New Year's: the taller, slimmer Me thinks about nutrition

I can't put my arms down!

Since I'm still working on those 12 pounds from 2005 that come and go (and the neatness issues from 7th grade), I don't want to add any new perceived flaws to be corrected in 2010, I mean 2012. Given choices, I would be taller (not a lot) and thinner (some), I would have sharper vision because squinting makes you look older, and have more energy because feeling tired is very close to feeling old.


Would I be better dressed? I'm having a hard time with that, because among the formerly impossible things the electronic digital age has done is completely permeate the media and the airwaves with self-improvement tips and marketing. I already keep my clothes clean and pressed, and my shoes in good repair, thank you very much. Having watched A Christmas Story at an impressionable age, I have a lasting aversion to over-layering, so I have way too many coats and jackets in different weights so I won't over-layer.  And as for over-shopping: well, web shopping no longer cures a sleepless night,  it just gives me a day or two of "returning errands". I'm sure that in 80% of the world, I'd be overdressed. Opulently so. And to my horror (because I am an unselfish person who worries about the health of others), in large parts of this country I'm considered emaciated by comparison to the local ladies who lunch. On a loaf of bread while waiting for their double hero sandwiches and sweet rolls. At Panera.

Do I "eat healthy"? I think so but that's an empirical conclusion mainly because I have good posture and no vitamin deficiency diseases. I don't know if a Nutritionist would agree, but I don't agree with a lot of Nutritionists either. I once attended a conference at which a Nutritionist was one of the speakers.  She insisted that it is just as easy to prepare a healthy home-cooked meal as it is to defrost something, or pick up MickeyD's, and much less expensive.  She supported this by "costing out" the price of ingredients in a typical healthy meal: 49¢ for half a can of tomatoes, 14¢ for some grated cheese, 13¢ for one egg, and so on. Obviously this deluded soul had never shopped for food in her life. Or cooked a meal for real people. Or cleaned up after it (using 1 tsp Joy and ⅓ Brillo pad, no doubt). Stuff that comes in cans, boxes, bottles and cartons is sold that way. And then you have to store the unused part (where?) and keep using that up. You also have to possess the pots to cook it in, and a place to keep them, and a working stove and refrigerator. No wonder these theories are slow to catch on in poorer neighborhoods. Or countries. A little jar of dried thyme costs $6.95, and a pound of salt costs less than a tenth of that.

One last thing: I've stopped reading magazines that urge me to "select a signature fragrance." Please. Here are the characteristics of the fragrance I seek: doesn't make me sneeze, doesn't make my eyes run or my lids swell up, doesn't smell like cheap artificial flavorings or like flowers that are not native to the continent upon which I dwell. And I don't want to smell like dryer sheets or overripe fruit or air fresheners or.... I realize this eliminates most of what's on the market, and I can't really go perfume shopping for more that a minute or two because of that sneeze/sniffles business, so Himself will have to rely on a guilty conscience rather than a signature scent to know that I have entered a room before he sees me. I just mentioned this to him, and he says his conscience is fine and even if he doesn't see me entering a room, he knows I won't leave without him. Unless I'm really, really annoyed.

And now I have to go pack up the shopping bags for tomorrow's returns: a puffer coat I bought to replace the 2-year-old (is that all? really?) coat from Lands' End sale -- it's not a bargain if it sheds its feathers! -- and a glen plaid pencil skirt with a big bow over the tummy. 'Nuff said. Oh, there's nothing wrong with the puffer, I just decided to buy it a size larger. So I could layer on cold days.