No, not a blog break, just lazy.

Given that weeks tend to fly by between my blog postings, one could easily interpret my radio silence as being blog breaks...well, no. Back in the days of LiveJournal when it was fresh and new and you had to get a supersecret invite code and all that stuff, I would update that mother two, even three times a day. Now...now, it's like pulling teeth.

It's not that I don't have anything to say, but I'm a big fan of saying it only if no one else has covered it. And as of late, far better writers than I say it in such a more awesomey fashion.

For instance (oh yeah, it's shaping up to be a "let's link to other people's blog posts" kind of night)...the effervescent and all-around delightful Marianne Kirby at the Rotund. She rocked my athletic socks right the frig off my feet with her latest post - and it's one I'm keen to bookmark for future re-reads. It's something I try to remember when I get all fired up and clenchy about things - to me, as much as I personally am not down with dieting and all manner of gastric surgery, I have to be cool about people choosing those choices because I respect, above all things, body autonomy.

Where it gets muddy, though, is that more often than not, that respect for body autonomy is not returned. There are few things more irritating in my little world than being on the receiving end of Weight Loss Messiah-ing. I ditched a friendship because of it, and I damn near stopped talking to my sister because of it as well. And certainly society at large does NOT want you to make a choice that doesn't involve dieting for weight loss purposes or bariatric surgery. How often does Fat Acceptance get tagged as "giving up"? Like...constantly? Yet, inside my head, going back to my old habits of dieting and self-loathing and riding that unicycle of suck is my version of giving up.

I've got some horses I'd like to hop back upon - being more active is the main one. I've been doing a lot of thinking and mulling about my activity level, and I think one of the main reasons why I bailed on going to the gym (which I actually enjoyed - hopping on a machine hamster-style appealed to my love of routine) was that it fooled me, you see. When I was a regular gym goer, I was in Fat Acceptance Short Pants - I was in an internal war, torn between "I want to lose weight" and "I just want to be active and feeling good". I dropped some pounds and unfortunately, became entranced with that. And once I slammed up against that wall, like we all do, I stopped focusing on the "feeling good" and got mired in the "but why won't I lose any more weight" whining which led to "I don't feel like going to the gym/I'll go tomorrow/I'll go next week/I'll start up again on Monday/oh shit look my membership's expired". Now that my mind's far more aligned with where I need it to be, I find myself trapped in my personal routine and for those of you that are routine-minded as I am know damn well that breaking out of a routine is a gigantic pain in the ass. But perhaps, with this blog post, I will find the internal spark to find my way back to motivating my carcass hither and yon.

Or...I will continue to play Angry Birds until my pointer finger falls off. Yes, I KNOW the rest of the world totally knows about Angry Birds and playing Angry Birds. I'm the woman who is just figuring out Rick-Rolling, for Christ's sake. It's just...oh my stars, it's a festive little game. Perhaps I could do leg lifts while I'm playing it...well, if nothing else, I will have a most muscular pointer finger by the time I'm done with it. Read more on this article...

Quick Snits

Just a friendly reminder from Hollywood - it's impossible for George Clooney to act like he's falling in love with you if you're "as big as a house", according to producer Ivan Reitman. Reitman, one of the producers of son Jason's film, "Up In The Air", sat down at a round table with the Hollywood Reporter with other successful movie producers and brought up this delightful nugget when asked how his relationship with a director differs when the director happens to share his DNA: (bolding courtesy of me and the magical bolding feature)



Reitman: I have to stop being his father, I have to be his producer, which is a subtly different job. I'd say the biggest disagreement we had was over Vera Farmiga, who is a wonderful actress but she was eight months pregnant about two months before he started shooting. He said "Look, I wrote it for her, I think she'll be perfect." And she was as big as a house! As a producer, I have to say to him, "I know she's a great actress, she's going to be great in it, but she's got to be someone George Clooney is going to fall in love with." There were all kinds of actresses who wanted to play this part, bigger names than Vera was at that moment, so I kept saying, "Well, how about her?" But he just hung in there. I had to really defend his decision, and I know he agonized about it enormously. There were a couple rough opening scenes -- first days -- that he reshot at the end of the schedule to give her a little more time to get into shape. Apart from that, there was really no downside.

Behold, readers, Vera Farmiga pregnant:



And unpregnant at the Toronto International Film Festival premiere of "Up In The Air" earlier this year:



Oh Hollywood.

Fuck you.

Sincerely,

Jane C. Nolan

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