August 29, 2005
Everyone's Favorite Day of The Week
 | Currently Listening Van Lear Rose By Loretta Lynn see related |
Over the past two years, I�ve switched meetings quite a bit. Inthe spring, before I fell off it again, I started going to Tuesdaymeetings. Fine. That was where I met �Barbara� for thefirst time. Barbara is a middle-aged blonde woman who wearsmono hued outfits and uses a very intense-looking motorizedwheel-chair. Her blue eyes are crossed and unfocused and sheconstantly chews gum.
The first interaction I ever had with her began when I showed up, Idon�t know, maybe ten minutes early for the meeting that was wassoon to become The Strangest Weight Watchers Meeting I Have Ever Been To Ever (the topic was emotional eating and people were suggestingalernate ways to cope with stress. One woman recommended to pet acat. And the meeting leader bursts into tears. �My cat hasbeen missing for a week,� she explained. �She�s eleven years old,and my nephew came by with his dog and the cat ran out thedoor. I�ve had the cat since she was born. She was born inmy mother�s garage. My dead mother�s garage. I�m justbeside myself. I told myself I wouldn�t cry, I�m sorry.� Some one then volunteered a story about how her daughter�s Spaniel hadrun away and was feared dead. At this, a small, older woman witha thick Eastern European accent burst into tears. �I lost my dog,too,� she said. �You mean it ran away?� asked the leader. �No, I�she�I�� �You mean she passed on?� The woman, no longerable to speak, nodded yes. �Recently?� some one asked. �Four months ago,� the babushka replied. �Such a good dog. I cry, I miss her every night.�). I was reading a book whilethe Watchers weighed in. Barbara, who was sittingacross the aisle from me pointed her eyes in my direction andintroduced herself.
�Hi, I�m Barbara,� said Barbara. �What�s your name?�
�Oh, I�m Joanna. Hi,� I said.
�Joanna, how long have you been coming here?�
�Um, about a year and a half,� I said. �Off and on.�
�Joanna, you don�t look like you need to come here.�
�Oh, um, er, thanks? I mean, thank you, but I�ve been doing Weight Watchers for a long time.�
�Joanna, you are a beautiful woman, Joanna.�
���
�Joanna, what do you do, Joanna?�
�I�m a student.�
�Joanna, what do you study?�
�Well, I�m an English major. Undergraduate.�
�Joanna, where do you go to school?�
�I go to Stanford.�
�Joanna, that�s great.�
���
�Joanna, you must be very smart.�
�Oh, um, no, not really.�
�Joanna, yes, they don�t let dummies in there.�
�I don�t know.�
�Joanna, I wish I could be in school.�
�Joanna, I loved college.�
�Joanna, I could never do that.�
�Joanna, I have MS.�
Another woman sat down in the row in front of me and Barbara�sattention shifted to her. �Hi, I�m Barbara,� said Barbara. �What�s your name?� �Nice to meet you Barbara. I�mElla.� �Ella, you are a beautiful woman.�
Barbara sounds exactly like this alcoholic family friend. I usedto be friends with The Alcoholic�s son. My mom isfriends with The Alcoholic, and every time I�m in New York and I runinto her or pick up the telephone and it�s she, I end up havingconversations with the alcoholic that sound exactly like the one I hadwith Barbara, and I mean exactly. Their voices both have thisstrange, flat, floaty quality and they repeat names a lot, at thebeginning of nearly every sentence, so that you get the strange feelingthat your name is being tugged down as someone latches onto it forgrounding and support. A few years ago, Lindsay, who is my oldestchildhoodfriends and who was once also friendly with The Alcoholic�s son, wasover at my house when The Alcoholic dropped by. Linds walked intothe kitchen to get a glass of water and she had her shirt rolled up sothe hem sat a few inches below her breasts�we had just come down fromsun-tanning on the roof�and The Alcoholic was there. TheAlcoholic questioned Lindsay for a while in the manner demonstratedabove. Then, as Lindsay was trying to get closer to the door, TheAlcoholic stepped in front of her. �Lindsay you look so good!�said The Alcoholic. �But,� she added, �you should do somethingabout this.� She pointed at Lindsay�s exposed stomach. Lindsay says she assumed that the alcoholic was just referreringto the fact that her navel was exposed and that The Alcoholic, as anolderperson, found that tasteless, so Lin explained we�d just beensunbathing and rolled her shirt down. �No,� The Alcoholicsaid. �I mean you should really do something about that fat.�
Now I'm going to meetings on Thursdays It�s not the same leader from Tuesday (whosecat, it so happens, returned by the following week�s meeting, at whichthis announcement was met with jubilant applause, followed by a anuncomfortable, guilty silence as the Soviet Bloc started to tear upagain), but guess what? Barbara is now going on Thursdays, too. I�m alwayslate, so I haven�t had anymore tete-a-tetes with her, though I�venot been lacking for painfully uncomfortable interactions.
Last week, the topic was fast food and how to make the occasional fastfood meal work with The Plan. The leader passed around a coupleof WW Dining Out Companion books for people to look up their favoritefast food foods. Some one asked about Jamba Juice, someone saidsomething and then the topic moved on. About three minutes later,Barbara pipes up. �Did someone say Jamba Juice?" saysBarbara. Jamba Juice is myfavorite.�
�I love Jamba Juice,� says Barbara. �I wish I could have aJamba Juice. But my caretaker won�t take me there. Yeah, Ilove Jamba Juice, but she won't take me there.� No one know whatto say. �Ok,� says the leader after silence, �let�s look upthe points valueof a Jamba Juice. Julie, why don�tyou help Barbara look up Jamba Juice.� So Julie does. Shereads some points value and we all pretend that we don�t hear thethings Barbara actually says.
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August 18, 2005
Best Lunch "Hour" Ever
Weight Watchers meeting (I lost a measly .2 lbs) anda trip to Vaden to pee into a cup (to confirm the obvious: a urinarytract infection)? Oboy! How can one girl be so lucky ?
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August 11, 2005
I Said WW, Not AA
 | Currently Listening Couleur Caf� By Serge Gainsbourg see related |
The theme of this week's meeting was Winning Outcomes, and when Iarrived (late) there was, written in the large, competent red andpurple purple characters of a second-grade teacher on the bigeasel-backed pad, "What will this cost?" and "Is it worth it?" Igot really excited because I assumed it referred to specific food itemsof a covetable nature and how to know whether said item truly is worthgoing over your points for. I was totally ready to particpatewith my own real life example of how, on Monday, I had a dinner thatcost me 25 points-- which took me not only well over my daily target of20 points but also completely off the chart with my weekly flex-Points,most of which, as is usual for a Monday, had already been drunk overthe weekend (and, ok-- that morning's breakfeast)-- and it was totallyworth it. I was feeling smug about losing 1.4 lbs IN SPITE OFCOMPLETELY EMBALMING MY INNARDS AND THEN HAVING A 25 POINT MEAL OFFRIED POLENTA, LAMB CHOPS, DONUT HOLES AND DUCK FAT.
Unfortunately, my interpretation of the questions "What will this costme?" and "Is it worth it?" was not the intended one, as I soon pickedup on. It seemed that the intended interpretation was 'what willlosing this weight cost me?' and 'is it worth the sacrifice?' Soeveryone was all talking about their personal reasons for coming toWeight Watchers and how costs like giving up a glass of wine in theevening and bigger portions and french fries, is so worth it that theydon't even miss it.
Damn. I even had anice story to tell about my enlightening experience with duckfat. About how it was worth it for me because it was aspecial dinner on a special occaision and even though I feeluncomfortable writing it down here, I probably would have told the WWladies that it was for an anniverseryish (so uncomfortable I can't evenwrite the real word) dinner with my boyfriend, but purely because forsome reason, stories about anniverseries always go over really well andare rewarded with fond, nostalgic smiles and nods of blessing andapproval.
See, I almost never say anything at WW meetings, and not because Idon't know the answers (you can not listen to anything that's going onand then randomly chirp "portions" and you'll have a 50% chance ofbeing showered by the leader with praise and encouragement and approvalfor sharing your good answer with the group). I never talkbecause whenever you way anything-- "water," for instance-- the leaderwill always ask you to share some personal anecdote about someexperience you had with water, and whether you were happy about thatexperience and what would you do differently if you found yourself inthe same situation again. The women there are, for the most part,just so nice and grandmotherly (not like mygrandmother, mind you, but that's besides the point), and I just feellike my stories are just too shameful for them to know. Like,when the meeting leader asks about "difficult situations" people findthem in, someone will say, "well I'm the mother of a two-year old[sometimes, on occaision, this person will have there baby there andthe baby, with a suspiciously good sense of comic timing, will emit aloug gurgly noise just as the mother says "adorable"], so I'm always onthe go, and I end up snacking a lot instead of sitting down formeals." Then the leader will ask, "How do you think you canhandle this situation in the future so that you don't do the same thingagain?" and then the woman will say something like, "well, I'm going toplan ahead more and keep more healthy snacks around the house, and cookmore stews and things that I can heat up again later in theweek." Then the leader will say, "By making better choices, youwill be able to move past bad habits," and everyone will clap.
Once, and I swear this is true, the meeting leader was leading adiscussion on "danger foods" and how to protect ourselves from theirsiren songs and keep temptation at bay. The leader was givingtips like, "put those corn chips on the highest shelf of your pantry,where it's hard for you to reach" (yeah, like that's really everstopped me before) and "arrange the items in your fridge so that thefirst things you see when you open the door are fruits and vegetables(um, that's actually a great idea, especially since water melting offthe glacial freezerburn up north has been making its way into myvegetable bin and rotting my fucking potatoes. I should totallyget on that.). This one grandma raises her hand, and says in avoice as mild and pleasant as a sunshower in June, "Well, I've alwayshad a weakness for chocolate, and my husband loves chocolate, and it'shard for me to say no to chocolate when I see it right there in frontof me."
"And how do you handle this situation?" asks the leader.
"Well, I couldn't ask my husband to give up chocolate, but he has hisown part of the house, a den I guess you'd call it, which we added tothe house so he would have a place to work on his model trains, andthat's his space, you know, I don't go in there. Well, after Itold my husband I was having trouble with his chocolate, he decided hewould keep his chocolate in his room, so that's what he does, and he eats it there, too, and I never have to see it and feel tempted."
"See," said the leader, " By tapping into her support system and making a compromise Marcia was able to make a change in her surroundings that helped her make a change in how she eats." Oh, and all the italics are where the leader will slow her speech so that people can participate by figuring out the rest of the phrase and chiming in.
My point is, I really have nothing to contribute after a story likethat, because the situation in my life that I'm thinking about, justlike I was instructed to, is so far away from babies and modeltrains. I couldn't take the guilt of telling a room full ofgrandmas that my "danger food" is alcohol and my "tempting situation"is "cocktail hour on" and that this weekend, after drinking all myfelx-Points, I dealt with my "situation" by "continuing to drink untilI vomited the evening's points back."
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