May 2007 Archives

No, I don't mean biscuits, brownies and donuts(Mmmm. . .my mama's biscuits with butter and jelly).

Seriously, though - I'm talking about Bell, Biv Devoe, the harder edge of the first boy band, New Edition. Ricky Bell, Michael Bivens and Ronnie Devoe left the group famous for songs like "Candy Girl," "Mr. Telephone Man," and "Popcorn Love," in the early 90s to form B.B.D.

The group is famous for their spray-painted overalls, Bivens licking his full lips and songs like "Do Me," "I thought it was me," and "When will I see you smile again?"

My favorite song, though, is "Poison," as performed live here on the Arsenio Hall show:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NahN7uXCi98

Do ya'll remember Arsenio? Admit it - how many stayed up to watch him and see who his musical guests would be? (Note to readers: I'm southern. Down south, we use ya'll A LOT.)

This story goes under the heading,

"You don't say. .. " Most dieters don't know good carbs from bad, or what fat is the current "bad" fat, or even how much they should eat each day. Boy, am I in trouble!

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/18944144/wid/11915773?GT1=10008

This blog is an interactive forum about weight loss and health issues. Please post your thoughts, comments, questions or suggestions on the form below.

I'm sure this woman has NO idea their very full bottom was photographed.

Fat people have to be careful. With obesity being called "an epidemic," we're the new targets for news stories.

With this in mind, I'm warning all my fellow fat people - watch out for the television news camera crews! They are everywhere, looking for fat folks like us for their obesity stories!

They especially like candid shots of you eating super-sized portions at a restaurant, or stuffing some large burger in your mouth.

So, fellow fat folks, protect ya necks (Wu-Tang Clan reference, that means, "Watch your back.")
I'm watching my backside (and trying to make sure it DOES NOT grow anymore!)

http://news.yahoo.com/photo/070528/photos_hl/2007_05_28t125803_450x300_us_obesity_bones

And yes, they did.

Disclaimers: "Evil camerapersons" DOES NOT include the wonderfully talented and professional news photographers I work with every day at the YDR/YSN. They're fabulous.

I know you've seen it. They play it 24/7, and it interrupts every chick show on television. It's the silly one with the woman walking around with a red raft covering what we think is her nudity, and some man singing the jingle in a weird, warbled voice. At the end of the commerical, we find out she's hiding the yellow polka-dot bikini, that she wore for the first time that day. She wore an itsy-bitsy teeny weenie. . .

Sorry, I got lost in the jingle. Those ad people really know how to make those nagging little songs that get stuck in your head, and that you find yourself singing in the line at the grocery store.

Anyhow, the commercial is annoying (and she really should've used some Jergen's Natural Glow lotion before revealing her new bathing suit), but there's an neat site connected to it.

That's right, boys and girls. It's my favorite day of the year, and one my parents will always remember (Right, mom and dad. . .) - my birthday.

I know there's some myth that women are supposed to hate their birthdays. I LOOOOVE mine. I usually celebrate for about a week. This year's celebration began on Saturday.

That day, my older and wiser sister, Debbie, gave me a great gift.

What's up with the pounds you lose coming back?

I mean, after I've done this much to get rid of them, wouldn't you think they'd pick up the hint and stay away?

This week, I gained a half a pound. My editors will not allow me to write here the colorful words I used when I looked at the scale Monday morning and saw this half pound was back. Plus, I think my mom is reading this.

Have you ever seen those television news reports on obesity?

You know, the ones where some evil cameraperson pans in on some unsuspecting, chubby person, or a group of fat people walking on a sunny day?

In them, the camera is unforgiving, honing in on the rounded tummies, full hips and dimpled buns.

In my nightmares, they get me. No, not the fat people (I'm one of them) - the cameraperson.

I'm sitting at my desk in the newsroom, and I look up at one of the televisions, only to see my wide backside waddling out of West Manchester Mall with a bag of Chick-fila food larger than my purse, sucking down a large drink (and it is not diet soda).

If you're going to be reading my blog, you should know a few things about me.

Michele Canty, Gemini. . . What's your sign? (Said in Eddie Murphy voice, but not the donkey voice, the one from his days with Saturday Night Live.)

Seriously, though, I'm 30-something years old.

I'm a southern gal, from Virginia.

I've been a reporter for more than eight years. I won a writing award for covering the crime beat in 2006.

At my highest weight, I tipped the scale at 250 pounds (in February).

I consider Virginia my home because that's where my family lives. I am the "middle" child of four children sometimes claimed by our parents, Sharon and Reggie Sr.

I have two sisters (my better half and almost twin, Gina, and my saucy older sister, Debbie) and had one brother (We still miss you, Reggie Jr.). My parents were crazy to have four of us (and to let us live to adulthood, especially with some of the stunts I pulled). They've been married more than 30 years.

Most importantly, I am the doting aunt of three wonderful children, Jason, 7, Aisha, 5, and Kaiya, 2.

Where I'm from, we pick on skinny people.

Not in an evil way, but it's usually something like:

"Have you seen (insert relative's name) daughter?"

"Um hmm."

"That girl needs a sandwich! She is TOO thin."

"She's barely skin and bones! It's not healthy, really."

"It just doesn't look right."

So, now that I'm doing the weight loss thing, I'm trying to figure out the best way to do it.

A search online yeilded some. . . interesting. . . diet plans.

When one of my best friends, Jenni, told me she and her boyfriend of 10 years, Dave, were finally getting married, I was so excited.

When she asked me to be a bridesmaid, I couldn't hide my joy. (I was going to look GOOD.)

When she told me we'd be wearing strapless dresses, I wanted to run screaming.

I haven't had any fast food for about four weeks. I don't mind it so much. I mean, I only drive by five - count them - fast food restaurants on the stretch of Carlisle Avenue that I take to and from work.

I can do this. I don't need French fries.

But I'm thinking about it a lot. I keep expecting to get a call that goes something like this:

"Hello, this is McDonald's, is Michele around"?

"Ah, yeah, hi, McDonald's. It's me."

So, I'm at the gym, a prisoner to the treadmill for another 15 minutes and in the middle of a jam session with my favorite song from the Thriller album, "Wanna be startin' something."

I'm in the second chorus of "Ma Ma Sa, Ma Ma Coo Sa," (And yes, I'm the one at the gym next to you singing on the treadmill. You know you want to sing along with Michael Jackson) when I see one of the thinnest women I've ever seen.

I knew this was going to happen. My lack of coordination was bound to catch up with me sometime.