Health?

If this is what it means to be healthy, no wonder so few people do it. It's really obnoxious. And it's hard to concentrate when you're hungry all the time.

I started doing a calorie counting website, www.myfitnesspal.com, which says I should eat about 1,230 calories a day. That's half what the middle school health teacher said we should eat in a day, plus a bag of chips or a brownie or something. Like, half of what the world told me I could eat. So now, I'm adjusting to low-feeding levels. And it sucks. Because I get kind of hungry.

I guess it's because my body got so used to consuming too much food it began to expect a feast every day. Now that I'm giving it its real requirement, it's angry at me. It wants sandwiches. It wants cake. But it can no longer have sandwiches and cake. It can have only cream of wheat and tears.

Now, before all two of you guys reading this start to worry, I'm not on some anorexic crash course diet to try to lose weight because I hate myself and want to look like a vapid Victoria's Secret model. My body, though unique, is fine. And I realize that even if I hated my body, like I used to, losing weight wouldn't help me love it. Back when I hated my body, I hated it just as much when I was 112 pounds as when I was 155. I have to love my body unconditionally or not at all. I have to love it whether everyone likes it or no one does. Otherwise I'll be miserable again.

No, this calorie counter came from a pure, innocent place. I was catsitting at my father's fiance's apartment when I realized I literally could not stop eating her Reese's Cups. Like, actually couldn't stop. I couldn't overcome the temptation. And then I got to thinking about things I've heard about sugar, and how it can be just as addicting as alcohol or benedril or Gilmore Girls (don't quote me on this.) And I realized that I, Alison Maney, am addicted to sugar. A glucosaholic. I recalled times in my youth when I could easily turn down cookies and candy, realizing I didn't need them or didn't really want them. Now, when I see sweets, I must eat them. And that's no good. Society usually discourages dependency on a substance. My substance of choice just happened to be legal. And super available.

So I figured, why not use this website to track my sugar intake? When I have to write out every doughnut hole in the food log, I'll gain incentive to turn down sugar. To my surprise, I learned lent was mere days away, and took it as a sign that I should give up sugary sweets for the sake of myself and God. (Except for on Sundays, obviously.)

Problem is, when I typed in my statistics, it turned out my recommended calorie intake was way lower than expected. Not wanting the website to blast me with red warnings for every calorie that overstepped the limit, I decided to try to keep myself in the recommended calorie range. It's been about a week now, and now I'm sitting on my bed in my underwear too distracted by my hunger to write about anything else. I guess I'll tell you guys about my awesome weekend next time. I'm off to the gym.      

Random Thoughts

I think if I couldn't write I would die.

Not so much that if for a time I wasn't allowed to write, I would die. That would be awful, but not impossible. I'd still have writing inside me. I'd still write mentally - I'd still think in writing. But if a terrible accident occurred, like a bullet on the street or a car crash, and destroyed that part of my brain... I think, if I lost my one ability, I would have to die.

For so long, I've identified writing as my skill. Since first grade teachers praised my journals and my parents sent my homework to their friends. What would I do without this skill? It defines me. It's my marketable resource. It's the way I plan on making money. It's all I have.

What if I actually suck at it?

What if these people praised me out of kindness instead of true admiration? What then? I'd feel my entire life has been a lie. True, I'd still have all the pleasure of actually writing stuff, but knowing I'm delusional and crappy would make me feel... upset.

This fear is amplified by my inability to tell whether I'm writing something good or not. I know a work's worth once someone praises it, but before that I look at it and think, "What a load of crap I just put down on this paper. I've disgraced my standing as a writer. I know I could have done better. Look at all this f*cking passive voice. I'm the worst person ever."

 And then someone either says, "This is super great!" or "This could use more work." I absolutely never know which it's going to be. Which is incredibly nerve wracking seeing as I write papers for all my grades and all.

But papers are hard. I won't write papers in the real world. I'll write articles or emails or captions beneath J.Crew t-shirts. And I'll write fiction and poetry on my own time. And that shit probably won't get published anyway. So... there.

Now that I think about it, I'm going to be poor forever. Which means I'll never have kids, since I can't afford them. Which is ok, I guess, since I planned on not getting married. But I did want kids. Badly. Too bad they're so darn expensive. I think I'm starting to understand the mindset of gold diggers. Maybe it's time I started investing in a hot body. Too bad I'll never be able to trick someone into thinking I love them. I'd feel so terrible. I can't imagine how anyone does it. It's like training a puppy and then kicking it away. Except, in this case, the puppy is a sweaty fifty-year-old billionaire. Still, it's a person. You can't do that to a person, whether they're a puppy or a businessman.

Oh, I'm getting tired. Will any of this make sense in the morning? Debatable.

But while I'm on the subject of bodies, let me talk about mine. Mine is at it's prime, whether it looks good or not. I'm at the peak of my youth and it's all downhill from here. It's far from perfect, with many... er... unique qualities. But there must be someone out there who would enjoy it. But whoever they are, they're not picking at peak season. Because I have a feeling I won't have another relationship anytime soon. Or even a fling. Or a crush.

Well, maybe a crush. Our romance is forbidden, even though he doesn't know it exists yet. He's a friend of my good friend Kevin - and Kevin is in super intense like with me. So, despite my inability to like Kevin back, it'd be pretty wankoids for me to go after his friend. And, therefore, I can't even make a move on this guy. Not that he'd be interested anyway - he's waaaay out of my league. Head of a club, super good at a million things... you know the type.

But he's super cute though you guys. I think his wonky teeth attract me more than anything. That, and that he's super nerdy and super cool at the same time. He's absolutely unashamed of his nerddom. Which is pretty much the most attractive thing in the entire world.

But I'm thankful. His unavailability struck me hard, but because of him, I found I can feel again. I can crush on someone again. I can actually feel attraction. And because I can feel attraction to one person means I may eventually feel attraction for another. And maybe next time, he'll like me back.

Not that I particularly "like" like this guy. Just to clear that up. I just find him attractive, ok? Just attractive. Ok.

Celebrity

Not many of my friends know this about me (or maybe they do and I hide it poorly): I love celebrity ladies. So much. I love their pretty clothes, their confidence, and their sexiness. I'll reblog their pictures on tumblr, keep up with their clubbing outfits, and always watch their new music videos (you know, if they're singers.)   

I would call my celebrity love a guilty pleasure, but that would suggest I'm ashamed of my billions of girl crushes.

I guess it stems from my obsession with the female form. I think all bodies are absolutely beautiful - I browse body positive tumblrs for hours, looking at thousands of unique female forms. I love how each one is different. I love the sizes and falls of breasts, the rolls or flat plane of each stomach. On legs I love dimples and muscle lines both. And I have yet to find a face not worth admiring. Which contributes in a big way to my confusion when I see that most guys pursue "the ideal," and feel that if anything about a woman is not "ideal" she deserves to be ridiculed. I've met one or two guys who don't seem to believe that (guys who love individual girls as whole people instead of making each potential mate a checklist of physical traits,) but these guys are few and far between.

But, I already talked about that in a past post. I assume whoever's reading this already knows how baffled I am about how men seem to upgrade their women like cars. I need to stop talking about this. My three loyal readers will get bored.

Anyway. Celebrities. Celebrities are glamorous, celebrities are fancy. But many times, people feel the need to put celebrities down. Maybe it's because celebrities are more like fictional characters than human beings. Maybe it's because we find them unworthy of their positions of power. Maybe it's because we're jealous because they will be mourned by millions when they die, while we will only be remembered by a select few. I don't know why we do it. I know I'm guilty of putting celebrities down as well (goodness knows I've said some unflattering things about Kim Kardashian's voice.) But there are a few put-downs that I just don't understand.

1) Adele is fat.

Adele is not fat. Adele appears to be a healthy weight for her body type. I had heard about Adele before I saw her - I had heard the nasty comments about her weight, and heard admirers mention Adele's "weight problem" begrudgingly. So imagine my surprise when I saw a young woman with a fairly small, very defined waist, gorgeous round hips and breasts, and medium-thick thighs.

I'm not sure what my informants were talking about. Perhaps these people live in some town that survives on a stock of celery and wheat grass, where 150 lbs ladies are considered monstrously overweight. But I live in a world where many gorgeous, desirable women reach much, much higher numbers on the scale.

But "fatness" is subjective.

So, then, what if, in your opinion, Adele is "fat"? Certainly she's not unhealthily so. I'd say her smoking poses much more of a risk to her health than her extra pounds. But still, what of it? It's her body. We don't get to dictate what she puts into it. We don't get to dictate what body size is "correct" for anyone other than ourselves.

And if Adele is indeed fat, what a positive influence for the children! For little girls to believe their body type won't define their "success" in life - that's huge (no pun intended.) That's what we want.

Whatever.

2) Sarah Jessica Parker is ugly.

She looks like a regular person.

But, hey, let's assume she is ugly. If that's the case, we should be kissing her feet. This girl is the chosen one. She beat the system. She proved ladies can become ridiculously successful and attractive to other ridiculously successful people on personality alone. Heck, she proved that an ugly girl can make an ENTIRE nation go bananas for her for an entire decade.

This woman dated THE Robert Downey Jr. You know, the sex symbol. He was in love with her in the craziest way. If that was all personality and no looks... damn. This girl must have the personality of Jesus himself. Or Jack Nicholson.

Then, she married Farris Bueller. You know, the guy you had a crush on as a kid. Matthew Broderick. A shorter-term sex symbol, but a sex symbol nonetheless. AND crazy talented, with zillions of dollars that could buy him any perfect lady on the Hollywood circuit. But no, he wanted SJP. And still does.

But heck if she needs any Broderick money. She was America's It girl from 1998-2004. Heck, some might argue she never lost her It girl status. If we, the American public, chose Sarah Jessica Parker as our It girl solely on a personality basis, with full knowledge of her hideous ugliness... then we're really good people. We don't need looks. We want SJP. We want bubbly relatability, no matter what the package. We want a woman who produces her own ridiculously popular television show, no matter her genetics. We're no shallow television viewing public - we're a bunch of people who care about what's inside, about character. Not about outward appearances.

That is, if Sarah Jessica Parker is actually ugly.

Maybe she's actually alright looking. Maybe she's a decent looking female with an unconventional but attractive face. Most likely, right?

But, now that I look at it, it seems better for us if Sarah Jessica Parker actually is ugly - it certainly says better things about our society.

If SJP is actually hideous, it certainly gives me hope.