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Lemons put the squeeze on diet
By JASON ASHLEY WRIGHT World Scene Writer
Published: 7/28/2009 2:23 AM
Last Modified: 7/28/2009 5:55 AM
Read Jason Ashley Wright's Blog
The silver lining in my clouds needs polishing.
Maybe that will make them stand out more, as I'm prone to focus on the gray instead of the gleam in most situations.
Seems I'm in my fat-and-happy stage again. From the week prior to vacation up till the time I'm typing to you, I've gained 21 pounds. Nuts may be a healthy kind of fat, but two-plus gallons of them (no exaggeration, I'm afraid) over the course of 10 days probably isn't conducive to maintaining a svelte physique.
Whatever, I'm still celebrating my own little Christmas in July, fa-la-la-la-la-ing along in my gay apparel — today's being a gray linen vest I found at Express on Sunday for 40 percent off half-off. Woohoo!
Anyway, if you'll please pardon the repetition, I'm gonna take this time to turn some lemons into lemon icebox pie — me likey the sweets lately.
Pie are round
Let's take the lemons one by one. Like my garbage disposal, I can only deal with one at a time.
Lemon No. 1: Acne. This has been the biggest aesthetic bane of my existence lately. Not that it warrants a third (time's the charm, perhaps?) course of Accutane (fingers crossed), but any blemish is aggravating. Several on your forehead, if you'll pardon my Pig Latin, ucks-say actus-cay.
However, as more than one facial guru has pointed out, my skin is oily, which means (knock on Woody Allen) that my face should, theoretically, wrinkle at a slower, softer rate than folks with dry skin. So that's my first slice of pie. I'll refrain from garnishing it with a statement alluding to my history of smoking and tanning bed-hopping. Or not, apparently.
Whatever, here's lemon numero dos: My waist size is catching up with my age. Thanks to my new obsession with almonds, pecans and cashews (I'll be reprising Barbra Streisand's role in "Nuts" this fall — and, hopefully, backing off on talking in parentheses), I've grown out of my relatively new Seven jeans. The ones I got at Chrome this spring? Total tourniquet.
The pie perspective, though, is that (1) my face is fuller and, again with the "theoretically," seems less wrinkled; and (2) if I need to have a limb sawn off for whatever reason, I'll have a low-rise, boot-cut tourniquet to use.
Cheez wiz
My third lemon is Brad — you know, my iPhone. Brad costs nearly twice what my last phone did. The slice-o-pie in this case, though, is that instead of blowing money on a weekly pint of ice cream and weekly box of Cheez-Its, I'll sock that money away for Brad. Actually, that's like two slices of pie, as I won't be packing on Ben & Jerry's weight. Sorry, if I have to Winona Ryder a box of Cheez-Its, I'll totally do it. I stole a Soap Opera Digest from a laundromat in ninth grade, so I have a history.
Fat, blemished or broke, there's always plenty of things to be thankful for. Like the freedom to end sentences in prepositions. So sit yourself down, and spit-shine your own lining. Only takes a minute — maybe two if you stop to take bites of icebox pie.
By JASON ASHLEY WRIGHT World Scene Writer
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