Bread and Bread

Hear me out: I've been watching weight loss shows lately. Things with titles like 1,000 Lb Sisters. One of the shows is... 1,000 Lb Sisters. The other is 1,000 Lb Best Friends.  If you're not familiar with either of these shows, first, congratulations on having good taste and not consuming fat-shaming media. Also, here's my best attempt at a summary: The sisters in question are Amy and Tammy Slaton, who landed a TLC show that first aired in 2020 after their YouTube channel became a hit because they were genuinely funny and raunchy (lots of fart talk) and very fat. The premise of the TV show is that they will try to lose enough weight to qualify for bariatric surgery.  I assume there are medical reasons that people have to lose weight before they can have a medical procedure that helps them lose weight—to demonstrate that they can make the lifestyle changes that will be necessary after surgery? Because operating on someone with extreme amounts of extra fat is riskier? Nevert...

Dear Cheryl, This story takes place thirty years from now. Can you believe you'll ever be 41? You sort of almost didn't make it to that birthday, but that's another story. In this one, two board members at the organization you work for are Hillary Toomey . They think of you as a well-intentioned flea who is not great at gala event seating. They're not really concerned with you one way or another, but in their wake you feel small and frumpy and rejected. This is how you feel every day in sixth grade. You are too tall and have bangs that don't cooperate. You make jokes that fall flat. You are gay and trying not to be, because gay is just another way of doing everything wrong. The Hillary Toomeys of your future like your coworkers, who are Bonnie in this story. Two different coworkers represent Bonnie--both the conscientious, imaginative Bonnie who will be your lifelong friend, and the sixth-grade Bonnie, who is wooed by the opinions and charms of the mean, popular...

“I’d come to squander an appalling proportion of my mental time on empty vows to cut down to one meal a day, or on fruitless self-castigation over a second stuffed pepper at lunch. Surely on some unconscious, high-frequency level other people could hear the squeal of this humiliating hamster wheel in my head, a piercing shrill that emitted from every other woman I passed in the aisles of Hy-Vee.” --from Big Brother by Lionel Shriver I never think of really smart, self-actualized women—whether fat, skinny or in-between—as dieting, but Shriver’s novel about consumption and excess in various forms (I think; I’m only on page 28) suggests that maybe she’s not a total stranger to the endeavor. I spent my teens and early twenties bingeing and dieting, plummeting to 107 pounds for a brief period and becoming the fattest cheerleader on the squad for a much longer one. Then I came out, and within a year my eating habits were the best they’d been since childhood. Halloween duri...