Nom de Plume

Last week, when we were staying across the alley because of redoing the floors, a digital scale stared at me balefully until I stripped down and stepped on it. I even parked my gum.

And I still passed out cold.

Because, you see, somewhere along the way, I have become a Fat Person. I’m not really sure how that happened, though I guess I’ve suspected. Really, I’ve been in denial. So I ran out, bought a scale of my own and stocked up on Fat Flush goods.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Fat Flush, it’s yet another diet plan. I picked up the book last summer (in a brief attempt to undeny my denial). The first two weeks consist of a detox in which you eat lean proteins, veggies, fruit, “cranwater” made of unsweetened cranberry juice and water, and flax seed oil. The longest I’ve managed to stay on it was four days before sugar and caffeine withdrawals hit. Hard. I will say, however, the results of even four days are pretty immediate.

This time, I said, I’m serious. And here I am, a full week done. This evening, a neighbor who I haven’t seen in a while said I looked skinny. Naturally, this made my day, so I rushed home and asked Steve what he thought.

He got that funny look on his face. You know, the one guys get when they realize they’re screwed no matter what they say.

“Uh, did you tell her you were fat flushing before she said that?”

“NO,” I said emphatically. A pause. I tried to stop myself, I really did. “So you can’t tell a difference?”

“Uh-huh?” he said hesitantly. “Is that the right answer?”

“No, seriously.”

“Yes, I can.” He was firm.

“No, you can’t.”

“Zia,” he said exasperated, “I don’t notice if you’re fat or thin. You always look good to me.”

“So I’m fat.”

“You are a gorgeous woman, the light of my life, at the pinnacle of her beauty.”

Yeah, yeah, that sounds great. The only thing was that he was deadpanning, his voice completely flat. That, and he was pretending to read a notecard cheatsheet off his palm. I raised my eyebrows.

“A radiant specimen of joy and light?” he offered hopefully. I shook my head.

“I know! You’re a blossoming flower!”

“Blossoming flowers are fat,” I harrumphed.

Then he started laughing.