Tag Archives: Weight Watchers


As we near the end first week of January, I’m proud to report that I’ve kept all of my New Year’s resolutions. Or I would have if I had made any. Perhaps I’ve kept yours.

I don’t typically make New Year’s resolutions. Or perhaps I should say, I don’t make typical New Year’s resolutions.

Let it be noted that this week, I took a Zumba class, attended a Weight Watchers meeting, started a new book (reading, not writing), cleaned out and reorganized my refrigerator and tried to donate a pint of blood. Tried, because I apparently didn’t have enough iron for the Red Cross. I then went out and bought a gargantuan head of kale.

If I had resolved to exercise, lose weight, read more, get organized, do for humanity and buy healthful foods, I’d have aced it this week. One down, fifty-one to go.

Notice I said, “healthful,” not “healthy.” Things are healthful. People are healthy. Kale, anyone?

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Food, Health, Holidays, Sports and Recreation

The princess bribe

Sarah, honey, how could you do it?  As those of us here in Washington, D.C. could have told you, money for influence is a tricky notion, one that usually doesn’t reflect well in headlines, not to mention on hidden camera.

But you appeared on video, soliciting large sums in exchange for access to your influential ex-husband.  It was painful to watch, especially for you.

Next time, maybe you’ll consider all those who’ve looked up to you all these years.  Think of the children whose parents read them Budgie the Little Helicopter—which by the way, our son loved.  My husband and I used to hide Budgie on nights when we were too tired to read it (it was a little long) but our son always found it and brought it to us beggingly.  You were a part of us even then.

Think of all of us whom you inspired with your Weight Watchers commercials.  The way you pronounced Weight Wohchahs lent sophistication to our point-counting.

We looked up to you and yet you were a duchess we could relate to, with your struggles with weight and overindulgence, and those unflattering swimsuit shots.  We rooted for you when the tabloids exposed your troubles.  But this latest misstep has put your supporters in one sticky wicket.

We understand that, financially, you have fallen on hard times.  There, there, dear.  Come join me for two-for-one night at Ruby Tuesday and we’ll work through it.  That is, if you don’t end up doing hard porridge in the chokey.


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