve been back in the states for a week, I have been missing this alternate reality I lived in for 8 days. I very much enjoyed this universe where I was able to eat a chocolate sandwich for lunch and make more room in my jeans on the same day. It has made me wonder on the couch how I could make this reality a part of my daily life, but it occurred to me I’d have to get off the couch to do it. Walking 6 or 7 miles a day would start to get old pretty fast, especially when I wasn’t seeing new and fascinating things every day.

So, I’ll go back to my normal life instead, where I walk 2 miles during my lunch break and my feet don’t always hurt and sadly, there are no chocolate sandwiches for lunch.

.

.

.

Oh, you want me to say something else about this? All right.

After spending most of 2008 in pain, I began to bottom out in September, eventually started yelling at my readers, and went on anti-depressants because life was a meaningless pit of shit with no drain. I also stopped exercising and started eating more, like those chocolate covered nuts from Fresh Market and the Dove ice cream pints with a solid layer of chocolate on top and an entire Papa John’s pizza and a box of breadsticks on Oscar night.

I didn’t mention any of this because 1) Duh, it sucks to talk about and 2) The times I did start to write about it I had to mention my headache and I wasn’t going to do that again, so I never hit “Publish.”

Regardless of your views on obesity and what a healthy weight is, gaining a pound a week for months on end is not a good thing unless you’re recovering from anorexia. I kept weighing in everyday and marked it on my calendar, as depressing as that was, but I was depressed anyway, so who could tell the difference? I would tell myself, “This really needs to stop,” but then my pain would say, “LOOK AT ME!!” and punch me in the face and I’d add another ice cream pint to the bill.

Thankfully, the medications have tuned down the pain level so it does not envelope my whole life anymore. I can drive past the Fresh Market, think of the vanilla chocolate covered crunch bin, and keep on driving without remorse. Which just shows it’s easier to deal with an addiction when you are not facing a trigger 24 hours a day. As a result, I’ve been maintaining my weight for the last few months and haven’t had to buy any new pants since December.

You are free to think what you want about all this. You can say it is proof that people cannot lose weight and keep it off. You can say it shows I am a human being and you like me even more because of it. You can say I got what I deserved for writing a blog and a book about weight loss and how happy I was. You can say you are proud that I am talking about it and you think I’m inspirational because of it. All I think it proves is that my head hurt and I needed the ice cream.

I know I should be horribly devastated by this, that I should be weeping that my weight starts with the number two, that I am such a horrible disappointment to everyone who called me an inspiration and blah, blah, blah, but really? Honestly? I’m fine. It is not the worst thing to happen to me. A chronic headache that would not go away for over a year is the worst thing that ever happened to me, and if someone said I had to gain another 20 pounds to make the headache go away completely I would say, “Hand me the Ho-Ho’s!”

You know all that stuff I said in my blog and my book about how my life had changed, but it wasn’t just because of my weight? The stuff I said about how it was doing things I was proud of and liking myself as a person? You know, all that bullshit thin people say when they’re not fat anymore? Well, what do you know? It’s true! I actually meant it! I am as full of myself as ever, but even more so because there’s more to be full of! I am flying off to Europe on two month’s notice even if I am up two jean sizes. I am running a blog and doing freelance design work on the side and earning book royalties like a real business woman. I am doing other stuff that I am proud of but can’t talk about on the blog because it’s private. Feel free to call me an arrogant narcissist in denial. I’ll call you back collect from Paris!

Kirstie Alley was on Oprah this week, and I tried very hard to avoid the show, but even though I don’t have cable I still saw a dozen ads for it and saw clips of it on of the nightly entertainment news magazines. Kirstie Alley is an American actress who got fat a few years ago, lost a lot of weight as the Jenny Craig spokeswoman, appeared in a bikini on Oprah, and then got fat again. She was on the show talking about all this and all I could think while watching the clips were, “I do not give a shit.” If Kirstie Alley wants to sit at home and eat nothing but Twinkies, more power to her. And if Kirstie Alley wants to set up a home gym in her dining room and pose on the cover of health magazines, more power to her. Neither situation makes her better or worse as a human being, it just means she’s making different life choices, and they’re her choices to make, so could everyone get over it already? It shouldn’t have to be “brave” to tell people that working out sucks and you like chocolate. It just makes you human. It shouldn’t be a story to be discussed on multiple news outlets, not when we could be talking about how cute the Obama’s new dog is.

All that said, Kirstie Alley seemed pissed that she hadn’t been taking care of herself, which brings up this question:

“But PQ, what about your health? Aren’t you concerned about your health?”

Ha, ha, ha, ha! Sorry, give me a minute to – ha, ha, ha! In the past year I’ve had two MRI’s, two CTs, and more blood tests than I can count. My blood pressure has been taken. My pulse has been counted. Literally dozens of medical professionals have examined me and all they can do is rave over how healthy I am. They say, “PastaQueen, you are a paradigm of good health!” and I tell them, “No, I’m not!” and then I go see another doctor and the cycle continues. So please, do not stare at your bedroom ceiling at night worried about my health.

That said, I am not 100% comfortable with my weight gain. I still get called to do book-related interviews from time to time and if I have to meet someone in person I worry if they will think I’m too fat to do a story about my book. No one has said anything to me, but I’m not sure if that’s because their mommas taught them manners or if they just look at the “before” photo like I do and think, “Yeah, she’s lost a lot of weight.” I’m still down 160 pounds, which is an entire person, which is another reason I’m not weeping into a spinach salad right now. It all depends on your perspective

Now that my headache is momentarily contained, I’ve been eating better and I’ve started walking during my lunch breaks. I’m getting back into it and I wouldn’t mind dropping 20 pounds. But…weight loss is not the most important thing in my life. It certainly was the most important thing in my life for the first two years when I was dropping dress sizes every few months. When I told people, “I want to be thin,” what I was really saying was, “I want to lead the life I want to live.” Losing all the weight has made me confident and taught me to believe in myself and has allowed me to live my life in ways that I never could before, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m living my life. That has less to do with being fat or thin than most people think.

I still weigh every day. I’m still mindful of what I eat. I still think, “I need to exercise today” and sometimes I do. But even if I weren’t doing those things, I would still be me and like I said in my book, the fat PastaQueen was a funny, kind, person too. I am still me no matter how inflated or deflated my fat cells are and I’d hope you guys will remember that about yourselves too.

You can judge me as you will, fat or thin or somewhere in between. If I got to change one thing about my body I’d fix my headaches first, give myself normal feet second, and attend to the weight thing third, because it doesn’t bother me that much. I’m so tired of writing about my body, but I’ve written about my weight so much in this place I felt an obligation to put it out there. And hey, how cute is the Obama’s new dog?

It was exactly 4 years ago today that I stepped on a scale and then stepped on a treadmill and finally stepped into a new phase of my life. Happy fativersary to me!

I started out at 372 pounds, a number I would rather possess in foreign currency than write down on my weight chart. After over two and half years of work, I hit a low of 170.8 pounds (partially induced by stress I dared not blog about). That weight was a bit too low for me, since I still like to eat a donut now and then. Instead, I maintained a weight of 180 pounds for a good while, was happy with my size, and bopped happily down nature trails and treadmills as I trained for a half marathon and promoted my book.

Then after almost a year of unrelenting chronic pain, I entered another phase of my life which involved depression and compulsive eating, gaining back about 25 pounds. And quite frankly my dear, I didn’t give a damn, because I was so foregone.

Lately, I have stabilized both mentally and physically. I haven’t gained any more weight in the past few months and my secret, late-night dates with the freezer department at Marsh have become infrequent. I am hopeful that as I continue to pursue medical treatment, I will regain the health and energy necessary to work off that weight and enter yet another phase of my life.

That’s the story so far. It keeps going. I lose weight. I gain a bit back. I lose it again. That’s life. That’s my body. It takes time and work and a sense of perspective.

It does not involve acai berries or colon cleanses, which I only mention because along with the new year there has been a rise in scammers wishing to take advantage of people who have made resolutions to lose weight. Steve from Weight Loss Weapons has made a master list of sites that are pretending to be blogs but are in fact fronts created to sell you sham products so their owners can make big profits. Don’t be fooled!

One of these sites tried to place an ad on my site earlier this week, but it seemed fishy to me so I rejected them. (Yes, I sometimes turn down ads. It’s not just a line in my advertising policy.) These sites are pretending to be run by regular people who are telling their life stories (like I do here on this blog), but they’re fake. They want you to trust them because they act like they are part of our community, but they are just twisting that sense of social connection for their own means. It’s kind of disgusting, even grosser than the idea of a colon cleanse. I was hesitant to link to the list of sites because I don’t want anyone clicking on the links and buying the products, but I think it’s better to warn people about the fraud than pretend it’s not out there.

To all of you looking to celebrate your own fativersary, good luck! All we have is time and each other. Skip the acai berries and invest in yourself instead. You won’t regret it.

I was wondering what weight chart did you use when determining what you should weigh? – Liz

Asking this question is like asking “How many guys do I have to sleep with before I’m a slut?” It depends. One person’s answer is not necessarily going to be the same as another’s. Just like your sluttiness, you goal weight is subjective.

I had been fat my entire adult life, so setting a goal weight was tricky. I didn’t have a frame of reference for my ideal body weight. People who have been skinny before can refer to the weight they liked their body at best, whereas I was just making my best guess at what weight would be good for me. Plus, I couldn’t exactly go up to people I thought looked good and say, “How much do you weigh?” (Not until I took a self-defense course first.)

Instead, I took a look at the BMI (body mass index) chart to determine the range of weight that was recommended for someone of my height. The body mass index is determined by dividing your weight by your height squared. The ideal BMI is between 18.5 and 25. There are many calculators online like this one from the National Institutes of Health that will do the tricky math stuff and metric conversions for you. The BMI is not perfect, so chill out before you write that comment that says Michael Jordan would be considered obese according to BMI. I consider the BMI to be a guideline, not a non-negotiable rule. One of the things I’ve learned in life is that almost everything’s negotiable.

I set my goal for 160 because it was at the high end of the BMI charts and seemed attainable. However, as I approached my goal I continued to reassess my weight and determined I was happier at 180. This was the weight I landed at when I was eating healthy 95% of the time and exercising regularly. Just as some people are naturally taller or darker skinned or better at foosball than others, some people are naturally a bit chubbier and skinnier than the “norms.” It’s quite possible that you can eat the same things and exercise as much as someone the same height and gender as you, and you’d weigh different amounts. Some bodies are just better at retaining fat than others. Them’s the breaks. Blame your DNA.

I think it best to set an initial goal weight and reassess it as you get closer depending on your overall health and how you feel about your body. You might find you’re very happy at your goal. Other people might find they ideally want to weigh less or more. What’s most important is being in touch with your body and figuring out what’s best for it.

I should also note, that while most people set a goal weight when starting a weight loss program, you can also set a goal dress size, goal measurements, or set a fitness goal like running a 5K. It’s good to have non-scale victories because weight is not the best determiner of fat loss. If you gain muscle and lose fat, you might actually weigh more even though your body has become slimmer, yet more dense. Whatever goals you set, good luck achieving them!