Remembrances of Other People I Like To Think I Can Relate To

Sometimes a day will go by where I do things, and all the while I think, "I really wish I had gotten more ready today." And then I don't like that I think that. I should be able to be the same person no matter what level of effort I put into looking as "ready" as possible. But in reality, that's hard for me. And I think its a pretty universal thing to think like this.

I love Tina Fey, and her book Bossypants is one that I would recommend to, well, mostly to girls, but I think anyone who likes Tina Fey humor would like it. And I'm glad that someone probably broke copyright laws and posted this one part online, because it's one of my favorites, and I have just been thinking about it. Also it (kind of) related:

Remembrances of Being Very Very Skinny

For a brief time at the turn of the century, I was very skinny. This is what I remember about that period.

• I was cold all the time.

• I had a pair of size-four corduroy short shorts. That I wore. To work. In the middle of Manhattan.

• I loved it when people told me I was getting too thin.

• I once took a bag of sliced red peppers to the beach as a snack.

• I regularly ate health food cookies so disgusting that when I enthusiastically gave one to Rachel Dratch she drew a picture of a rabbit and broke the cookie into a trail of tiny pieces coming out of the rabbit’s butt.

• Men I had met before suddenly paid attention to me … and I hated them for it.

• Sometimes I had to sleep with a pillow between my legs because my bony knees clanking together kept me awake.

• I had a lot of time on my hands because I wasn’t constantly eating.

• I ran three miles a day on a treadmill six days a week.

• I felt wonderfully superior to everyone.

• I didn’t have a kid yet.

We should leave people alone about their weight. Being skinny for a while (provided you actually eat food and don’t take pills or smoke to get there) is a perfectly fine pastime. Everyone should try it once, like a super-short haircut or dating a white guy.

Remembrances of Being a Little Bit Fat

For a brief time at the end of that last century I was overweight. This is what I remember about that period.

• My boobs were bigger.

• I once left a restaurant in the middle of dessert to get to Krispy Kreme before it closed.

• Even though I only liked McDonald’s fries, I believed it was more nutritious to make a meal of it and have two cheeseburgers as well.

• If I was really ambitious, I would get a Whopper Jr at Burger King and then walk to McDonald’s to get the fries. The shake could be from anywhere.

• I could not run a mile.

• I wore oversize men’s overalls that I loved.

• Guys who were friends did not want to date me … and I hated them for it.

• On at least three occasions, I vomited on Christmas Eve from mixing chocolate, peel-and-eat shrimp, summer sausage and cheese. No alcohol was involved.

• As a size 12, I took pride that I was “real woman”-sized. “Size 12 is the national average,” I would boast, “no matter what magazines try to tell you.”

• Once, while ironing in my underwear, I grazed my protruding belly with the hot iron.

We should leave people alone about their weight. Being chubby for a while (provided you don’t give yourself diabetes) is a natural phase of life and nothing to be ashamed of. Like puberty or slowly turning into a Republican.