Thinner and Prettier

Copyright 2006 LFWADE
Body Dysmorphic Disorder

People who have Body Dysmorphic Disorder become obsessive about some aspect of their looks; in the US this is commonly used to refer to people who are anorexic but cannot see that they are too thin (Hello, Lindsey Lohan? Nicole Richie?). However, it can refer to any physical attribute that a person might obsess over. Apparently, it is most common to be some item of the head – hair (or lack thereof), nose (size and shape), and symmetry of the face. People with BDD obsessively check out their perceived problem in the mirror and despite the fact that they might have a perfectly normal looking nose they perceive that it is hideously deformed.

I have the inverse problem. I will call it Body Abnegation Disorder – that way I get the acronym BAD – commonly known as denial. In my own head I am a thinner, prettier woman. I do not obsessively check my appearance in mirrors; instead I catch a glimpse of myself in a reflection and think, “Damn, who is that unkempt fat girl.” It’s not a derogatory or self deprecating comment. I am honestly surprised at my appearance some times. It doesn’t just apply to my weight. Sometimes it’s how long I’ve let my roots grow out, or the stunning realization that I have a large tattoo on my back.

However, this is undoubtedly the problem that allows me to get overweight. I don’t notice that I am getting fatter. Because I carry my weight pretty well other people don’t tend to notice either. I, like many women, keep a variety of sizes in my closet, so when my weight slides up or down I merely adjust my wardrobe to fit. This complicates dieting because; I don’t think I am fat. Why diet if you don’t need to?

Clearly* the problem is that I am too comfortable with myself and was taught too much self acceptance as a child. I cannot remedy this problem with the common cures: hypercritical parents, school yard taunting, or name calling, as they must be applied during the formative childhood years. So I will have to take dramatic self measures to fight my battle with BAD.

1. All mirrors will be re-installed to reflect not just my neck and head, but also my torso and ass.
2. I will force myself to really look at my reflection on a daily basis.
3. When I am done with one size of clothes I will get rid of it, rather than holding it in reserve, in case I need it again.

Some people with BAD have to take more severe measures including such shame inducing behaviors as: streaking, bikini wearing, VPL’s, and VBL’s.

I will stop short of any mantras – no good can come of chanting “I am fat”. And I will not form a support group (Hello, my name is Leah, and I don’t think these jeans make my ass look big.) I will ask for honest opinions from my spouse and not pout when he tells me that those jeans “aren’t my favorite.” (Which is as close to telling me that I look bad in them as he will ever get).

I know that some self awareness is in order here and I am definitely trying to achieve a healthy body rather than a thinner size. The sad part of all of this is that when I do reach my goals of size and shape I don’t benefit from a positive self esteem change. After all, I have always been thinner and prettier.




Unnecessary Disclaimer: People that have BDD suffer from a clinical disease and require help and support to fight massive internal demons. For a good reference about BDD see: http://www.btinternet.com/~david.veale/bddinfo.html. All this being said, I am NOT MAKING FUN OF Body Dysmorphic Disorder, I am making fun of myself.

*Clearly: a word meaning, the following statement is full of crap and has no tangible or empirical evidence of any kind to back it up. Used to imply sarcasm.

You'd think I'd know by now...

Copyright 2006 LFWADE

To make a mental note re: the following:

- No matter how hard I want it to, the dryer will not dry clothes until I turn it on. Nor will the oven cook anything unless it is turned on.
- There is no way I will win the lottery without buying a ticket.
- Smell the milk before you pour it.
- It is not a good thing when the dogs get really quiet.
- The time to check for your house keys is before you pull the locked door securely shut.
- If I put celery or potato peelings down our garbage disposal it will get clogged; and I will have to put my hand in it to fish it all out. YUCK.
- The cell phone will run out of battery if you do not plug it in at least occasionally.
- The day I decide to make a big meal without planning it with my spouse will be the night he wants to treat me to dinner.
- If I put food in the trashcan in the den the dog WILL turn it over and root through it.
- If I stir-fry I will put on the exhaust fan or the smoke detector will go off.
- I don’t have to answer the phone every time it rings.
- The plants will not thrive unless I water them every now and then.
- The one load of laundry I choose not to do will contain the precise item of clothes that I really want to wear.
- The only way to loose weight is to diet and exercise.
- Claim your own successes even if it is hanging nine picture frames exactly plumb and level.
- The world will not end if I do not read the funnies every day.
- I do not need to monitor the contents of the kitchen cabinets at all times; it is permissible to close them.
- When I wake up five minutes before my alarm is supposed to get up I could just get up then.
- If you use the last of the toilet paper and fail to replenish it you may be the person stuck on the john without any.
- Picking at acne does not help it get better.

Found Food

I just returned home from a ten day long trip. After I unpacked the luggage and collected the dogs, I settled back into daily life. Two days after my return I opened up my freezer to discover that the woman who volunteered to feed our fish and water our plants had stocked our freezer with our favorite Indian treat, Samosas. This touched me in a deep way. She not only took the time and effort to make these delectable treats for us, but that she left them as a surprise. Once before, I was treated to accidental or surprise food from a house sitter.
We returned home late one evening last winter to find freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the counter left by an enterprising friend who used our oven. Close your eyes and imagine the scent of freshly baked cookies when you open the door, tired from a long trip. There is nothing short of bliss in that experience. These unexpected gifts of food led me to think about found food.
There are the little immediate satisfaction surprises: the escapee fries that jump out of their packaging into the fast food bag. They are quickly eaten if found hot; otherwise discarded once cold. Also there is the “last piece” of anything. It is a naughty joy to discover that you are the only person with the guts (courage or room therein) enough to claim the last piece of pizza, pie, or chicken.
There is also the Gilligan’s Island of food: the castaways. Voted off the island as leftovers these can be the bitter disappointments of the accidental food world. Sometimes only CSI-style investigation can determine there original contents. Sometimes they are found a day too late and are accompanied by the exclamation, “Damn, if I known there was another rib left I would have eaten it!”
I try to remember not to send my doggie bag off on a three hour tour unless I have a contingency plan for rescuing it. My husband’s favorite spin-off of the castaway is food Booty. Booty is when my castaways are surreptitiously eaten before they can be rescued. The true food pirate will not be stopped by such feeble attempts to protect a castaway as brown paper bags labeled “Mine” or being buried deep in the crisper drawer. The food pirate is usually protected by an unbreakable alibi, “I had to eat it before it went bad.”
My favorite are the King Tut Treats. These are the true treasure in the forgotten food world. Tut Treats were long ago buried, but due to their packaging or preservatives survive long periods of time unfound. These include sealed bags of chips, Halloween candy (as long as its not Easter), and speaking of Easter Peeps fall into this category too. A long lost chocolate bar is worth its weight in gold when found unexpectedly. Along with the Tut Treats are Encino food.
Encino food was buried in the freezer to be thawed later. Finding a forgotten bag of Christmas cookies in January is a great surprise. For those who often freeze food the last container of turkey soup is a true treat. This is potentially dangerous territory if freezer burn has set in; but can be a real lifesaver.
Mostly found food arises out of neglect or forgetfulness. But when food is not found unexpectedly, but left intentionally, it feels like little packages of love.

I couldn’t close this discussion without saying, “Look Homie, someone left a turkey behind the bed.”

I am not funny...

I have always longed to be funny. I should be clear; I do not want to be a clown. I do not want people to laugh at me, but laugh with me. I am insanely and unforgivably jealous of funny people. We all know them – witty and clever - they always know what to say to lighten a mood. We all seem smarter when we are around them and we leave their presence energized and aglow. I decided about nine years ago that if I studied enough funny people I would be able to emulate their actions and become funny myself. It hasn’t worked; and I have wasted the last decade being terminally unfunny. But I have developed a hypothesis of humor and will keep trying.

There are three tenants of humor and three corollaries.

THE FIRST RULE OF FUNNY: the human body is funny. Body parts are funny. Bodily functions are funny. Unexpected bodily noises are really funny. We learn potty humor as ankle biters and our fascination with it rarely wanes through life (I would say it escalates dramatically when we learn the rudimentary elements of sex). To this day the word ‘poo’ (always lowercase) never fails to make me smile if not provoking outright laughter. Physical comedy falls into this category: President Ford falling down, George Bush senior vomiting on foreigners (see rule two), and the ubiquitous ball in the crotch gag are all funny.

THE SECOND RULE OF FUNNY: people who are different than you and your audience are funny. This is the most controversial of the rules of funny. It is most commonly used when lampooning a group that is not likely to be offended – this is the its-funny-cause-its-true category and results in some hard and fast results. The image of a white man attempting to dance will ALWAYS make people laugh (sorry guys). The native American Eskimo is funny to 99% of Americans under the ‘I’m so politically correct that I will make sure to include every group in my attempt at humor’ theorem. This also trickles down to the Amish. Please remember to use RULE TWO for good and not for evil. Bigotry is NEVER funny. Jokes meant to harm or hurt are never funny – unless it is a fat white man dancing.

THE THIRD RULE OF FUNNY: gender bending is funny. This is not necessarily a gay thing or a sexual thing. It has much more to do with challenging the common perception of gender roles. Monty Python made careers out of cross-dressing. Metrosexuals are funny in and of themselves. Show a pretty lady with a deep voice or put a guy in women’s under ware and you have a recipe for hilarity.

COROLLARY NUMBER ONE: add the word ‘Monkey’ to anything and it is funny. The word Monkey is full of the power of funny because of its sound and imagery . Monkeys, an imperfect mirror of humans, make a great humor tool. Monkeys acting like people are simply funny. Plus just saying the word tends to make me happy. Say it with me: Mon-KEY. Combine the First Rule of Funny with Corollary one and you get a sure fire comedy tool, e.g. Monkey Butt. Plus no other creature can do justice to a reliable comedy favorite: flinging poo.

COROLLARY NUMBER TWO: when you rhyme its humor time. Ask any linguist and you will find that rhyming is an established technique for diminishing the seriousness of a situation or poking fun at it. When I tease my friend for being ‘fancy-dancy’ I am not trying to recapture my role as the queen of the school yard limerick but to poke fun at her attempt to be sophisticated by pairing the word fancy with a rhyming word. This is often used dismissively, as in ‘God-Shmod’. We can thank the Jewish for this Yiddish language tool (thanks to my literary sister for bringing me that revelation). Even the potential rhyme has humor power. All I have to do is write, ‘There once was a guy from Nantucket’ and humor ensues.

COROLLARY NUMBER THREE: Three Second Rule: Any one thing, sustained without changing (noise, pun, punch line, movement, or visual) is only funny for three seconds. Combine this with any of the rules or corollaries for maximum effect.

Unfortunately for me my home study of humor has not made me a funny person. I lack an essential ingredient: timing. Watch any of the greats, the Marx Brothers, Bill Murry, Richard Pryor, Phyllis Diller, Ellen Degeneres, or Tina Fey, they all have GREAT timing. I am sure that this can be learned in some formulaic way: tie an early joke back in later in your material or don’t rush the punch-line. But I have yet to master any of these skills and must rely on my Rules of Funny and my scant abilities.

There is hope for those of us who lack humor. Our saving grace is available to everyone above the age four: the JOKE. Prepared and practiced by thousands before us; they are time tested smile inducers that rarely fail to please. Even a four year old knows the power of ‘knock-knock’ or ‘why did the chicken cross the road’. Everyone should know at least one ‘clean’ joke. It should have no bad words, no sexual double entendre, and no racism/sexism/or ageism. My philosophy 101 teacher said this all the time. It was even the last question on our midterm exam: ‘Question 50. Tell your favorite (CLEAN) joke.’ I got full points for this gem: What is white and yellow and green and blue and pink and purple and green and white? Crayon sandwich. Everyone needs a joke to call their own, to tell in mixed company or to amuse those you seek to impress. I have a really funny one but it involves calling Superman an a-hole so it doesn’t really count as ‘Clean’.

So until that day that I can fully channel Gilda Radner I am forced to wallow in a sea of unfunny. But I will keep working on my rules and collecting more jokes. I have been working on a new technique common to the funny – self-depreciation (see title) and will see where that takes me. I am forced to admit that the answer may be, ‘yes, you are not funny’. But that’s where the self-depreciation comes in.

Copyright Leah France Wade February 2005.

The three second rule

I am always thinking about what is funny. I really have studied funny to enhance my own funniness - but that's another post...

I am constantly puzzled why my dear husband laughs his ass off while we watch Family Guy and all I can manage is a smile. Last night I figured it out. They hold beats WAY too long. Saturday Night Live had this same problem in the late 1990s. A guy stubbing his toe is funny. Him holding and moaning "OWWW" is funny; but it is not funny for 15 seconds.

This thought crystallized in my mind when my husband was making a funny noise last night - but he wouldn't stop. At first it was funny but then it became seriously annoying. Same thing with Family Guy. Maybe its because I am so ADD but I can't pay attention to the same concept that long and think it is funny. Change it up - I'll stick with it, but I am not one to tolerate 'milking it for all its worth'. Arrested Development clings tightly to this idea - they don't need a laugh track to let us know its funny. The jokes come rolling down the mountain without a seconds pause.

So, I came up with the three second rule. Its a corollary to the rules of funny. Any one thing, sustained without changing (noise, pun, punch line, movement, or visual) is only funny for three seconds.

Bodily noises easily fit into this category. Anything longer is the equivalent of saying "d'you get it? d'you get it? d'you get it?" So, no longer will I laugh at the prolonged burp. Time yourself, you don't need more than 3 seconds to fart. No longer will I laugh at high pitched voice that drones on after a ball-in-the-crotch shot. Unite with me and ignore all attempts to drag comedy out past the three second mark where all it does is annoy.
I think this rule may only apply to women - men seem to like the prolonged pain of listening to terrible noises go on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on.