The World is Shrinking

The other day, I was in my company kitchen, heating up my new obsession


when I hear someone calling my name from the hallway.

I looked up and saw one of my co-workers who I don't really know that well, other than to chit chat about food when we're heating up our respective lunches. I don't honestly know if I would recognize her outside of the office.

"Were you driving on the NY State Thruway on Sunday?" she asked me.

I was indeed.

"And were you driving in a Zipcar?"

Why the 2O questions, man?

"I totally saw you on the highway! I drove past you, realized it was you, and then hoped you'd catch up to me so I could wave!

But, you're a SLOW driver!"

I will have you all know I was doing 7O consistently the entire way. Not exactly crawling!

Either way, how the hell did she pick me out, on a highway of a zillion people? It's not like she knew I was going to be driving upstate in a big, conspicuous silver Outback with the name ZIPCAR emblazoned across the side of it.

Weird, right?

Overeater's Anonymous, I Need Your Help

So, today I was feeling a bit on the melancholy side, it being Monday and all, and I decided that I needed a "food is love" moment.
 
It happens (once a day) sometimes that I just need a sugary snack to quell my anxieties.  I'm a chick with a sweet tooth, and a derriere to prove it.
 
Today I couldn't pass up the most giantest of cupcakes--I knew it wasn't going to even compare to
these little balls of heaven, but hell, it was the next best thing.  So I bought it, and sheepishly snuck it into my office.
 
I knew it was a stupid thing to do, because I knew I was going to get "caught".  Not that I am a closet eater or anything like that, but the last thing someone who looks like me (read, not skinny) wants to do is be seen with a cupcake the size of my right tit (read, big) so that all the anorexic women in my office can look at me and sneer.
 
I took a bite of the cupcake and pushed it aside, almost hiding it behind a folder rack.  Maybe I wouldn't even eat the rest of it.  One bite was all I needed...
 
...and then, one of the aforementioned anorexic women decided to pay me a visit.
 
I could feel my palms get sweaty. I lost my train of thought. I tried to position myself in front of the cupcake so that she wouldn't be able to see it, sitting there, big bite taken out of it.  I felt confident that the cupcake was hidden from sight, until...
 
"What the hell is that?" she giggled and pointed.  Maybe she's talking about my parrot tiki mug?
 
No such luck.  I followed her gaze. She was giving my cupcake the evil eye.
 
"Jesus.  That thing is huge.  Look at that pile of frosting!" she shrieked.  Oh I didn't need to look.  I knew how big the pile was.  It was the size of a giant's fist.
 
I stammered, "I...uh...sometimes I just gotta....you know.....stress eat....going to gym...later..." as if this could make up for the deadly sin I was commiting, eating more than 1500 calories, in one sitting.
 
She continued on an on, discussing the sugar, the fat, the jitters I would get, the diabetic coma I was going to go into. She pulled another co-worker aside and said "Look how stressed out she is, she needs to eat such a thing."
 
I snapped back to my senses and finally started to get annoyed.  "The only thing I'm stressed out about is the fact that you are insisting on analyzing my food."
 
She finally got the message, and she and her bony ass left my cube.
 
I then proceeded to finish off the entire fucking cupcake, paper and all.  When that was gone, I ate my desk, my phone, and my cubemates.
 
The only thing that is left is this laptop, but rest assured, once I finish typing, it's going down the hatch, mateys.

Three Little Words That Mean So Much

Last week I spent 3-days out of the office at a photo shoot for work. Never a bad thing, to be sure. I get to be out of the office for most of the week, eat catered food to my hearts content, and hang out with cool people all day and feel like my job actually isn't that bad after all.

The shots involved 25 girls/women aged 26-4O. They were chosen for their "real people" look, as we wanted it to appear that we pulled them right off the street.

These "real" people were all a size 2 or smaller. There were always 4 or 5 of them in the studio at any given time, and we had to stare at them for hours on end.

Even my super skinny co-workers felt inadequate after three days of that!!

I found myself in a conversation with the mother of one of the 19 year olds, who accompanied her to the shoot. I asked her if her daughter did a lot of print, to which she replied, "She's too chubby for print. We're trying to get into acting now."

Chubby?

"Yes, we got her down to 115 lbs, but the agencies keep telling us it's not enough. She couldn't lose that last 5 pounds. Such a shame."

I snuck a peek at her beautiful daughter, who was probably 5'7" or so, and "too chubby" at 115 pounds, and I wanted to punch her mother's lights out. Mind you, her mother was obese, by the way...

After 3-days of this, my self esteem has taken a beating {not to mention, I'm now on a much needed diet}. However, in a co-worker's office yesterday, I was trying to describe to him the scene. "Flat chested women with the bodies of a 12 year old boy," is how I think I described it.

"I have three words for you," he said. "Men. Like. Boobs."

As he stared directly at my not-so-flat chest.

Can I get that tattooed on my ass?