Wednesday, January 18, 2006

blub blub blub

do you remember those ellios pizza commercials where the kid is sitting watching the frozen pizza cook in the toaster oven? he says he likes it because the cheese goes "blub blub blub" which i always found really kind of disgusting. i remember it, i think, because blub blub blub really decribes how i feel in this killer bod.

everyone in my family has had a weight problem at one time or another. i've truly convinced myself that there is some sort of cosmic anti-semitism going on because i've hardly met a jew without some sort of weight ish or guilt. i hate the WASPS, or at least the idea of them, with their cream colored sweaters and never the urge for seconds.

when i was in jamaica walking around with my thin friend who was always the most beautiful girl in the world growing up, the men, while overtly nasty and disrespectful, were cat calling at me, not her. i was the meal while she was simply the toothpick. i let all my stuff just hang out that week. i felt like a show off. felt great. when i got back to new york, the high lasted for a day or two until some woman offered me her seat in the subway because i was aparently pregnant.

in my last year of college i was tripping my balls off at the jersey shore with friends. we were all piled into the hot tub and i looked down at my white tanktop and black bra, at my boxer shorts and newly shaved legs and i said, holy fuckin shit, i am MADONNA. and i was. i went to the mirror and made some muscles and sure enough i was madge circa 1986, her desperately seeking susan years. hot. "hey, you guys," i said, "i'm madonna." and wouldn't ya know they all saw it too. and for the rest of the night i was signing autographs and dodging frenches. then i came down and slept the next day watching teen wolf, chain smoking and feeling sorry for myself. i tried so hard to see it again, like how people relive their bad trips over and over again. no such luck. doesn't work that way.

basically, i knew i had a real problem here when my friend, 7 months pregnant, asked if she could borrow my winter coat for her last trimester. it's not cool anymore. i'm sick of this shit. time to "get my svelt on", folks.

as mom's friend says,

love and knishes,


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