[resolve this]

i know too many (i.e., more than zero) women (and not a few men) whose new year's resolutions include something like "lose that last n pounds."

i have seen billboards for something called l.a. weightloss centers (ugh!) which say, "be more. weigh less."

and while i, like everyone who is not very thin or blessed with a culture-resistant psyche, am tempted to resolve such things myself now and again, i have resolved not to resolve that way(!). i resolve...what...i resolve...to run and dance and climb and sing and think and cook more, and more interestingly.

but really. why do we all have to care about those pounds so much--particularly the women among us? remember back in the second wave (of course you don't!) when they used to say "the personal is political"? this issue is the proof of that for me. if i can just remember how shit i feel whenever i see some actress who has suddenly ballooned to a size eight being lambasted on E! while all my friends laugh along, maybe i can understand why the issues that might seem peripheral to me are actually quite important. i'm a pretty good sport, but i've been branded a humorless feminist over this stuff, implicitly and explicitly, more times than i can count...and i suppose it's just going to keep on happening.

like this: up late tonight, watching vh1 (yeah, solid choice, dipshit...) when some ridiculous astrology show comes on, attempting to predict the course of 2003 for various celebs, including our favorite--anna nicole smith. now, for any of you pop-culture-deprived swatties out there who don't already know, this is the former guess girl and playboy bunny who married some glacially ancient oil tycoon, then sued his fam for the inheritance when he died. there are plenty of reasons to disrespect this woman. but vh1, in its infinite wisdom, chose...you guessed it...her weight, including a cartoon meant to spoof a supposedly impending movie career with smith starring as (a) "the alps" and (b) a huge, deranged monster chasing an ice cream truck. following this charming segment was one about j.lo (not judy lord) where the cartoon feature---meant to illustrate some psychic hack's prediction that she would teach inner-city kids to dance---showed a monstrous, nearly-disembodied ass, bouncing to the beat with enough force to toss the kiddies from one end of the room to the other. when the damn thing broke for a commercial, it broke for a fast-food commercial and a slim-fast ad. who's fucked up? we are! we are!