Skinny Girl Problems

Boy oh boy it’s been a while since I visited these, but the svelte-related-snafus keep on coming. It’s SO HARD being average. I just. can’t. deal. Here’s the latest installment of skinny girl problems. As always, they’re intended to be tongue in (gaunt) cheek. I have zero qualms with my newly reduced waistline and the license it gives me for sarcastic complaining. 

-So it used to be that my sock drawer contained one or two swim suits that rarely saw the light of day. Now, I barely have room for socks cause all my newly-purchased bikinis are hogging all the space. It’s a slippery slope people. I’m going broke buying these itty bitty pieces of fashion fun and now that the weather’s turning, they’re only useful when I run out of clean underwear. Someone needs to cut me off. Pronto.

-I just emerged from a one month stint of fun-employment and boy are my arms tired. Cause I worked out. A ton. I was at the gym every day Zumba-ing, kickboxing, pilates-ing, stepping, belly dancing, and participating in various other exercise classes that required me to let go of any intention of looking cool. That said, now that I look a little better in my stretch pants, people assume that I know what the crap I’m doing. Problem is, I don’t. As a former gymnast/cheerleader, I can hold my own, BUT all the UWS women and gents put me to shame.  Also, their confused and disappointed reactions to my inability to do a push up were no bueno. Made me wish I was a little chubbier just so they’d leave me alone.

-While taking a walk with my friend Ilana this week, I realized I have a touch of body dismorphia. After losing weight, there’s this thing of thinking you’re the size of a house when you’re really more of a reasonably-sized condo. Nobody ever sees %100 reality when they look in the mirror, but I feel like for those of us who have gone through body transformations every mirror might as well  have been lifted from a fun house. It’s like living in a P!nk music video 24/7… except you never know what size to get your checker print bodysuit in. And how are you gonna get the party started without an appropriately sized checker print bodysuit… Come on, people!

-And the hardest part about being a skinny girl is continuing to be a skinny girl. My lips hath not touched cheese in months and the only thing I do at ice cream parlors is window shop. And in the words of the great Seth Meyers…

 

I can’t even tell you what I’d do for a BLT right now… Oy.

16 Scandals

As a lady on a diet, I’m always on the hunt for a treat that doesn’t make my Jewish guilt it’s b-i-t-c-h. I want something that tastes good and feels indulgent while also keeping my capability for chub rub at bay. And this summer I thought I found it in frozen yogurt chain 16 Handles.

It feels like as of late you can’t throw a medicine ball in Manhattan without hitting one of their neon-colored stores. I even spotted one in Astoria QUEENS yesterday, so you know they’re taking over. It’s an irresistible concept. Sixteen kinds of froyo that taste exactly like what they’re supposed to, every kind of topping under the sun, and a help yourself/pay by weight policy that gives you total control. You can swirl birthday cake/peanut butter/chocolate/coconut froyo and cover it in crushed snickers, cake crumbs, fruity pebbles and maybe some bananas and berries or something in one supposedly low-cal  bundle.

Problem is, it’s really freaking bad for you.

16 Handles doesn’t necessarily claim to be health food, but the words “non-fat” or “low-fat” are prominently displayed on all of their flavors, and yogurt culture is one of svelte-frames and knowing that there are types of broccoli. Also, since the method is self-service, it’s up to the customer to decide just how much goodness they want to shove down their gullet. That said, both the business and the customer are to blame here.

On a recent late night 16 Handles run, which are admittedly becoming way too frequent in my life, I did the stupid thing of actually looking at the well-advertised facts of what I was eating. Each serving of the yogurt contains roughly110 calories (on average), however a serving size is only 1/4 cup. The cups provided are about 16 ounces (2 cups) so there is the first problem. Most people wanna fill that baby up for a whopping 880 calories, but I try and stop halfway, making the base alone about 440 calories. And that’s before you even add the toppings.

Any dieter worth their lack of salt knows the caloric content of the toppings by eye. For any of the candy toppings like M & M’s, Snickers, peanut butter cups, etc. you do the math based on how much a “fun-sized” serving of those treats have. Going for the cookie/cake/cereal type items follows the same concept of figuring out the proportional serving, and then you can picture the sauce-type toppings (my favs are peanut butter and marshmallow) as liquid calories. Basically, stick with the fresh fruit or otherwise assume you’re adding at least 100-200 calories to however much yogurt you decided to indulge in. So my average 16 Handles treat potentially clocks in at a mortifying 600 calories. Gross.

600 calories is about half of my calories for the full day. It equals approximately a pick-up truck full of all vegetable salad, or a footlong turkey at Subway, or 2 donuts, or 6 veggie burgers. I can’t keep spending that much of my precious cals on something largely made of chemicals that is usually consumed as a snack.

Game over. Sorry 16 Handles. You are delicious and a super fun thing to do with friends, but I’m gonna need to stay away until I can figure out how you work in my diet… Or when I gain some GD control over the hungry hungry hippo that lives inside me… Whichever comes first.

***BTW… All these numbers are an approximation not backed by anyone at 16 Handles***

**Though… I’d love to speak to someone there :)**