Brand: Edy's® Slow Churned® lite ice cream
Flavor: Take the Cake
Description: Yellow cake flavored light ice cream with frosting swirl and multicolored sprinkles.
My unforgiveable sin: It contains an opaque teal swirl not unlike the nasty IHOP WhoCakes syrup. I did not know this swirl was hiding inside the carton when I purchased it a PMS-induced sugar frenzy but I must say, it's seriously disturbing (that I've kept eating the ice cream, I mean.) Don't get me wrong - I've been furiously and diligently digging out the swirl with my spoon and dumping as much infected ice cream in the sink but a few dribbles inevitably wind up in my mouth and I just CRINGE knowing that I am consuming something not found in anyone's nature - not even on Mars. Seriously, the thought goes through my mind, "MizFit would throw up if she knew I was doing this" - and I DON'T EVEN KNOW THE WOMAN! See how we all seep into each other's psyches?

The easy thing would be to throw out the carton but I have a weird, Depression era-esque thing about conserving food so it shall emain in my freezer. Hopefully all the edamamae, frozen chicken breasts and shrimp, whole-grain waffles, Ketel One vidka and other healthy fare in there will intimidate the Edy's into the back of the shelf, where it will remain for weeks, developing blue frostbite and never again infiltrating my mouth.

Confession complete.

Please, please do tell me - what crappy food do you find yourself ating even though you know it's about as natural as Posh Spice?

I stretched by body out, all cat-like and sinewy, rubbed the sparkles from my eyes and made a very fateful decision. "Today," I announced, "is the perfect day to wear my fake butt."

Padded boo-tays are all the rage these days - I had recently heard about Bubbles Bodywear, when a reader left a comment, as well as BootyPop, which counts Kelly Ripa as a fan (Note: Do NOT go to bootypop.com or you may be fired from your job. It's mybootpop.com Those two little letters make a world of difference, trust me - I just pulled up some extremely naughty images in the middle of a kid-infested Starbucks.)

So I wrote to the company and requested back-up reinforcements. An abundance of pink boyshorts arrived, along with separate circular padded inserts. I looked at some before-and-after pics and started to get tres excited.

I know you're all wondering how amazing my butt looked, so here is a self-portrait of my tush pre-Bubbles (and my foray in posting personal photos on the web - watch out Miley, here I come!):

And here I am, after the jump, my badunk-a-dunk firmly in place:

Big difference, right?

And yes, I did wear them out in public, all day and all night long. I picked last Monday, the day I flew to NYC for a Today Show appearance (ironically, the topic was 5 Ways Women Sabotage Their Body Image). But the point here was to see if a bigger but boosted my self-esteem, so I strapped 'em on under my Sevens (made it a bit harder to button/zip up, but I was OK), turning them into hot-to-trot Twelves :-)

Slipping the boyshorts on reminded of how much I hate any pair of underwear that is not a thong. My theory: Because my natural posterior is on the flatter side, any and every inch of material is going to migrate up my crack anyway. Why not save the hassle and material and wear a G string? But once my Bubbles are firmly in place, I see that when one actually has a rounder tush, her panties (yeah, I said the P word) don't slide up to No Man's Land.

8:20am I run into the bedroom where Dan is still sleeping and start yelling and screaming for him to "look at my new butt!" He is very tired but musters the energy to prop himself up on one elbow (note: the fact that his wife is running around like a banshee, hollering about her butt at 8am, does not even cause him to blink an eye. He is quite used to such antics by this point.) "How lucky do you feel to have a wife that pulls stunts like this?!" I ask/demand. He firmly swats me in the ass to show his appreciation and we are both struck by the resounding, hollow "Thwuhp!" that fills the room; usually, such a move would emit a hard "Thwack!"

8:45 am I bend over and Dan plays bongo drums on my Bubbles in some form of bizarre new-wave mating ritual. Then I leave for O'hare.

9:35 am In the airport security line, I am momentarily struck by panic that the guard will ask me to remove my fake booty and place it in a bin for inspection.

9:36 I get called for a pat-down. I am not kidding. Apparently, my booty feels quite natural to the woman who feels me up and down because she waves me through and no fake-ass sensors sound.

10:20-noon I nap on the plane and get some much needed Booty Sleep

The rest of the day, nothing huge happens. I was thinking I'd get a crapload of second-glances and compliments but really, nothing is different, except I do walk the streets of NY with a little more sass in my step. I admire my profile often in store windows and, upon meeting my iVillage editors for dinner, turn around in the middle of a nice restaurant and, pointing to my patootie, announce, "Look what I'm doing for Weighting Game!! How much do I love my readers?!" They each feel me up as our fellow diners sample their fancy olive oil flights and cast askew glances our way.

That night, I whine to Dan on the phone that no one really said anything nice - unprompted, I mean - about my butt. "I didn't even get anything free!" I moaned. "Leslie, it's not like you look like Kim Kardashian or anything," he explained, talking me down with a reassuring yet let's-get-real manner. "Besides, you always look great." Whoo, doggie. Looks like someone is gonna score him some glutes when I get home!

PS May I point out that all of this happened three days before the research about a big bottom possibly protect people against diabetes hit the stands? I am so ahead of my time. A visionary, really.

PS, Look - they have it for boys, too!

For boy's fronts!!

And I will close with this fannytabulous ad.

Considering May is National Family Wellness Month (it's also Mental Health Awareness Month, Better Sleep Month, National Teen Pregnancy Prevention Month, National Physical Fitness and Sports Month and Celebrate Older Adults Month, all of which are somehow related to Mother's Day!)

25 million children are affected by childhood obesity...is yours one of them? Do they move more with Wii than on the actual basketball courts or think ketchup counts as a veggie? Or are the little ones starting to make unintentionally absurd comments like, "Mommy, I don't want a banana - my teacher says it has too much sugar!" (True story from a mom friend of mine.) Or do you simply want to ask a nationally recognized expert a burning question about feeding your kids but don't want to fork over th cash to hire a personal nutritionist? Well, then...here's your chance! Type your question in the Comments section and I'll submit a bunch to Felicia, who will provide the As to your Qs.

PS She's a smart cookie: Masters of Science in applied physiology and nutrition education; dietetic internship at Columbia University; doctorate in clinical nutrition from the University of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey; mom of two; gets along well in Jersey.)

XOXO and lots of love to all of the fabulous, hardworking moms out there - Charlotte, MizFit, Workout Mommy, Alyssa, FitSugar, Dara and everyone else...you're doing beautifully!

Lucky for you, I've been scouring my US Weekly for topless pics of Patrick Dempsey the hottest workout tips out there - all extremely safe and nutritionally sound, of course - and I came across an article titled, "Lose 20 pounds IN 6 WEEKS." Trainer Tracy Anderson, who barks orders at Madonna and Gwynnie P. , swears her 1100 calorie/day diet (TOO LOW!!) and patented toning moves will get you fit, fab and ferosh. My personal fave?

"With feet shoulder-width apart, bend one wrist and pull across body, arm straight, in a smacking motion across your body. Alternate arms."

Oh, really? That's how Madge got her rock-hard arms...by pretendig to be one of those kiddie drums that you twist back and forth between your hands, making the beads swing around on the ends of the strings? Color me surprised.

I wonder what MizFit , she of the heavenly arms, would have to say about this?

OK, off to go slap my limbs across my chest like a flailing monkey!

Leslie

When I see these poor, fat Japanese monkeys, I can't help but

• Feel angry —how could the zoo let this happen?
• Not be surprised—obesity in humans is skyrocketing...why not apes?
• Yawn—there are bigger fish to fry

]]> tag:theweightinggame.ivillage.com,2008:/dietfitness//85.83222 2008-05-06T21:40:58Z 2008-05-06T22:26:17Z

Then read it out loud to yourself.

Hearing yourself actually say the words, “My thighs are disgusting” or “I could never have as flat a stomach as her” can be quite a wake-up call. And here’s the message waiting for you on the other line: “You’re being way, way too hard on yourself.”

Why is it that so many of us treat our bodies and ourselves with so little love or compassion? We would never say these things to a friend or to our mothers. But in our minds, we let the self-hate fly free, and the results can be destructive.

It’s called self-sabotage. It’s something many of us partake in and something we need to start working on eradicating. Here are a few of the most common types —and some possible solutions - include:

Self-sabotaging behavior #1: Comparing ourselves with other women, be they celebrities or the woman standing in front of us at Starbucks. I'm guilty of doing this too. I hardly ever turn my head to look at a man on the street, but other women? Watch out! So many of us size ourselves up to other women, even if they have wildly different body types (i.e. stick-thin model type on the streets of NY; the curvy and voluptuous celeb chef on TV; our buff trainer at the gym). This will always make us feel badly and, in some cases, will even lead to bashing of other women. (Picture yourself walking down the street with a friend, and a woman walks by with an incredible figure. You and your friend look at each other, roll your eyes and say, "Hate her!" It happens to the best of us.)

Save yourself: It’s unrealistic to think we can simply stop comparing ourselves to those around us, but how about flipping the script and complimenting the other woman with the toned yoga shoulders or the gorgeous purse or the strawberry blond hair? Research shows that complimenting someone—whether it has to do with their looks or not —improves her mood and I’m willing to bet it’ll make you feel better, too. Try it. I do this at least once a day, and it does feel great.

Self-sabotaging behavior #2: Body checking This is basically the over-evaluation of one's shape and weight via any number of methods, such as:

Save yourself: Of course you need your mirror to make sure you don’t poke your eye out with the mascara wand, or to check and see if your pantyhose are tucked into your skirt. But the mirror turns from friend to foe when you look into it expecting to see something bad. If you use it to constantly monitor your belly or breasts or thighs, you are just looking for trouble. Try limiting the times you check yourself out—even if it’s little by little. You may find your stress levels decrease. Also, remember that you are more than a collection of body parts—there’s a whole body there, not to mention a beautiful mind. You are not your arms or your calves or your butt.

Also? Don’t pinch fat or skin, or really anything on your body. Pie crusts are for pinching, not your waistline.

Self-sabotaging behavior #3: Eating like a bird on a date. Why do so many women think the words, “I'll have a diet coke and salad, no dressing, please" makes them more appealing? Here’s why: In the journal Sex Roles, a recent study showed that when subjects read phony food diaries—some were of women who ate small meals, while others were about women who ate larger meals—the small eaters were perceived to be more feminine, more concerned about appearance, and better-looking than the larger eaters! So basically, we've got these cultural notions that women should be eating less, and we’re totally buying into it by forgoing the steak au poivre for a salad. And besides sabotaging your body (um, hello, aren't you hungry?), you’re also starting off a potential relationship on a false note.

Save yourself: Eat. Ordering a low-cal entrée will leave you unsatisfied and seeming anxious, and is the perfect setup for a binge later on. This doesn’t mean you should order deep-dish pizza every night, but do try to listen to what your real gut is telling you. If you need protein, steamed broccoli ain’t gonna cut it.

This is the Weighting Game and This. Is. The. Future.

A future free from scary, empty-eyed brunettes who threaten to suck your very soul through your lips with their zombie-like powers and magical measuring tape.

A future full of swingy hair and cute yoga tops and curiously even city skylines.

A future where, yes, you can balance a cupcake/whopie pie with working out and just enjoying life in general.

Welcome.

1) Asking the airline attendant for a large pitcher of sangria, extra fruit, when she pushes the cart by me, then cursing the hell out of her (or him, OK!?) in my limited, broken Spanish when she informs me all they have is OJ or Sierra Mist.

2) Attaching a pinata in the shape of the $18 turkey sandwich I was forced to purchase pre-board to the ceiling and giving all my fellow passengers a go.

3) Demanding sopapillas and nachos with homemade guacamole, no beans and individually placed pieces of iceberg lettuce hand-shredded to the exact same width and height in the Green Room at Today. If a single nacho does not appear to have the delicious taste and texture of a personally-cut and flash-fried tortilla, I will pitch a hideous hissy fit.

4) Walking up to strangers on the streets of New York and explaining that, according to wikipedia.com, Cinco de Mayo commemorates an initial victory of Mexican forces led by General Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín over French forces in the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862. If they ignore me, I will follow them, continuing to scream, "It's a common misconception in the United States that Cinco de Mayo is Mexico's Independence Day; in fact, Mexico's Independence Day is actually September 16 (dieciséis de septiembre in Spanish), which is the most important national patriotic holiday in Mexico."

5) Showing up for dinner tonight with my iVillage editors wearing a traditional long, ruffled, flowing skirt and brightly colored shawl, my hair tied back in long, flowing, multi-hued ribbons. When they look at me with jealousy flaring in their eyes like I'm a freak, I will point out the numerous other holidays our country has co-opted as an excuse to drink (St. Patrick's Day, Oktoberfest, Chinese New Year, Passover) and demand a lime margarita on the rocks, extra salt.

Adios, amigas!

I'm going to be appearing on the Today Show on Tuesday, discussing common ways we women sabotage our body image (Whoopie Pies not included). Can you help me out by answering the poll below and leaving comments? I'd really appreciate the feedback.

Thanks! xo

leslie

Do you engage in any of the following body image bad behaviors?

• Obsessing over a body part in the mirror
• Comparing myself with other women
• Squeezing myself into my "skinny jeans"
• Eating like a bird on a date or with girlfriends

]]> tag:theweightinggame.ivillage.com,2008:/dietfitness//85.83087 2008-05-02T15:37:08Z 2008-05-02T15:51:34Z

Note: This is not a picture of me. I have much longer hair.

Plato may have once said, of old age: "A great sense of calm and freedom. When the passions have relaxed their hold, you may have escaped, not from one master but from many."

But it was the fabulous and wise-before-her-years Miss Britney Spears who said, "I'm not a girl, not yet a woman."

Go Britney! Go Britney!

I don't feel the slightest bit old as I turn 32, although I certainly have matured a bit since my 30th birthday bash, which featured an extravagant Hello Kitty theme, a face cake (a glamour shot of my book jacket photo airbrushed onto a gigantic slab of buttercream) as well as a signature cocktail called the Lollytini, after my nickname (Lolly, not Teeny!) I am writing all day today - so many assignments - and am totally hopped up on Americanos and fun phone calls. I am freaking out on work and love. CAN YOU TELL?!

Anyhow, send me lots of b-day love and watch the following hysterical video card my dad emailed me - it is amazing in only the way a talking egg video can be.

PS: Proof that the squeaky wheel gets the grease -- yesterday, I was shopping in Express for absolutely no reason at all and I tried on a purple ruffled dress and I just kind of, off-the-cuff, asked the cashier, "So...you don't by any chance offer birthday discounts?" And she said, "No, we don't...but I can give you $25 off since you're spending more than $50." I shrieked, mild chaos ensued, and I snagged the dress for $56.24.

Gotta speak up girls, right? Like me and my gyno - open that mouth and say something. You never know what'll happen!

Or, like my grandma recently said to me, "Oh, Les, I'm getting so old - I had a gynecologist's appointment and a dental exam today and I didn't know whether to open my legs or shut my mouth." Truer words have never been spoken.

1) If you want to read about how shamefully and abhorrently non-green I am, check out my blog at
Green is Universal. Honestly, I'm so eco-unfriendly, I might as well dig a hole in my backyard and start pouring liquified lead into it with one hand while continuously spraying hairspray into the air at the same time. And then go for a ride in a Hummer with the Backstreet Boys blaring (noise pollution.) Boo on me. Begin hate mail now - but please do make it email because you really should care more about the trees.

NOTE: My green blog made me feel like a pus-filled boil on the ass of humanity and as a result, in the last two weeks, I have done the following - I swear!:
*Bought a rcycling bin for paper as well as plastic/metal.
*Emailed my gym owner about getting recyling bins for all of those plastic cups.
*Switched another bill over to auto-pay.
*Recycled wire hangers and the cleaners and plastic bags at the grocery store.
*Dramatically and self-righteously turned my husband's faucet off while he brushed his teeth, thereby ruining a cute moment we were having staring into each other's eyes through the mirror while using our electric toothbrushes. Bad for the boudoir, good for the environment!

2) 31-cent ice cream at Baskin-Robbins tonight!! (PS I havea cute engagement story to tell y'all that involves this event - not in a sexual way, no - but will have to elaborate at a future time.

3) Because we simply can't go a third day without a pic of a nude celeb, I give you this. Not to hate on the girl, but just to further open you eyes to the realities of what women actually look like, versus what happens when tech nerd gets a hold of her.

Off like a prom dress!

Don't kids do the darnedest things?!

Not that this should surprise you, what with Linday Lohan posing naked and High School Musical star Vanessa Hudgens taking naked pics of herself and Dakota Fanning getting all dolled up for Marc Jacobs (not to mention the sexual assault scene she filmed, at age 12, for Hounddog), but now everyone is all, "Miley Cyrus posed naked!" about her Vanity Fair cover.

Golf claps for the public's faux-shock.

Please. This kind of crap happens All. The. Time.

Now, Miley is apologizing for the pic, saying, ""I took part in a photo shoot that was supposed to be 'artistic' and now, seeing the photographs and reading the story, I feel so embarrassed...I never intended for any of this to happen and I apologize to my fans who I care so deeply about."

I was interviewed yesterday by abcnews.com, and I think they captured my feelings well with the following quotes (PS Shout-out to Weighting Game in the article!!):

"I wouldn't call it a nude photo, but it is suggestive. She has that 'come hither' look on her face and the sexy little pout. Part of me says, 'who wants to blame her in our society where young women are becoming sexual objects at such a young age?' But another part of me says, 'her parents were on the set and could have said something.'...I think the danger is a young girl who looks up to Miley, sees the picture and thinks how sexy she looks and [how] beautiful she wants to be. The next thing you know, she and her girlfriend have their photos on YouTube."

The kicker, and what concerns me most: The message young girls draw from these types of images is "I need to take my clothes off to be loved," Goldman said. This, my friends, is why we're talking about this on WG - body image is a factor. A young woman deriving her sense of confidence from semi-nudity is a problem. Need I mention the fact her ribs are showing in the back?

This is a 15-year-old girl. Let's call a spade a spade - these are sexualized mages of a teenager. And I'm not really placing blame on the photographer...Annie Leibovitz is incredibly respected and was doing her job, a job whose context, it appears, was understood at the get-go by all parties involved. I mean, hello, taking off your top and covering your chest with a satin sheet does not a Bible-thumping conservative pictorial make. And there have been pics of Miley at the shoot smiling and giggling. She was not, it appears, uncomfortable.

Rather, she is doing what our society has told her to do. What countless starlets before her have done. Disrobe...feel beautiful...be loved. (Note, I do feel the ABC story took my quotes a bit too far when they said I place full blame on the media - I understand Miley has a mind of her own and no one overtly held her down and screamed, "You will take these photos for Vanity Fair!"

15-year-old Miley Cyrus posing topless/backless:

• What's the big deal?
• Totally exploitative

It's probably not helping matters that this whole Vanity Fair scandale is occuring in the wake of those bra shots of a possible Miley.

Also, is this pic of Miley and her daddy creeping anyone else out as much as me?

The last time I was sprawled out across my dad like that, I was six years old and vomiting up funnel cake after a spin on the ferris wheel.

]]> tag:theweightinggame.ivillage.com,2008:/dietfitness//85.82848 2008-04-28T14:36:46Z 2008-04-28T19:23:03Z