Tonight, we did something wild…

…and turned off the television.

As you know, I’m taking the summer off from many things and one of those happens to be sitting home night after night watching tv.  First of all, there’s nothing good on.  Secondly, it’s summer! and I don’t want to sit home doing nothing and being tempted to eat.  This is why I started doing theatre back in January 2009 again – gotta keep busy and outta the fridge every night.

Tonight, I had plans to come home and hop in the car to take a quick run to the beach club for a dip in the pool.  Unfortunately, it started raining, and the weather took and unfavorable turn even once the rain stopped.  No pool for me.

After a pretty sensible dinner at home and a solid hour and a half of TV shows we had DVR’d, I was bored.  I told Ran, “Okay, I’m done with TV for tonight” and we turned the sucker off.

Let’s face it – TV is great because it’s the ultimate tonic.  It lulls you to sleep, it distracts you from your problems, it keeps you chilled out on the couch, it never challenges you or makes you sweat.  I mean, there’s a reason they call it the boob tube, right?  I’m not saying I’m going to become one of those people who says, “Oh I don’t even own a TV” – because frankly, Ran will divorce me.  But seriously, people occupied themselves for thousands of years before there was TV, or Pinkberry or even a printed book.  We used to be more creative back then as a society.  People read books (once available), told stories, had conversations! Wild! Right?

While they were doing all this (telling of stories, etc) they were also not eating mindlessly.  The “snack” hadn’t been invented yet and in order to eat some food, you had to cook it, clean it, and in some cases, kill it!  It took a lot of effort to eat something, so you did it carefully.  You only ate when you were hungry, instead of out of boredom.  You didn’t just chomp into a bag of Doritos for fun!  (what an idea, eating crap for fun).

So Marie and Ran Isner took a stand on Monday night and stopped eating, stopped boob tubing and actually did something productive for once.  And, you know what?  We enjoyed it.  We had a few laughs, talked with each other, and worked on our wedding photo album.  Since our 1 year anniversary is rapidly approaching, it seemed time to actually sit down and do the album, with no distractions.

I challenge you to turn off the TV once in a while, or better yet, don’t even turn it on some nights and see what might develop.  Oh, and put down the Doritos, even for fun.

Collectible

Perfect little doll on my shelf

sweet as can be imagined

every inch of clay

delicately formed and delivered

to me like a birthday present

I want to unwrap you

every now and then

remove you from

protective covering

enjoy your delights

Take in your elegant costume

preen your collar and cuffs

sniff your aftershave

and wiggle your arms and legs

to make sure they still work

Twist your around

to make you dance with me

whisper secrets in your ear

Imagine all the lovely trinkets

you would give me

all the sugary compliments

Maybe even let you kiss me

a peck in the dark

Finally, I will tire

and want a new distraction

your delightful words and trinkets

no longer such a thrill

I will put you back

where you belong

your home, a hard shell

and firmly close the lid

slide you back onto the shelf

Don’t fret my friendly folly

someday I’ll return

to coax you out again

dust you off and let you

worship me

like you always wanted to.

Bubbles Blown

You got out easy, unsatisfied

I am still haunted by every moment

so naked and quiet.

Everywhere around our place, I see us

Our words hanging in the air above

like bubbles blown by some silly child

just floating

momentarily

until the inevitable – a pop

It’s Over.

Fading like the memory of  an old lover’s smile

You know it’s in your head somewhere

washed out and worn.

You miss the vividness of the memory

You miss the tingle you once felt

at the thought of him.

Now, I suffer in sweet silence

my only comfort a shred of text

a single cloth

with your scent.

Smooth, heavy, laced with sweat and sandalwood.

I can still feel your breath upon my neck, my ears, my lips

touched you so often, yet never enough to satisfy me.

I need the summer off

Something about the water is so attractive to me. I’m at the beach right now staring at it, at the glorious expansion of water that is before me leading all the way to England, or New Jersey, I’m not sure which.

I am cooled off now from having just been in the water which Ran wouldn’t go in with me, and I was kinda disappointed at first, but then I decided to go anyway, and just enjoy the fact that I didn’t have to be anywhere, do anything, talk to anyone, or cross anything off a to-do list for the rest of the day.

I need the summer off, I really do. I don’t want to go rehearsal, learn lines, worry about how to fit in dinner, I don’t want to. Please don’t make me!

Don’t get me wrong I have LOVED the last show, Fiorello!, more than anything. I loved having rehearsal to go to, I loved learning lines, I loved figuring out how to squeeze in dinner! It was all so glorious, the costumes, the dancing, the music, the amazing song I got to sing every night, my amazing scene partner who humored me and basically did anything I asked including: staying late and trying each scene 32 different ways. (Just to make sure we tried every possible way to do the scene and got it right – of course!) But now, its all over, the show went on, and ended and that’s the bad part of doing theater, it always comes to end eventually, and this one did too.

It’s Friday, and I got out of work at 1 courtesy of summer Fridays. I got on the express bus, something I have never done, and enjoyed a slow journey from 57th and Madison, to Cropsey Avenue in Brooklyn. It was delightful, the bus was empty when I got on, and as it began to fill up, I kept alerting my friend Shireen, 3 people, 4 people, now 10, 13!! I had my Kindle on my lap and a Weight Watchers yogurt for snacking, plus, a copy of the Daily news the bus driver gave me for entertainment on the ride out. I read the paper a bit, then dug into some samples of books I downloaded for the Kindle. Now I’m up to Eat Pray Love.

Ellen, my Weight Watchers leader emailed me last week, the email was titled “MIA” and the body of the email said, “where have you been?”
Ok, I ain’t gonna lie to you; I took springtime off from Weight Watchers, from counting points, from the whole damn thing. Fortuitously, my scaled broke somewhere around April, and I haven’t weighed myself in months. I’m free!!

Free and still trapped, because I have no idea what’s going on with me, I can only tell by how I feel and how my clothes fit which, used to scare the shit out of me. I was always fearful that I’d never be able to make it alone, so I clung to Weight Watchers and I admit, I need to go back, because I know on some level that I need that accountability back. As I reached the two year mark, I was tired, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. So I stopped going.

So back to my summer off, I’ve got to go to work, ok that’s a non-negotiable, and I suppose I still have to fulfill some obligations like going to family parties and laundry, but other than that, please don’t expect much from me.

This summer you can find me at the beach club, the Seagate beach club that is, where I mis-spent much of my youth as my dad and step-mother dragged me there summer after summer, to languish in guido-ville. (Which, by the way, is nothing like Margarita-ville.)

I used to hate days at the beach club. It was so boring to me as a teenager, there with nothing to do, but lay by the beach and eat olive loaf sandwiches with tomato. I hate tomato on sandwiches, ugh.

No doubt, no doubt, I also hated having to be in a bathing suit next to my stepmother who was always slim in a two piece. And I wasn’t fat, it was just about being uncomfortable in my own skin, feeling left out, out of place, and uneasy. I hated the sand, I hated the water, I hated everything about it. I hated it, and made everyone else know that I hated it.

Now that I am older and perhaps a little bit more in tune with who I am, I have decided, against all odds, to join the beach club of my own accord. I even tried to convince my dad that he should join (again) but he was uninterested. Now it could be my thing, and luckily for me, I have the most wonderful husband who has proven yet again that he loves me to death, by joining the beach club to prove his devotion to me and all things that make me happy, gotta love that.

So here we sit, at the beach club, happily ensconced in Coney Island just watching boats go by, slathering on sunscreen, eating olive loaf sandwiches (no tomato).

Eventually summer will end, and so will my self-imposed sabbatical at Coney Island. Until then I can decide to throw all caution to the wind, and not even answer Ellen’s email, or I can choose to get back on the path.

For now, I don’t know which course I will take.

I do know that I really enjoyed my time in the water. Nobody else around, just me, and the calmness of the water, the smell of salt, the wind. It was just me and the open seas, nothing between us. This is what having the summer off feels like, I am sure.

Attempts on her life

I have no mojo.  No words have been flowing through me for 2 months.  I haven’t been neglecting you, I really just haven’t had anything new to say.  And you know how I hate to repeat myself!

Yesterday, on the F train I grabbed a notebook and pen and started writing.  Nothing made sense, ideas were all over the place.  Markings like “gilded age shoes”, “no calories in cough drops” and “lies I tell myself” that lead nowhere, for now.

This morning, I scooped up the pen and paper again and wrote a poem.  I don’t know jack about poetry except for a class I took in college in 2000 with a professor who’s name I can’t even recall.  But the words were moving through me, so I went with it.

It has NOTHING to do with food -for now- but read it if you like. Marie’s first poem in a decade.

Expect more attempts to regain my mojo coming soon.  It may take a while to get back to some stellar posts, but we’ll get there, I hope.

Within her pursed eyes

Dreams that are visited

by you so warm and hot

She resides in a soft place

between divided worlds

her eyes longing to stay shut

in the universe of fantastical

dreams where you worship her

where passion is too fierce for prudence

where every touch is a torturous delight

that she can not resist

She enters the alternate world, a hard landing

that creates a hole within

A familiar pit of sorrow engulfs her

at lid’s opening, the well deeper and barren as before

Two worlds bursting and beating together with too many endings

Within her pursed eyes where dreams are real

as they are unreal

is the truth of the lie.

A day sans meat

Good Friday, a day to skip the meat.  I’m not really a believer in all the “skipping certain food” rules – as I tend to feel that they’re pretty made up and don’t really bring you closer to whatever is you’re supposed to feel closer to.  But yesterday, in a last ditch effort to keep my toe in the Catholic pool I decided to refrain from meat.  It was a little harder than I thought it would be.  Breakfast was matzoh with butter and cheese -natch.  Lunch a spread of linguini with clam sauce, fried fish and fish francese.  Good god, you’d think we were dying of starvation.  I mean, we really could have had a bit of grilled salmon or something, but instead it’s “Let’s make the fish as unhealthy as possible.”  I enjoyed the meal, but by dinner time I was coming up blank with plans.  Can’t have more pasta (can I?) for dinner.  Decided on a pizza half with pepperoni for Ran and half with black olives for me.  I had no trouble staying away from pepperoni slices – but I felt like a the goodyear blimp afterwards. So much carbs, and cheese and carbs!  Thank god I never tried to go vegetarian, I would end up 300lbs.  I didn’t do much better today, as I was running around NY all day seeing plays and playing with my little cousins.  I had pizza AGAIN – oy.  This time with the pepperoni.

I friggin’ hate holidays.  All the stress and craziness leads to all the eating I shouldn’t be doing.  Tomorrow, I get to have two Easter meals – one with mom, one with dad.  I just hope I can squeeze in a plate of vegetables at some point!  Oh right, I’m tasked with bringing the salad course, so at least I know that will be there.  I just pray no one sticks a plate of antipasto in front of me.  Or even worse (better?) I hope my step dad didn’t make the pizza rustica. Cheese pie with sausage bits floating in a ricotta crust.  I realize it sounds gross, but it’s awesome – especially cold.  And it only gets made once year, so you have to indulge in a slice.

Time for bed, having enough sleep leads to NOT overeating, so sleep is important.

Good luck with your holiday eating.  I don’t want to end up like the good year blimp again.  Maybe this time I will have the grilled salmon.

I love my grandmother…BUT

So, the best pizza in Brooklyn can be found at L&B Spumoni Gardens in Bensonhurst – if you ask me.  I was performing in a show with the Ryan Repertory Company all weekend and it’s conveniently located in the vicinity of L&B.  On Sunday, my family from Long Island made the trip out to Brooklyn for the show, but also for a slice of pizza.

The pizza is divine because it’s unique.  Instead of sauce and then cheese layered on top of the dough, its the opposite (!), cheese THEN sauce.  The dough is completely covered with cheese (a plus) rather than it just being a sprinkle of shredded mozzarella and then the sauce just sits a top- floating and waiting to be slurped up.  Thanks to my parents roots in Brooklyn, I’ve been eating this pizza all my life.   Its basically the reason I moved to Brooklyn.  I’ve also introduced these slices to countless “Non L&Bers” over the course of my life- my husband being one of them.  There’s just nothing better than being in the car, and getting a little hungry and him saying, “You up for some L&B?”

Aside from delish pizza, L& B Spumoni Gardens also has spumoni, a sandwich counter and a sit down restaurant that isn’t half bad either.  I tend to enjoy the “Chicken Marie” dish for obvious reasons and the antipasto.  The place is typically crowded and since it has picnic tables outside for the masses to enjoy their slices it’s a “must do” on the first few spring weekends.  This weekend was definitely a rebirth for L&B as it was finally nice enough to sit outside and enjoy a slice and spumoni.

Ok, so what’s my problem with my grandmother, right?  I mean, “Marie how could you have a post about your grandmother?  Are you that insensitive?”

The answers are “I have to write about this because it’s the key to so much overweighted-ness” and “Yes”.  Grandmother Nora doesn’t have a computer, and probably won’t see this blog – but I’ve got to call her out on principle and to give the rest of us a fighting chance against Food Pushers (who often come in the form of well-meaning grandmothers).

In order for you to fully understand the magnitude of Grandmother Nora’s presence – yes she wants to be called “Grandmother” not “Grandma” – I have to clue you in to a bit of her character.  Well, she IS a character.  Larger than life, always outspoken and the life of the party.  Last time we were together at L&B she was accosting Tony Disco while he was there giving autographs.  “Tony, TONY, do you know my son BOBBY?”  Good grief!  My dad, Bob(by), was mortified and yet totally into it at the same time.  I guess after 60+ years of her accosting celebrities in his presence, he gave in eventually and decided to go for the ride.  Grandmother is also known for her biting commentary.  Ran always tells a story that even after he and I were living together, Grandmother still called him my “friend” as in, “You know Marie, you’re FRIEND didn’t come say hi to me.”  The poor guy was scared of her!  But after that comment, he never neglected to say hi to Grandmother again.  Oh and of course I can’t forget the time Grandmother came to see me in a production of the Vagina Monologues at Muhlenberg College.  She happened to attend the one performance that had a talk back afterward.  Seated in the front row, she exclaimed, “You forgot the ‘Oh my god, OH MY GOD’” in reference to the monologue about different types of orgasms.  I exclaimed “Oh my god” as I sank into my chair with embarrassment.  But then it soon turned to pride that my grandmother was hip enough to come see Vag Mons and open enough to make declarations at the talk back.  Bottom line, she embarrasses you but makes you laugh and of course, she means well.

Alright, cut back to L&B, all of us are sitting around the table eating a slice.  “Did you have enough?”  “Save a slice for Linda!” “What about Bobby?  What’s he gonna eat?”

We had 2 pizzas and more food coming.  Nobody starved, I can assure you.  When the eggplant parmigiana hit the table, Grandmother started in with me, “Marie don’t you want some?”  “Aren’t you gonna have some eggplant?”  “Have this eggplant?”  I kept saying, NO THANKS.  But it fell on deaf ears.  Naturally, Grandmother started in with someone else then.  First my uncle, then my dad – she was relentless.  She kept exclaiming, “Well we can’t just LEAVE IT??!!!??”   Why not?  Why can’t we just leave that 200 calorie portion of eggplant on the dish?  Who will know/care/report us to the Italian police?  I finally answered her, “Grandmother, we CAN leave it.  No one is going to starve.”  It was like I speaking a foreign language.  Oh well.

…The eggplant sat..UNTIL…finally Bob picked it up, put it on his plate, and dove in.

I felt compelled to say something, and let’s face it, talking to pretty much anyone about the food their eating is like walking in a mine field.

“Dad, you don’t have to eat that if you don’t want to.”

He ate.

I don’t have a quippy response to that.  All I can say is, for some reason, when you’re told over and over again that it’s NOT okay to leave a little food on your plate – you start to believe it.  And then you will just eat it even if you are full.  It’s like its on the plate friggin staring at you saying, “Why not eat me?”  instead of “Why eat me?”

Not sure if this is a triumph over food?  Sounds more like the eggplant had a triumph over the Ingrisanos.  Actually, I will count it as a triumph, becuase at least I wasn’t the one eating that damn eggplant.  Though it looked so good.

World’s Fattest Woman…why?

On the heels of Jessica Simpson’s new show “The Price of Beauty” where she retaliates against the media for calling her fat last year (when she claimed to be at her biggest – a whopping size 6- puh-leez) this story pops up in the NY Post.   A woman actually attempting to be 1200lbs and become the world’s fattest woman (click or scroll down for article).  She lives in New Jersey!  Which was only ranked 40 on 2008′s listing of the fattest states in the USA. I really don’t know what to make of this.  Should I be disgusted that she is eating 12,000 calories a day – ok yes.  But on what point shall I be disgusted?

1. There are people in the world with no food to eat -at all- and she is eating 600% more than the daily allowance

2. She has no regard for her health, or the health care needs she will have when reaching 1200lbs. P period S period: who is paying for this?

3. She has a daughter who reportedly keeps her thin (she’s at 600lbs now) because she runs around so much and has to be looked after.  This poor daughter has to watch her mother get around in a motorized chair because she CAN”T WALK.

4. Currently, she CAN”T WALK.

5. She supports herself with a website where men pay to watch her eat.  That’s right, men are paying to watch her eat out of some sexual deviancy that only our fat-obsessed culture could create.

Read it for yourself and then you decide, do I really need that jar of Nutella in my house?

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NJ woman attempting to become world’s fattest lady

By CLEMENTE LISI

Read more: http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/nj_woman_attempting_to_become_world_pco3O4qPWiCg3yjEWaxx9N#ixzz0iGWXr9Ik

Supersize me, please.

A New Jersey woman who already weighs a whopping 600 pounds is on a mission to double her girth in a bid to become the world’s fattest woman.

Donna Simpson, 42, said she has her sights on reaching the 1,000-pound mark over the next two years.

PHOTOS: DONNA SIMPSON GUNNING TO BE WORLD’S FATTEST LADY

“My favorite food is sushi, but unlike others I can sit and eat 70 big pieces of sushi in one go,” she told London’s Daily Mail in an interview published today. “I do love cakes and sweet things, doughnuts are my favorite.”

Simpson insists she is healthy, even though she can’t walk and has to move around with the help of a motorized scooter.

James Ambler / Barcroft USA

Donna Simpson, who wears XXXXXXXL clothing, eats McDonald’s takeout at her home in Old Bridge, NJ.

Photos: Gunning to be world’s fattest lady

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Simpson, who wears XXXXXXXL dresses, said she gobbles up lots of fast food like hamburgers and french fries. She also said she moves as little as possible each day in order to keep on the pounds.

To reach her goal, Simpson said she’s been eating up to 12,000 calories a day — although the average woman should only consume about 2,000.

To pay for her gigantic $750-a-week food bill, Simpson runs a Web site where men pay her to watch her eat.

“I love eating and people love watching me eat,’ she told the British newspaper. “It makes people happy, and I’m not harming anyone.”

Simpson already holds the Guinness World Record as the world’s fattest mother, when she gave birth in 2007 to her daughter Jacqueline.

“I’d love to be 1,000 pounds,” said Simpson. “It might be hard though. Running after my daughter keeps my weight down.”

Simpson said her boyfriend Philippe, 49, has encouraged her to eat more — even though he only weighs 150 pounds.

“I think he’d like it if I was bigger,” she added. “He’s a real belly man, and completely supports me.”

Read more: http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/nj_woman_attempting_to_become_world_pco3O4qPWiCg3yjEWaxx9N#ixzz0iGVdh2QT

The Really Really

Last week, after a turn down “I don’t feel like doing Weight Watchers this week” lane, I was miraculously awarded with a 1.4lb weight loss on Monday night.  Stunned, shocked, and sporting a Cheshire grin, I celebrated by going out to dinner at Megu.  Ok, so I was already planning to go to dinner pre-weight loss, but that dinner our marked the beginning of a celebratory week, which included many cookies, dinner at the amazing BLT Steak, ramen noodles and pizza from Layla Jones.  Not exactly a great week for weight loss.  Some where along the line I decided to stop counting my points.  When am I going to learn my lesson that I can’t go out to dinner on Monday nights?  Monday nights become lost weeks. 

P.S. Dinner at Megu was very tasty and since it was the Restaurant Week menu, it was lighter than usual and I didn’t leave feeling stuffed.  Ran said he left wanting a slice of pizza, but I digress.

This Monday, I enjoyed a day off for President’s Day and failed to get into NYC for my weigh-in.  Lived in the land of Denial until Wednesday morning when I decided to track my foods from yesterday.  (How bad could it be?)  Well, it could be bad, very bad! 

HORRIBLE TRUTH DISCOVERED THIS WEEK:  Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies, 3 cookies are 4 points!  I mean, what the hell?  I think I scarfed about 6 of them down last night before dinner.  Damn.  And I didn’t even have a glass of milk for dunking!  Imagine how many I could have enjoyed with a tall glass of icy cold milk?  16?!!?!

I tracked Tuesday and found out I’d eaten roughly 35 points.  Um, I get 24 for each day, so what the hell happened?  What really happened is that I didn’t count and I ate what I wanted (to a certain extent) and I guesstimated my way thru it and was off by about 6 points.  Good show, Marie!  ( * shaking my head sarcastically *) 

I’m back on track now.  Ate a solid 25 points today.  I don’t know if I can correct the damage from earlier in the week in time for weigh-in, but I gotta try.  If I give up on me and go by the “guesstimation” rule, I’ll be right back where I started soon enough.

The really really of January – up .2lbs.  Consider it a success and move on to bigger losses and days filled with “triumphs over food”.