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[I'm currently waiting for the hot water heater installation to finish.  I'm sure there's plenty I could be doing right now rather than recatorgorizing old posts and blathering on.  Maybe he'll finish soon.]

Flipping around before bed, a depression swept over me such as I had not felt for awhile.  My night time channel surfing habits keep shifting towards reality programming and it strikes me that almost everything on after 11pm is reality programming.  Court TV, A&E, TLC, Discovery, PBS, MTV, VH1 – throw a rock and you’ll hit a reality show.  And what’s the result?  Millions of people believing that what they watch is the straightup truth, as opposed to something cleverly edited together for maximum dramatic impact.

I caught three minutes before the last commercial break of Dr. 90210, possibly the most harmful show on television.  Some former fatty got sliced, diced, sucked and enlarged until she looked like she thought she should look.

And then she, her mom and two friends went shopping.  And spent $1700 on new clothes.  “We take EVERYTHING,” Ms. Liposuction crowed.  $1700.  That’s slightly less than our house payment.

Later, they went to lunch.  As Shelly Winters picked off of her lunch partners plates (“Ooh, this pasta is great!”) she talked about – dieting.

I started dieting when I was 13? and they were all so restrictive? that I always put the weight back on?  And you can’t be on the Atkins diet forever no matter how many products they have on the market.  So (chomp) I guess what I’d say about dieting, is don’t stress about it.  Eat when you need to.  Stop when you’re full.

I don’t know your name, but please drown in a vat of pudding.  Please.  How can you spew that kind of bullshit when you just had plastic surgery not to be fat??  And you can be sure that tens of thousands of women watching this nod their heads sagely and think about how brave this fucking idiot is.

True story – A friend of mine was getting married.  She wanted to lose weight.  She realized that her eating sprang not from something that she could not control, but from a need to fill a hole within herself.  So she went to Overeater’s Anonymous.  She measured her food.  She only ate when she was supposed to.  She exercised.  For a while, it seemed obsessive to me.  When she would visit for dinner, she brought her own food.  BUT – she lost the weight she wanted to and resolved (or at least identified) the problems that made her turn to food for solutions.  And, one day, she felt confident enough to eat “normally”.  She has not gained the weight back.  The end.

Bimbo Number 2 (and I’ve no idea what massively invasive procedures she went through) sat at an outdoor cafe and chatted with two fairly overweight women who seemed to be thinking, “Go fuck yourself, you miserable bitch”.

“This is the body that I think I’m supposed to have”, she told her chubby but honest looking friends.  “NOW, I can feel confident about myself.  NOW, I can start dating and feel good about myself.”  One raised the merest whisper of a protest along the lines of it’s-your-insides-that-count.  She would hear none of’t.  As far as she was concerned, all she ever needed was money and medical science to make all of her junior high school dreams come true.

From the cafe, they went for a hike in the woods.  It felt good, she told the camera crew (and perhaps her friends, too), to be exercising again.  For two months the doctor told her no exercise and the disruption in her exercise routine had been “really hard.”  Huh?  Again, I missed the first 47 minutes of the show, but judging by her mishapen thighs her exercise routine needed revisiting in a big, big way.

My guess – a two-year anniversary show will find these women lonesome, miserable and probably in the process of suing Dr. 90210 (both the show and whichever doctor they went to).  I honestly don’t know why it’s so hard for people to understand – your problems spring from inside of you.  It’s got nothing to do with your eating, drinking, gambling, sex, drugs or even exercise.  It’s you.  You can make yourself unrecognizable to the guy in high school who talked you into a blow job behind the gym and humiliated you in front of the school, but that guy along with the rest of the school, will still live in your head, laughing at you until such time as you work it out inside and resolve it.    Big tits won’t do that.  Letting a machine suck the fat from your body won’t do that.  And $1700 worth of clothes will probably only serve to get you back behind the gym with the same guy.

Change - real, substantive change happens inside and sucks more than any fat vacuum.  At least for a while it does.  But the reward at the end of the pain makes you radiant.

And it doesn’t disrupt your exercise routine.

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