The One Where Amber Talks (almost coherently) About Religion

With the Christmas season recently completed, God and Jesus and those fellas have been on some people's minds an awful lot lately. When word spread of the massacre in Newtown, many people turned to religion for comfort and to ask how something like that could happen. Prayers were said and vigils were held.

Then something else happened. Some of the people who turned to God for comfort then shifted their gaze. In sadness and anger, they wielded religion as a weapon. "If God were more present in our schools," they said, "things like this wouldn't happen." Shaking their heads, they mused, "this is what happens when you turn your back on God."

I got really, really angry when I read things like that. I am still angry thinking about it. I'm still not sure if I am truly able to put words to my feelings, but I'm going to try.

Passing judgment on others is not okay. Wrapped up in the sentiments I summarized above is the assumption that those who are not Christian must therefore be morally void or bad people. Is that really what these people believe? That there are those who are saved, the good people, and then those who are not, the bad people? I'm not a Biblical scholar nor am I a Christian, so I'll abstain from quoting religious texts with which I'm not really familiar, but my understanding has always been that Christianity is a religion of charity, love, and forgiveness. Maybe that's not so?

My other primary problem with the sentiments about God in schools is that, well, they're wrong. Factually. God wouldn't prevent people from shooting each other any more than he has prevented priests from molesting kids. A glib point, yes, but it holds water. Being Christian doesn't remove the existence of free will. People will do what they want to do, and while the pressures of religious doctrine might encourage certain behaviors, it's not a mathematical certainty. Think about the people who bomb abortion clinics - they actually believe they are doing God's will by murdering people. They don't see any problem with killing people to prevent the killing of (tiny) people...who, in fact, are also killed in the prevention killings. But those crazies are not the ones (as far as I know) who have been proclaiming with sorrow that God could have saved the children of Newtown. It's the normal people who aren't crazy. They really, truly believe that a Bible in every classroom and a prayer at the start of each day would somehow prevent things like this. I can't imagine a sadder, more confused line of logic.

Recently, a crazy person shot a bunch of firefighters in NYC.  Are we really going to blame the godlessness of firehouses, now?  Or perhaps we're going to accuse the neighborhood in which the man lived of not being holy enough?  When we start blaming the victims or the community rather than the perpetrator, we absolve him of any wrongdoing.  It is the same line of logic that argues a woman's skimpy outfit invited sexual assault.  Even in less-charged circumstances, the same logic follows.  If you hadn't left your purse open, your phone wouldn't have been stolen.  If you had gotten that fancy security system, your break-in would have stopped at the front door.  If you hadn't been walking in that bad neighborhood, you wouldn't have been mugged.

We've probably all thought those things.  I am constantly reminding my students to keep their phones and bags on them and not to leave things on a table if they're leaving the room.  It's sad, particularly because I teach in a tiny school where we call each other by first name and at least attempt to have a respectful, safe environment, but it's the reality.  And yet, there is an important distinction that needs to be made here.  If a student's phone is stolen after they left it on the table, it's not that student's fault.  They might have been able to prevent the theft, yes, but it is the fault of the thief.  Period.

If we blame the student, we remove personal responsibility from the thief, as if it is in the student's power to keep the phone safe but not in the thief's power to not steal a phone.  Maybe this sort of victim-blaming mentality is a mechanism we use to make ourselves feel safer.  If it's the victim's fault when something happens to them, then it was within the victim's power to prevent it.  If it's in the victim's power to prevent bad things, then it's within my power to prevent bad things from happening to me.  Hence, I am safe.

Is this really how we want our elementary school students to think?  If they had just prayed harder, maybe a random person wouldn't have shot their friends, their teachers?  If the teachers had just broken the law and forced religious teachings into the classroom, then the shooter would have skipped that room?  If we blame the school for not being holy enough, we are automatically blaming the individuals within that school.

Think about who that really means.  Teachers who lied to the shooter to protect their students only to be shot themselves.  Staff who shielded students with their own bodies and were killed.  The acts of courage and love performed that day should be beyond reproach.  If I can break my own rule and quote some scripture: "Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13)  If a teacher performs an act of the greatest possible love, doesn't that mean that God is already in our schools?  Doesn't that mean that He is already within those who love and care for others, those who would protect innocent children without hesitation?

I worry that the self-satisfied superiority expressed by those who blame secular education for the shooting means that those people do not see any other problems that need to be addressed.  If the issue is the lack of God in schools, then there is no need to examine our gun laws, or the lack of availability of mental health services in this country, or the way news organizations celebritize mass shooters.  That mindset makes me sad, and a little scared.  There have been plenty of all-Christian-all-the-time communities throughout history, and none of those (as far as I know) were without problems.  Putting a cross on every door and the Commandments in every main office of every school isn't the solution.  But maybe if we all took some of that scripture, the bits about love and forgiveness and charity, and actually did what it said, we'd be in much better shape.

"If anyone says, 'I love God,' and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. And this commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother." (John 4:20-21)

A Brief Commentary on the Concept of the "Friendzone"

[Spoiler alert: This post is more aggressively offensive than usual.]

I've spent the last few minutes reading the tumblr Nice Guys of OkCupid, which is amazing.  The joke is essentially the same from post to post, but it's a funny one, and one I think needs to be made.  The short version, for you non-click-through people, is that men on this particular dating website complain about how women don't want to date them because they're "too nice" but then post other things on the same website that reveal how awful they are as people.  I'm sure plenty of people have plenty say about this, but before I get caught up in Christmas Eve gift anticipation and sugar overdoses, I'll post my 2¢ here.  Sidenote, I'm pretty impressed with myself that I remembered the number pad alt code for the cent sign.

The problem with identifying as a nice guy: Here's the thing, fellas.  YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE NICE.  That is a basic human quality.  It doesn't mean you have to be perfect, but rather that your intentions should be mostly good instead of mostly bad.  You're allowed to make mistakes, to have flaws, but you should be a good person.  Being nice is not something you get a fucking cookie for.  It is a requirement for continued social interaction with anyone else who is also nice.  Which, I'd like to think, covers most people.  The guys who you claim are all assholes who get the girls?  They're probably mostly nice, too.  The problem is that they either made mistakes, or there was a fundamental disconnect in their relationships that caused one or both parties to be hurt.  Sure, some of them are serial cheaters or just horrible people, but if you genuinely think that those qualities are what draw women to those men, you are crazypants.  And yes, there are some qualities that sometimes get bundled with dickish behavior - for example, being forward, taking risks, that sort of thing - but if you are psychotic enough to think that most or even some women are actively attracted to men that exist solely to cause them pain, just do us all a favor and kill yourself.

And that whole nice thing that you're so goddamned proud of?  That entitles you to nothing.  You do not earn an Old Fashioned by pulling out a chair or holding a door.  You don't get blowies just for paying attention to a girl's story for 10 solid minutes.  And you sure as SHIT don't get laid because you bought dinner.  Women are not automatically prostitutes, whether the currency is dollar bills or steak tips.  If you assume that you are owed any sort of affection or sexual favors because you did something nice, then you don't understand what "nice" means.  Seriously.  Like, not at all.  If you identify as a "nice guy" but you also get upset when a girl doesn't put out after you bought her dinner, you are retarded.

The reality of your situation: You probably are nice.  I mean, I don't necessarily know that for sure, but if I'm assuming that most people are nice, there's a statistically significant chance that you are, in fact, nice.  But, if you're nice, why aren't you dating whatever the 2012 equivalent of Carmen Electra is?  Dan says I mean Kate Upton.  So yeah, why aren't you dating Kate Upton?  Well, a lot of fucking reasons that have very little to do with your fundamental niceness.  Here are some possibilities:

• You are unattractive.  This could be a busted face, a terrible body, awful hair, or just something gross about you.  Again, I don't know you.  It might be fixable, it might not.
• You are depressing as FUCK.  People who mope around all day are not fun to be around.  Who wants to date somebody like that?
• You whine like a little bitch.  (See previous point.)
• You have no idea how to interact with people, especially women to whom you are attracted.
• You keep aiming too high.  Realistically assess the women you're pursuing.  Are you even close to their level?  Never go more than 2 above your own rating.  Realistically I'm a 5, maybe a 6 provided I'm wearing a push-up bra.  I'm not out there chasing 9s and then getting pissy when they choose to date other 9s.
• Your priorities make no sense and you take good things for granted.  If a girl puts you in the "friendzone", either value her friendship for what it is and move on or tell her to go fuck herself.  If you wait around for her to realize why you're awesome, you're not listening, dumbass.  SHE SAID NO.  If you're not willing to listen to her extremely clear fucking signals that you're so mad about, what makes you think you'd be a suitable boyfriend? (Also, this.)
• You are not as nice as you think you are.  Again, this is fodder for the Nice Guys of OkCupid tumblr, so I don't need to go there.

Stop blaming women for not loving you.  Their job isn't to love you.  Their job is to be their own fucking person and live their own fucking lives.  I know the number agreement and syntax of that sentence was problematic, but I don't care.  You, hopefully, get what I'm saying.  If you're so caught up in this "nice guy" thing that you define all your interactions with women based on your niceness, you're probably really self-centered.  You see women as objects that you play off of rather than as their own goddamned people with dreams, preferences, priorities, fears, doubts, and egotistical obsessions.  Plenty of women do the same thing that "nice guys" do, except they blame their problems on skinny girls instead of assholes.  But that's another post for another day.

But seriously fellas, turn your gaze inward.  I'm not saying you need to be self-loathing or what have you, but rather that you should understand a simple concept: the common denominator in all of your failures with women is YOU.  It's not that all women are the same.  You are the same with all these women. I don't know exactly what your goddamned problem is, but rest assured that it is YOUR problem.  If you're so angry about all these girls you love dating assholes over and over, never realizing that a great guy is right in front of them...well what does it then say about you that you keep pursuing these unavailable/uninterested women over and over again?  Who are YOU ignoring, discarding, disregarding, or rejecting?  What women would love the chance to dote on you if only you would ever take your head out of your ass and look at them?  Well, maybe none.  I don't really know.  But seriously, stop playing the victim.  It's depressing, unattractive, and ultimately sets you up to have an oppositional relationship with all women.  Not exactly great for your romantic future.  If you see women as obstacles to be overcome or territory to be taken, why don't you do us all a favor and wear a t-shirt that says "I have the mentality of a rapist" and save us all the trouble of identifying you at a party.

Ugh.  Go fuck yourselves, you whiny pricks.  Merry Christmas.

Diary of a Fat Girl - Episode 21: Yikes

Summer 2011

This was me in the summer of 2011, which was last year, for those of you keeping score. It was riiiiiight before I started to give more than a single shit about my weight and health. In fact, it was probably within a week of when I started this blog series. You can see now why I decided to call it Diary of a Fat Girl. I don't care how many people were bigger than me or how non-life-threatening my weight was...look at the expression of glee on my face as I'm about to dig into that delicious ice cream (now, granted, this was at a cabin where I had no control over the food and my pickiness meant that I would exist almost entirely on ice cream the whole day, but I digress). Look at the impressive muffin top/spare tire/plain ol' gut going on there. I thought that t-shirt made me look GREAT. Seriously, I genuinely found that shirt to be flattering when I was at that weight. Maybe I was just looking at my own cleavage. Regardless, I clearly was operating from a different perspective back then.

Graduation Up-All-Night 2002

I've always had some weight issues, but it didn't start out this bad. In high school, I typically wore a size 12 in pants (large, leaning medium for you gents) and maintained a weight between 150 and 170, although I wasn't weighing myself regularly during that time. I drank multiple Mountain Dews a day, ate Doritos daily, had a giant cookie for lunch at school, and did not give a second thought to portions, servings, or any of that other shit. I didn't realize it at the time, but the fact that I walked literally everywhere (we didn't have a car) allowed me to nurture these awful relationships with food without ballooning to 300 pounds by the time graduation rolled around.

Move-Out Day 2003

My freshman year of college proved somewhat counter to the general expectation. By the end of the year, I ended up losing probably 10 pounds, though I can't remember how much I weighed at any given point during that time. I hated most of the food served in the dining halls and had yet to discover the glory of the student union food court and the fried bonanza known as "Late Night" that began after dinner service ended. My roommate (pictured) and I even occasionally woke up early to haul our asses all the way across campus to exercise at the tiny gym. Granted, we didn't know any better and just spent a half hour recumbent cycling before walking home, but it was better than the zero exercising we did most of the time. Freshman year ended up being the last time I saw a weight in the almost-healthy range for a while.

End of the School Year 2004

 Throughout the rest of my college career, I fluctuated in the "chunky" weight range, comfortably fitting into size large everything, and sometimes medium. I considered this to be my standard weight and appearance, and only sometimes made efforts to live more healthily.  I wasn't really happy, and if you had asked me what my ideal body would have looked like, I would not have replied "pretty much this."  But I didn't really *care*.  So I didn't do anything.

Iftar (Dinner during Ramadan) 2005

When my school opened its big fancy gym at the end of my junior year, I went with some semblance of regularity, but my eating had become absolutely atrocious and no amount of elliptical training was going to undo the damage I was doing to myself at (and between) every meal. I hovered in the 170s of weight at this point, unhappy but not ready or willing to do anything about it. I made liberal use of thigh shapers and suck-it-in!-type clothing anytime I was not wearing jeans and t-shirts.

Summer Job Faux Prom 2006

After graduation, I began teaching and found that my only viable lunch option near work was a McDonald's. With a half hour lunch break and no car, I was limited to anything within 5 minutes' walking distance, and everything else in the area was Mexican or Japanese, not up my alley. I would occasionally make food at home and save leftovers to bring to work, but this was often not feasible or at least not preferable. By the end of the school year, I had gotten into the habit of eating a #10 every single day for lunch, which clocks in at just over 1,000 calories for those of you keeping score.

Brother's Wedding 2007

The next two or three years saw the most impressive gains in weight, and I basically didn't notice. It was so gradual and I was so used to being fat and unhappy that it just didn't occur to me that this was any different than I had been in college or even high school. I went from 12s to 14s, no longer fitting into medium anything, and sometimes preferring XLs.  I never fit into any of my clothes properly anyway, and I had no real experience with what it felt like to fit into things well because I was always chasing a smaller size than I should be wearing, so I rocked some pretty awful clothing choices, size-wise, thoughout this time. I knew it wasn't going well, but I had no reference point for what "well" was like

Wedding of Aforementioned Roommate 2008

I drastically overpaid for a 6-month membership to that fancy university gym in the hopes of recapturing my vaguely healthier time in college, but I rarely went and ultimately ended up burning that money at a time when I genuinely could not afford it. I went from C to D tits (the only thing I was fine with), bought a belt so I could wear pants that fit my enormous thighs without sliding down, and fostered a wonderful set of back boobs. Again, I didn't *feel* fatter, because I had always felt awful and bloated, so I wasn't able to see any of these changes as connected to any actions. As far as I was concerned, stuff like back tits were new symptoms of the same disease I had always had, and nothing had really changed.  When I began grad school during my third year teaching, any mental work I had done trying to psyche myself into becoming fitter (happier, more productive) was suddenly re-appropriated for the endless readings and papers involved in my coursework. I knew that if I ever hoped to lose weight, it would not take place during grad school. The stress was unbelievable and unrelenting.

Alzheimer's Walk 2009

Starting in 2009, I began to balloon out to nearly 200 pounds. It wasn't drastic and it wasn't a surprise. I knew I wasn't doing what I needed to do if I wanted to weigh less, so I made perfect sense to me that I would weigh more. I went up to a size 16, officially an XL, and finally started to get mad about my weight. I don't know why my attitude shifted, and even now I'm not sure if I was mad at myself or at the world, but I no longer felt as though my weight and unhealthiness was a fact of life that was both inevitable and permanent. I didn't lose fifty pounds right off the bat, and I didn't make huge sweeping changes that altered every aspect of my life. But I still start trying to do *something*.

Halloween 2010

At first, it was stuff like Turbo Jam and caloriecount.about.com. I didn't really know anything about anything, but I knew that I had to deal with both the food thing and the no exercise thing. On multiple occasions, I went down ten pounds, then back up eleven, then down fifteen and back up seventeen. I always seemed to bounce back up to my old weight plus a pound or two extra.

That gets us back to the summer of 2011 and my ecstatic fucking ice cream face. I had taught for five years, finished the coursework for a masters degree, bought a goddamned condo (well, jointly), and formed a stable and healthy relationship with a guy who liked to play video games as much as I like to watch (currently he's embarrassing his AI opponents in Saints Row: The Third). Basically, I had all my shit sorted out, my stress post-grad-school was dropping like a stone, and I became acutely aware of how fucking miserable my weight and my body were making me. I felt awkward and lumbering, weak, swollen...I wouldn't even fully realize how yucky I felt until the weight started coming off.

Post-Zombie 5k May 2012

Beginning with this blog and the promise of zombies chasing me relentlessly, I began to work comprehensively and relentlessly on myself. I read books, browsed websites full of research and advice, logged obsessively on myfitnesspal.com, and eventually joined Fitocracy. It was through these websites and resources that I began to learn enough to make real, concrete changes in my mentality and habits.  I measured food on a scale all the time, which still seems a bit OCD, and tracked every calorie every day.  I still do that, over a year later.

I began to see my relationship with food and my body as primarily psychological in nature rather than physical/practical. I still eat shitty food pretty regularly. Sometimes I go over my calories for the day. But I have been losing weight for 18 months and I'm not looking back.  I do my best not to let the stalls and plateaus affect me, because I know that maintenance, at least for me, is its own kind of progress, and that I am doing good work. Perfection is not the goal; improvement is.

July 2012

I'm comfortable enough in my new body and lifestyle now that I've started to become scared of reverting to my old ways and old health. Before, I had tried and failed so many times to effect any sort of long-term weight loss that I considered the return to fatness a standard part of the process. It didn't upset me to go back up to an old weight. It was just what happened. Now, having almost 100% new clothes, loving my body for the first time ever, and shifting my focus towards overall health and accomplishments rather than just a number on a scale, I'm fucking terrified of what it would mean to gain that weight back.

August 2012

But I think it's good to be scared. It keeps me focused and accountable. Having positive things to head toward is wonderful, and that's the stuff that keeps me motivated day in and day out. But having negative things to run away from has its own benefits. If I'm not driven to go for a run because of the wonderful way I'll feel afterward, maybe I'll get my ass out on the road because if I don't, I'll blow up like a puffer fish and have to go buy all my own clothing back from the Good Will down the street.  It might be an exaggeration, but if I'm not scared, it means I'm complacent, or worse - indifferent. I won't let that happen. I look and feel too awesome to let it get like that.

November 2012

Why I Will Not Pretend to Mourn John Silber

John Silber died today.  He was the President of Boston University, my alma mater, for 25 years, and Chancellor of BU for the better part of the decade after.  It was during my time as an undergrad at BU that he retired from his Chancellor's post and became President Emeritus, which in his case meant that he officially retired but always seemed to be around.  Silber was and continues to be a legend at the university, feared by many, respected by most, known by all.  Sherborn Street, the road connecting Commonwealth Avenue to my former street, Bay State Road, was officially renamed Silber Way in 2008.

When I was a student at BU, I despised John Silber.  I considered some of his policies, notably the guest policy, to be backward and oppressive.  Under the Silber guest policy, residents who had guests would either need to kick said guests out at 8pm or apply for an overnight pass (limited in number per semester).  For residents who had guests of the opposite gender, a resident of the same gender as the guest would need to co-sign for the guest and take responsibility for that guest.  For example, a female student with a male guest would need a male resident to sign off on the guest.  Silber repeatedly defended the gender aspect of the guest policy, asserting that he would not relax the rules in order to permit students to have "weekend love nests" in their residences.  I got the gentlest version of these draconian policies because I lived in a small brownstone with no security desk or university scrutiny.  Even so, I was delighted to hear that the policy was changed in 2007.  It did not bother me that the former policy affected me so much - in fact, it essentially did not - rather, I simply found it to be morally wrong.

But the real problem with the old guest policy, and my real problem with John Silber, is the rigid adherence to "traditional values".  Despite having run as a Democrat in the 1990 gubernatorial election (and losing, partly because he always seemed angry, and alienated many liberal voters with his conservative rhetoric), Silber would be right at home with many Republicans today, particularly on social issues.  In the Fall of 2002, as I took my first classes at Boston University and met many of my future best friends for the first time, John Silber disbanded Boston University Academy's gay-straight alliance.  Claiming that the high school group was not, in fact, a support and discussion group for LGBTQ students and their allies, Silber charged that they were recruiting brand new gays with "homosexual militancy."  Arguing that the school did not intend to provide "sex ed" in the form of a GSA, Silber shut the group down to put an end to the "evangelism" that was taking place.  I cannot speak to the mission or actions of the BUA GSA, but I can say that the GSA in my high school was a great place to feel safe, talk about school, and eat bagels.  I don't ever remember anyone trying to talk me out of liking boys.

What I find so disturbing about John Silber and his stances on social issues are his arrogance and condescension.  Although I cannot claim to have read his collected works or attended many of his speeches, I have read and heard enough to know that his opinions are set in stone.  He does not fare well in gray areas with wiggle room - things are or they are not, and decisions should be made accordingly (it is no surprise that Silber studied and followed the writings of Emmanuel Kant, a philosopher who valued logic above all else).  In fact, when Silber put his name in the running for Superintendent of Boston Public Schools, Menino was concerned that Silber would not be a good fit for the job because of his unwillingness to work in a nuanced, delicate, and careful way.  There were two categories, as far as John Silber was concerned: Silber's thoughts and all of the incorrect opinions.  While many praised John Silber for his fortitude and firm stances on issues about which he has strong feelings, it is not hard to imagine how that quality could alienate some, which many blame for BU's embarrassingly low alumni giving rate during Silber's tenure at the university.  As a side note, BU's alumni giving rate has been rising in recent years and is now at 12%, counter to the pressures of the current economy.

I'm sure that as the news of Silber's passing spreads, my fellow alumni will express a variety of opinions about the man and his legacy.  There is no doubt that our experiences at Boston University were deeply colored by Silber's policies and presence.  I know that it's frowned upon to speak ill of the dead, but I cannot and will not wax mournful about a man who I found to be so personally abhorrent.  Although the news stories I have read have at least touched upon the more controversial and memorable aspects of Silber's career, the tone is, of course, overwhelmingly positive, as is required of any remembrances of someone who is not, say, a terrorist or mass murderer.  Silber made many positive changes at BU, and I agree with his choice to emphasize teacher quality rather than simply cultivate a staff of tenured professors who no longer have to try.  He brought in Elie Wiesel after all, so he isn't all bad.  But I will not pretend that I am sad about his passing, because beneath his rhetoric and philosophical positions, there was a bedrock of intolerance and disdain.  The world could do with a little bit less of that.

Diary of a Fat Girl - Episode 20: The Year in Fat

I'm sitting out on the back porch, sipping my Pepsi Max and enjoying the first non-deathly-hot-and-humid day in probably a week.  I've been empaneled on a jury for the last three days and it's getting exhausting - it's like being in a very, very long grad school class where at the end, instead of writing a paper, you have to decide whether or not someone goes to jail.  The weight of the responsibility and the absolutely horrifying details of the case have been wearing me down.  It is part of the reason that this post is a day late.  However, as I have learned over the past year, you gotta let a lotta shit go.  No biggie.  Woooooosah.

Upon re-reading my very first Diary of a Fat girl post, I realized that the introspective and conversational tone has leeched out of my more recent entries.  I could try systematically to diagnose that problem, but I think it's probably just that there have been no major things going on with my fitness/weight loss, and it's become pretty well incorporated into my life so as to become far less noteworthy.  To avoid such a fate here, however, I'm going to try something new.

Dear July 2011 Amber,

Hey, it's me, Future You.  As much as I would love to spend time telling you winning sports bets to make and shit like it's Back to the Future Part 2, I'm going to do my favorite thing - talk about me.  Er, you.  Or, uh, us.  Yeah, us.

At this point, you have a lot on your mind.  Thankfully, you did a smart thing and wrote some of that shit down, which was pretty helpful.  I don't know if you can tell yet, but it really did make a big difference to start writing about all the emotional, social, and psychological complexities involved in trying to lose weight.  Keep it up, and stay honest.

In a few months, you're going to join a website called Fitocracy.  No, don't join now; what did I just say? Anyway, this site is pretty neat.  The "exercise is a video game" element is cool, of course, but really what you're going to find valuable is the education and the community.  Most of the people there are super nice and supportive, and also have really good advice.  You'll have a lot of questions that feel like stupid questions, but the answers are waiting for you there, and no one will poke fun at you for asking.  Oh, and don't forget to follow Niobe back when she follows you.  I know you don't know her yet, but trust me, she's amazing and also posts really hot pictures of herself.  So...twofer.


There are some caveats to this whole Online Fitness Community thing, though.  You know how the internet tends to make totally normal people into assholes?  Well, even though I just said that most people on Fitocracy aren't dicks, it only takes a few to ruin it for everyone.  There will be petty arguments, judgmental douchebags, and lots and lots of elitist posturing.  People will make fun of ignorant individuals (many of whom fit into categories like curl bros and cardio bunnies) for being stupid, without seeming to recognize that those people are a) earlier versions of the cool people on the website who just haven't figured their shit out yet and b) the ones who need the most help and support, not derision and dismissal.  You will even laugh at, take part in, and initiate some of these fun-pokings.  It's probably because you feel super excited to know all the things you know now, and can't help but get elitist about it.  But knock it off.  It's not cool and it doesn't make you cooler to do it.


Also, a bit of education advice: don't stop learning.  Every few months you're going to feel like, "I just learned and incorporated the thing I was missing.  Now I have figured things out.  I know things now.  I have completed my learning."  Not only is this just stupid, but it also makes you slower to realize when you're starting to learn new things that you should pay attention to right away.  For example, right now you basically just do Turbo Jam for exercise, plus walking and sometimes a bit of elliptical-ing.  There's nothing wrong with any of those things.  In fact, Turbo Jam still kicks my ass, and I've been doing it for a year longer than you.  Well, not like a consistent year, but you get it.  Anyway, right now you think that you have this fitness thing sort of cornered.  Burn calories however you can, the end.


Well, that's not the worst way of looking at things, but you're excluding a lot of really fun, challenging, satisfying, and productive exercise.  Guess what?  When you're me, you'll be able to run a 5k no problem.  I shit you not!  I'm not saying that we become particularly speedy - in fact, our normal running speed clocks in around a very brisk walk - but we run now.  So that's kind of awesome, right?  But right now, I know you're thinking that running is fucking impossible and that just hoofing it to catch the T is beyond what can reasonably be asked of a person.  But that's before Couch-to-5k.  Trust me.  You won't start it until after the New Year, but when you do, it's going to blow your socks off.  Oh, and don't worry, the winter is going to be super mild.  That doesn't create a paradox if I tell you that shit, right?  Wait, am I my own grandfather now?  I don't really understand time travel.


So I guess what I'm saying is that you have to stay open to new things.  I know that we don't like new things.  New things are terrible.  BUT in this case especially, new things are awesome and we have to try them.  When you join Fitocracy and notice that everyone gets these crazy high point totals for lifting weights, you'll see what I mean.  The machines over by the cardio room are NOT the same as free weights.  I'm not going to bother schooling you now because you'll figure this all out (with a lot of help) later, but I'm just saying...keep your mouth shut 90% of the time and your eyes/ears open 100% of the time.


Unsurprisingly, I'm sure you realize by now, the whole exercise component of this is not the hard part.  Not by a long shot.  The fucking food thing is SUPER annoying.  Keeping track of food isn't really a problem, necessarily.  Soon Dan will get a food scale and you can go very OCD very quickly.  It'll help.  But trying to limit calories all the time can be a bitch, and you'll have to get used to what it feels like to be hungry.  Here's the cool part though.  You know how when you get hungry kind of suddenly, you can sometimes get light-headed and have a headache and get suuuuuuper pissy?  Well, when you stop eating shitty food for every meal and drinking full-calorie soda like it's a life-giving substance, that doesn't happen anymore.  Like, almost ever.  It's not something you'll notice right away (sort of like not being able to prove a negative), but eventually you'll realize that you just get hungry like a normal person, and nothing worse ever comes of it.  I think they call that "not being pre-diabetic."


But with all the up-sides to having more of a handle on the food situation, the problem is that you have to keep a handle on the food situation all the time.  The habits that you're worried about, where you eat terrible food in response to pretty much every emotional state and situation possible, those don't really go away.  I mean, I can't speak for July 2013 Amber (I suspect that Amber will be very busy, but I don't want to ruin the surprise, so I'll just say that good things are afoot), but July 2012 Amber still wants to eat chocolate and chips and fried food when things are rough, or when things are great, or when things are boring.  And as you know, those three states cover pretty much all the time.  So the battle to maintain good/better habits is something that's just part of our reality matrix now.  No use kvetching about it.  Just do the work.


And you do have to work for everything you want.  I know that right now, you're looking at skinny chicks on the subway or hipsters strolling Harvard Ave in the jeans that just seem to get skinnier by the day, and you're thinking, "why do I have to bust my ass to weigh 190, but those fucking shitbags get to be skinny while eating six McDonald's cheeseburgers and drinking fucking Starbucks 900-calorie frappuccinos all goddamned day?"  First of all, calm the fuck down.  There is no reason to get that mad.  Second, those people aren't actually healthy.  To your untrained eye, they certainly look healthy, and most of them would probably pass a standard medical exam with flying colors.  But they're not fit.  The double-zero girls would break in half if they tried to deadlift their own bodyweight, something you will accomplish next year.  The guys are just as weak.  Watch them run for the train or bus next time.  They huff and puff just as hard as you.  Having less mass means fuck-all.  Oh, and they're just as unhappy with their bodies as you are with yours.


This also dovetails rather well into a particularly important life lesson, and I'd love to save you some grief by imparting it to you now.  It's time to stop giving a fuck about what other people say and do.  I'm not saying you should go live in a cave and sever all social ties, and I'm not saying you should disregard the actions, words, and feelings of your loved ones.  I know it's been a whole year but I'm not a monster, geez.  What I am saying is that your bitterness about others' metabolism isn't helping anyone.  Neither are your judgments of others' habits and workouts, your butthurt when people online shit all over something you like (or were taught to do, or whatever), or your analysis of the way people talk to you about your weight loss and fitness schtick.  Right now, you give a LOT of fucks about that kind of thing, and it's a waste of time and energy.  It's a tricky game, because I just finished telling you to learn from people and keep your eyes/ears open, but life ain't black and white, baby.  Oh, and don't call people "bby" on Fitocracy - it's probably a Reddit thing that you'll never understand, but regardless of the origin, it's not part of your internet thing and there's no reason to appropriate it.  There is unbelievably immense passive pressure to conform on that website, and the last thing you need to do is start omitting an A because someone else did.  Everyone will still like you, it's okay.


One of the most important things you'll learn is that there are a lot of ways to do this right.  Everyone has their own "this is the right way" spiel to give, but in all honesty, fuck that.  If something helps and doesn't hurt, then it's correct.  That's a highly subjective and personal assessment, so things that work for you might not work for other people, and vice versa, but basically, don't start regretting shit like, "oh, why didn't I start lifting weights six months ago?" or whatever.  You will lose a bunch of weight doing mostly in-home cardio, and then you'll keep losing weight when you add a shitload of weight training and running.  You'll change  your calorie goals several times, going as low as 1200 and as high as 1800, and there are lots of days you go way over.  None of those modes of operation are The Right Way, per sé.  All of it gives you results that make you happy and healthy.  The whole year in front of you is full of teh win, and the ways in which you choose to execute that victory are all fine.  Don't start ranking your shit, like "oh, I am worth more today because I touched a barbell but yesterday I only ran so I wasn't worth as much."  All the shit you're doing is improving from where you used to be, so don't obsess over become more correct, more efficient, more acceptable to some unknown third party.  Somewhere behind all the lazy/indifferent/understanding/IDGAF in you, there's a perfectionist streak that gets really upset when something turns out to be less effective than you thought or when you feel you've wasted time/effort/whatever. Striving for your best is great, but there's no use getting upset about shit you can't change.  Use your energy for the future (hey, that's me!) and not for the past.


Oh, and with your squats, break from the hip first, not the knees.  That's half the reason you're so fucking unstable, and it takes you like 10 months to figure it out.  Flexibility couldn't hurt either.


Lots of love,
Future You

Diary of a Fat Girl - Episode 19: On Eating More, Branching Out, and Hitting a Benchmark

This part was written in June:
I've started writing this entry a few times in the last couple of weeks, more from a place of obligation than inspiration, if I'm being honest.  A few important fitness/health things have occurred in recent weeks, though the writing content associated with them is probably a collective paragraph (though let's be real - I'll probably talk your ear off about them).  Things have been pleasant and calm on the home front.  Dan's job keeps him pretty well exhausted most of the time, with on-call weeks and late work nights and long commutes, but it pays well and he enjoys the challenge.  My job is in the strange waking dream state that is post-senior/pre-summer June; because my program is so tiny, everyone takes final exams at the same time, and then seniors leave.  The few weeks after that are still a part of fourth term and count for grades, but the underclassmen who remain are already in summer mode.  This year, a particularly virulent strain of this disease has spread to the staff as well, and we're all silently wondering, "why am I still here?"  It's hard to blame the kids for feeling unmotivated and unfocused when we're having the same issues.

...Which is directly related to the next piece of news: I got an iPad.  And it is awesome.  Now, I can't really speak to the incredible capabilities of the iPad because I've been using it almost exclusively to play Plague Inc., a 99¢ game that has consumed nearly every waking moment of my life for the last week.  It's a strategy game in which you play as a disease (or as God, depending on how you look at it) with the goal of infecting and killing every last human on Earth.  With seven different pathogens (from bacteria to nano-viruses to prions, et al) and three difficulty levels, the game has more depth than I would expect for something that is seemingly so straightforward.  It took me a few days to really nail my strategy down, but I beat the last remaining level on "brutal" difficulty this morning on the train, which unlocked three cheat-filled bonus levels.  So I've got my afternoon planned out.  It's not like I have grading or planning to do...sigh.

The boredom is sort of pleasant, however.  Normally I'm a frantic mess this time of year, trying to finish projects for my second job (writing science workbooks) that are generally sent to the printer at the end of June or early July.  Although that job still exists, the amount and type of work have changed, leaving me with a smaller future paycheck but also a calm end to the school year for the first time ever.  In the evenings, I spend my time couch-surfing, web-surfing, and pandemic-modeling.  I have an abundance of free time, something I value extremely highly on the other side of grad school, and I'm not particularly eager to give it up.  I did take a summer job "teaching" summer school (in quotes because the kids are doing independent online courses and I'm a glorified lab monitor), but it's only 20 hours a week and there are two weeks off on either end.  I suspect that the iPad, or at the very least, several novels, will get plenty of use during that time.

That all being said, I do have a twinge of guilt over the free time because I've been using even less of it for fitness work, rather than using more of it.  It's only been about two weeks of slacking off, but it coincides with my adoption of a new lifting program, the parameters of which have me doing less work than I was doing in the first place.  So all told, I'm doing less each time I exercise and I'm exercising less often.  Not exactly the change I was going for.  The program I'm doing is from the book New Rules of Lifting for Women, something that sat in my Amazon shopping cart for weeks on end before I finally purchased it last month.  The book itself is a quick read (I finished it in about a day), but it's full of comprehensive info regarding nutrition, exercise guidelines/basics, and specific training schedules for lifting.  The routines are challenging and designed to avoid classic over-training (something I don't think I was guilty of, but I'm trusting the program right now and seeing where it takes me).  The Phase 1 exercises are mostly familiar (deadlifts, squats, lunges, lat pulldowns, cable rows, OHPs, etc.) with a few new additions (stability ball jackknifes).  I did switch from doing kneeling push-ups (aka girl push-ups) to incline push-ups using the smith machine, which were more challenging but also more doable, if that makes any sense.  My ROM is much better on the incline push-ups and I am able to do enough reps to be sore the next day; I'm hoping this will lead me to doing regular push-ups and will also improve my bench numbers.

One aspect of the NROLFW program is eating more calories.  Up until recently, I've been eating between 1200 and 1400 calories depending on the day (on days when I burn a lot, I eat more), which makes for a deficit of about 500 calories a day, suggesting weight loss of a pound a week.  I've gotten used to that level of eating, and I also got used to feeling hungry sometimes, something I would not have abided before.  NROLFW, however, suggests that eating at such a deficit is not particularly helpful, healthwise, and that only those looking to lose significant amounts of fat should be worrying about getting calories low.  According to the formulas in the book (which are pretty standard across multiple websites), I need about 1900 calories a day to maintain my weight if I'm not doing anything special (i.e. not working out).  On days I exercise, I need more like 2100-2200 calories to maintain my weight, though that number obviously varies based on what I do and how much I do.  To that end, I've increased my daily calorie goal to 1800 on most days with bumps to more on lifting days.  I drink a protein shake on those days, which I've gotten used to, and I try to eat more chicken breasts for dinner, even though they're too boring for even me.  The hardest part has actually been trying to care about macros, considering I get well over 50% of my calories from carbs every day (usually 55-60%, whereas it should be 40-45%).  Bumping up my protein and reducing my carbs is a lot harder for me than cutting calories in general.  Dealing with both number of calories and sources of calories makes the restriction more problematic, at least in my head.

The actual exercises in the program, however, seem a little too easy for me.  Given that the program recommends 2-3 sessions a week (and I've only been doing 2), there are several days each week that I am able and willing to do work but shouldn't do any strength training.  Some of those days are running days, which is something I'm still trying to work on in both speed and stamina.  According to my personal trainer (who is taking the summer off and might be moving....laaaaaaame) and several websites and the NROLFW book, I should be focusing on interval training rather than steady state cardio.  However, I enjoy longer easier runs a lot more than short, intense runs.  I know that "enjoy" and "should do" are not the same, and the beginning of the C25K program was closer to interval training than steady state cardio anyway (and I did just fine there and saw amazing progress in a short amount of time), so I know what I should be doing, but it's hard to get motivated to do it when I don't have a regimen/goal/schedule to work with.  If I want to hit a 10-minute mile, however, I would be better off doing short rounds of interval training than running a mile every week and shaving a few seconds off.

I have, however, had some running success lately.  On June 2nd, I ran in the 2nd Annual Pug Rescue of New England 5k in South Boston (Castle Island, to be exact).  Considering the RFYL 5k was more of a mud hike than a run, and considering I was held up for almost an hour at the final obstacles, the PRoNE 5k was the first real 5k race I've ever done.  The weather was as abysmal as it could be for June in Boston.  It rained heavily the entire time, with ferocious winds coming off of the ocean and spraying the runners with stinging salt water.  It was slightly cold, which meant that the wind and rain combined to make for hypothermia-inducing conditions.  On any other day, the route would have been beautiful: overlooking the ocean the entire time and ending near a historic fort with beautiful grassy areas everywhere.  But instead, it was a shitstorm.  Apparently, though, I thrive in such conditions, because I posted a time of 39:06, which beats my previous treadmill time by like 2 minutes.  I think it was a combination of the motivation boost of being in a real race with other people and the overwhelming desire to go home and get out of the rain.  It took me several hours (including a nap) to feel normal and warm again after that.  I'm hoping my future events are less taxing on my homeostasis.

[static hisssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss]

This part was written today:
Things have improved quite a bit, motivation-wise, since I stopped writing last month.  Once school ended, I found myself sufficiently refreshed enough to hit the gym about 5 days a week, rather than 2 or 3, and I have finally finished stage 1 of the NROLFW.  To be honest, I got pretty bored with stage 1 after a few weeks because it the same two routines back and forth for 16 sessions.  Without bench presses (which make me feel super-human even though I'm benching like 50 lbs) and any real variation between the sessions, I found myself going through the motions more than thriving in the activities.  Stage 1 is over, though, and thankfully the subsequent stages are all fewer than 16 sessions (most are half that) and have more exercises to do during each session (with the exception of a special stage designed to make me able to do a chin-up - which is going to be awesome).  So this past week I've been substantially less bored at the gym.  I've also starting doing interval runs, which are not as bad as I made them out to be in my brain.  I do need more running songs, though.

As for weight/calories/other things, I finally hit the 50 pounds lost mark at the beginning of June.  It was a much bigger deal at the time, because I've been stuck within a pound of that weight since then, although at least that was kind of on purpose.  My aforementioned calorie re-working put me right around maintenance, and when you combine that with a little bit of gym deceleration, you get stalled weight loss.  I didn't put a bunch of weight back on, which I'm happy about, AND I did manage to do a little recomp in the meantime.  I finally broke down and bought one of those impedance scales with the metal things you step on.  Yeah, it's not super accurate, but at least it's consistently inaccurate, if that makes sense.  Great for tracking delta-F, where F is fat.  If I "calibrate" this reading against the hand impedance meter I used at the gym twice before, I have lost at LEAST 3-4% body fat in the last 3 months, and if I ignore science and controls, then it's almost twice that number!  Of course, I have lost pounds in that time, so it's not all balanced by muscle gain, but I can only expect so much muscle gain/maintenance on a cut, even a meager one.  That being said, I am ready to start losing pounds (net) again, so I have cut my target calories from 1800 to 1600.  Still a lot more than the 1200-1400 I was shooting for before, but not so close to maintenance.  We'll see how it goes.

To be honest, the reason I'm so hastily wrapping up this entry is that tomorrow marks one year since I started my Diary of a Fat Girl series, and I intend to write something (hopefully) more interesting and more coherent than this mish-mash of unconnected updates.  If I allow myself the indulgence, they may be one or more numbered lists.  You know how I feel about that shit.  For now, please accept my apologies for passing this off as worth your time.  I could never be a professional writer because it pains me to throw anything out; I get attached to everything.  Exhibit A, ladies and gentleman.

Why Women Go Batshit Over Fifty Shades of Grey

Hi fellas, it's me.  I know I've been spending a lot of time and energy writing about health and fitness and weight loss and, well, myself.  I'm my own favorite subject and when you combine that with my affection for hearing my own voice (er, reading my own words?), you end up with a blog by me about me.  But today I'm going to broaden the subject area a little bit so that it includes me but is not exclusive to me.  We're going to talk about the latest reason to buy a Kindle, Fifty Shades of Grey.

First of all, though this should be pretty fucking obvious, there will be spoilers in here.  If you haven't read the entire trilogy (yes, for those of you who don't know, there are three books) and there's even a slight chance you might someday wish to do so, GTFO.  For everyone else, another brief disclaimer: despite the far-reaching title, I cannot hope nor do I wish to represent all women.  I am the owner of a single vagina and while I may empathize with other vagina-wielders, that does not make me a Vagina Master.  Subject-matter pun somewhat intended.

Fifty Shades is a trilogy about a recent college graduate (Ana) who meets a mysterious and powerful young CEO (Christian) to whom she is hopelessly attracted.  The two begin a sexual relationship under the terms of Christian's BDSM contract.  Yeah, I know, just roll with it.  Although Ana never actually signs the contract, the pair explore Christian's kinky desires and begin to form a non-traditional-but-still-more-than-purely-sexual relationship which eventually becomes a fully-realized romance.  They face many trials, both in opposition to one another and united as a couple against outside forces, and eventually fall completely in love, get married, and have kids.  Also, there is a sex scene every fifteen or twenty pages.  Maybe that's an exaggeration.  I'm fighting the urge to go count.

The incredibly sudden popularity of this book (which many attribute to the widespread use of e-readers, which allow for a more discreet reading experience) has made it a common topic of discussion in the media and among friends and co-workers.  It has been dubbed "Mommy Porn" more than once, and when you understand the content of the books, it's not hard to see why.  I myself heard about the series from a co-worker (and shortly thereafter was repeatedly told I should read it by several other friends) and decided that I should essentially read the first book ironically, much like Mark Wahlburg in The Other Guys learning how to dance to make fun of another kid.  I figured I would read it, make fun of the shitty writing, roll my eyes at people swept up in the romance, and move on.  I was wrong...I was very wrong.

The story is completely engrossing.  I've always been a fan of contemporary fiction (unlike some of my English teacher peers, who find themselves more interested in a book the less comprehensible and more archaic the prose is), and I get wrapped up in emotionally-dense dramas fairly easily.  The most memorable book I read before this trilogy was Outlander, and if you haven't read that, well fuckin' A, you have about 800 pages of craziness waiting for you.  I certainly didn't anticipate being just as drawn into the story of Fifty Shades as I was with Outlander, especially knowing that the former had originated as Twilight fanfic.  The popularity of Fifty Shades, despite its rather dark and left-of-center sexual content, is actually very revealing about what many women value and find attractive in a general sense.  I'm not talking about physical characteristics here - in fact, all I know about Christian is that he has copper-colored hair and grey eyes.  Like that's even a thing that happens genetically.  [Side note: According to Wikipedia, Ian Somerhalder has expressed interest in playing Christian Grey in a movie version.  If fucking Boone plays Christian, I'm out.  Fuck that guy.  Michael Fassbender or Ryan Gosling would be fine, of course...I mean, did you see Drive?!?]

What I am talking about are traits in a partner and a relationship that appeal to women (henceforth I will use the broad term without qualifying it with many, but let it be understood that I'm not talking about every single uterus - the same goes for when I say "men").  From here, if you'll go with me, I'll move into list format:

1. Women want to be impressed by you.  This is not to say that you need to be rich or supremely talented or speak 6 languages.  All of those things could count, but they are not a comprehensive list.  Things like generosity, a quick wit, or academic achievements can do the job just as well, provided that you're trying to impress someone who does, indeed, find such things impressive.  A pragmatic, stingy girl will undoubtedly look down on you for leaving an overly generous tip (also, on a related note, be careful about tipping hot waitresses much more than 20% if you're on a date...it's not too much of a stretch to misinterpret that).  In Fifty Shades, Christian is rich, influential, notorious, and very much in charge.  Although Ana isn't in it for the money, she can't help but appreciate that the dude is so successful, and frankly a bad-ass at business.  So, you want to make this desire work for you?
Get Some Tail: play to your strengths, don't be too shy about your accomplishments and skills, take a girl on a date where the activity makes you look awesome (as long as it doesn't make her look un-awesome)
Yeah, But Dude, Don't: act overly self-assured/cocky, compete with your date (at least, not at first and not with any real gusto), focus more on yourself than on your date

2. Women want to feel desired.  This should be pretty fucking obvious, but if my own experience means anything, it's apparently goddamned rocket science.  There are many, many, many ways to let a woman know you want her.  Simple compliments are always a good standby, and can be based on appearance or not.  More complex, time-consuming maneuvers can put a lot of goodwill in the bank - things like elaborate date nights, big surprises, and the like.  If it involves planning, then it counts.  In Fifty Shades, this communication is accomplished most often with a subtle but intense look - there's a lot of eye-fucking in these books, and body language is just as important as spoken dialogue.  Going out of your way to close the distance between you two can translate to I want to be near you.  An intricate home-cooked meal that requires a lot of prep on your part can mean I thought about you all day and did something for the single purpose of making you happy.  And, well, "You look hot" means pretty much what it says.  If a woman is confident that you want to be all up on her, she is much more likely to feel inspired to reciprocate and to allow herself to show you her desire as well.
Get Some Tail: make eye contact with her whether in silence or at significant points in the conversation, be open and honest about your desire for her, use words and touches that make her feel sexy (not self-conscious)
Yeah, But Dude, Don't: give her a compliment and then wave your boner around like you deserve a treat now, talk about how often you want to sleep with her to the extent that she might worry that her libido can't possibly compete with yours, assume that honking her tits every time she walks by is the same as telling her that she's beautiful

3. Women want to feel needed.  Christian in Fifty Shades goes from zero to First Officer Needypants pretty quickly in the series, which Ana seems cool with in general.  In this particular case, Christian's sexual desire for Ana is tied up in his emotional need for her, and her acceptance of this ties into #4.  Of course, all of this is intertwined to some extent, but it's hard to parse out too distinctly in Fifty Shades.  The reason that Christian's need for Ana works so well for both of them is that it's not a burden to Ana.  She does sometimes feel suffocated by Christian's possessive and controlling tendencies - which they discuss and deal with - but in general she is comfortable with how much he needs her because it mirrors her own need.  He operated independently of her before, so he is capable of doing his own thing (and often does, because of his hectic work); at the same time, he would spiral into an emotional hell if he were without Ana permanently, which would be an issue if she didn't feel the same way.  The intense emotional connection that goes beyond passion into true need is shared and is therefore comforting and wonderful.  If she needs you more than you need her, it's incredibly un-fulfilling and damaging for her.  If you need her more than she needs you, it's just sad and emasculating.
Get Some Tail: allow yourself to show her that you are disappointed when she's not available or that you miss her when she's gone, use clear and accurate language when talking about your feelings (if you could live without her just fine, then don't say you can't!), let her take care of you sometimes if she wants to
Yeah, But Dude, Don't: act like you're a child and she's your mother, be overly clingy or needy for extended periods of time, use the fact that you "need" her to justify petulance or bad behavior on your part

4. Women want to fix you.  This is probably the most misguided of all of the things here, and it can encourage really awful relationships to go on way too long.  The tale has been told and retold more times than I can count: man and woman meet, they fall in love, man reveals horrific personality trait (he's abusive or something), woman debates whether to stay or go, eventually the power of her love changes him so that he is now the model partner, everyone is happy forever.  With Ana and Christian, it's at least portrayed warts and all, with Christian's "improvements" coming slowly and after much work with a series of psychiatrists, but it still clearly has the "she loved him so much that he became a stable and loving person" thing going on.  Women want this to be true of all the flaws and fuck-ups they deal with in their relationships.  "If I care for him enough, he won't need to drink so much."  "My love will make him see that he doesn't need to put his dick in anything that moves."  "He won't hit me anymore if I give myself to him completely."  Yikes.  The reality is that everyone has the capacity for change, and that a loving relationship can foster that change, but only if the person in question wants to change.  Someone who likes hitting people isn't going to stop doing it just because you care about that person.  But women are shown, over and over, the fairy tale of fixing a man, which only encourages them to tolerate unacceptable behavior and nag their boyfriends/husbands in the hope of inciting change.
Get Some Tail: uh...I can't really recommend any ways to take advantage of this desire because it would be horrible to do so.
Yeah, But Dude, Don't: let her believe that she's "fixing" you when she's not, tell her you want to change if you don't, wait until she moves in to release the crazy

5. Women are dynamic creatures, and want you to at least understand this, if not be the same way.  In Fifty Shades, Ana is repeatedly surprised when Christian seems to know what her subtle reactions translate to ("she raised an eyebrow, therefore she is jealous but not angry").  She appreciates how intuitive he is with her and becomes frustrated when he is unable to understand where she is coming from.  His mind works so differently from hers sometimes (given that their concerns, histories, and goals are different), they approach the same situations from such different angles that it's hard for them to see eye to eye.  Ana is delighted, however, when Christian takes her feelings seriously and tries to understand her.

This is probably one of the scariest and most frustrating things about women, at least as far as I can tell since I'm not a dude.  If you tell her today that she looks nice, she smiles and is happy.  Tomorrow, you say the exact same words in the same tone, and she snorts and says, "yeah, I bet."  WTF happened?  Well, a whole day happened.  Inside a woman's head, everything is connected to everything else.  That's why a woman will so often tell a story about, for example, buying a can of bug spray but somehow also end up telling you about the terrible headache she had two days ago and the time she saw a co-worker at a restaurant and had that awkward moment where she had to decide whether or not to say hi.  All that shit is connected, if not by direct fact or time, then by emotion or sensory input or words...and at least in a story you can hope to follow those connections.  When it's just reactions and feelings, seemingly coming from out of no where, it can be confusing and even infuriating for the person being reacted to.  Basically, here's the sequence:

Man: Your eyes are beautiful.
Woman: Whatever.
Man: Fuck you then.
Woman: Fuck you too.

What you don't realize from the dialogue is that the man ignored the woman an hour earlier and didn't hear something important she said, and she was annoyed.  He has already forgotten it.  She isn't really still mad about it specifically, but she hasn't warmed back up to him.  He has no idea that his earlier slight has anything to do with her current mood, nor does he see any connection between the two interactions.  They're not related, they have nothing to do with each other, so they exist exclusive of one another.  To her, she has no reason to be warm towards him because he was kind of a dick earlier.  His compliment is meaningless because compliments given from the dog house (whether he knows he's there or not) are inherently manipulative and underhanded.  When he apologizes, or when an arbitrary amount of time has passed, then everything is okay again.  (Of course, the fuck-you interaction is going to extend the amount of grumpy time.)

The basic problem here could be solved by communication (see #6), but the disagreement is still rooted in the fundamental perspectives native to each party.  The issue that I have encountered personally and that seems to be prevalent in pop culture is that the male perspective is considered standard or normal while the female perspective is flawed/crazy/foolish/whatever.  I'm not a hyper-feminist anti-patriarch sort of gal, but it seems silly that in a world where the population is split down the middle between males and females, typically-female traits or behaviors are considered substandard or in need of modification to fit the norm.

[Side note: This discussion brings up a lot of other issues regarding gender identity, society-imposed gender roles versus physical sex, and sooooo many other things, but I'm just not going there.  Again, take the categories with a grain of salt - we all know men and women who behavior counter to or outside of the expectations of their gender, but I'm talking about the majority or average, not the exception.]

Get Some Tail: respect her perspective and feelings (and treat them as valid), tell her openly and honestly when her behavior or words are confusing, do your best to understand where she is coming from (but don't feel bad if you don't)
Yeah, But Dude, Don't: treat her feelings or actions as frivolous symptoms of PMS or some other "chick thing", use the word "crazy" fucking ever, fail to distinguish between a dynamic woman and a psychopath - or it could be your ass

6. Women's vaginas thrive on open communication.  In the same way that it caused Betty Draper's ass to expand to three times its original size, poor communication in a relationship can pretty much halt any bedroom shenanigans.  While there is angry sex and meaningless sex and all those other kinds of fornication, most intercourse is born from a mutual affection between partners.  The more passion people feel for one another, the more boom boom you get in the bedroom.  It is very hard to feel this way if the emotional basis for the relationship is faltering or injured in some way.  While there are many valid and perfectly reasonable excuses to skip a night of lovemaking, like being tired or stressed or busy, there is an easy litmus test to tell if it's "I don't want to bone" or if it's "I don't want to bone you."  Think of an amazingly sexy person that you would totally do if you could (say, True Blood's Eric Northman. Mmm.).  If that person walked in and wanted to get it in, would you be down?  If you answered yes, then I'm sorry, but it is something personal.

That's not the end of the world - in fact, in established, lengthy relationships, it's easy to pass up on sex when you're feeling borderline because, well, you'll have the same opportunity pretty much forever.  No need to pounce now.  That being said, wouldn't it be nice to want to pounce now?  This is where open communication comes in.  When Christian in Fifty Shades starts telling Ana about his dark past, all his fucked up demons and shit, she wants to comfort him.  With her cervix.  It's not the content of his revelations that gets the party started, it's the fact that he's sharing personal feelings with her.  A dude opening up to a chick will light alllllll the candles on her cake, if you get my meaning.  The same goes for having those dreadful relationship conversations where you talk about an argument you had or discuss your feelings or come to some kind of compromise on a recurring disagreement.  The conversations themselves are often painful and uncomfortable.  But afterwards, if the conversation is truly open and everyone walks away feeling heard and respected, the vagina is back on board.  When it is safe to truly commit yourself to a person, to feel passion without fear of immediate conflict or discord, that opens a lot of doors.  And by doors, I mean legs.
Get Some Tail: encourage her to be honest with you about her feelings and concerns (and actually listen), bring up your own concerns in a civil and open way, make upfront relationship-related communication a normal part of your day so you don't have to have huge Talks all the time (a friend of mine calls these "State of the Union addresses")
Yeah, But Dude, Don't: groan and roll your eyes when she says she wants to talk, minimize or disregard her concerns (even if you sincerely think they are trivial), internalize your own concerns in order to avoid conflict

7. Women need to know that they affect you.  When Ana bites her lower lip, Christian is seriously affected.  It turns him on, and he is very clear about this when she does it.  There are many other ways in which Ana affects Christian, but they are all the same - Ana does or says a thing, Christian gets horny/happy/excited/shy, Ana feels a thrill and satisfaction.  This is mainly an issue of ego, I suppose.  In order to feel validated and comfortable in a relationship, a woman will want to know that you care for her as much as she cares for you.  Much of this is accomplished with a simple exchange of words, often monosyllabic.  But beyond that "me too" thing, there is also the woman's desire to have an effect on a man.  This is related to (but not the same as or as harmful as) #4.  There is a lot of satisfaction to be had if a woman can look at her man and say "I did that!" whether that is an erection or just a smile.  Sure, there's something to be said for a guy playing it cool - after all, a first date is hardly the time to whip out your schlong and cry, "See what you've done to me?!?"  But once emotions are involved and there's a relationship to speak of, it's time to let your guard down a bit.  Part of this is simply sharing the feelings you would normally omit from conversation because they are embarrassing or irrelevant.  Telling your lady friend that you missed her, or that you thought of her when so-and-so did such-and-such thing, or that you're really glad she did whatever thing she did...all of those let her know that she's under your skin to some extent, in a good way.  Some of that comes from, I think, a desire to have power over a partner who is perceived to be stronger/bigger/in charge.  You could also consider those feelings to be the symptoms of their love, if that makes sense - you can tell a woman over and over that you love her, but if you don't show it, she'll doubt you.  Showing it doesn't mean flowers every day, or at least it doesn't have to; showing your love means (in this case) revealing things about yourself that demonstrate how affected you are by her and her love.
Get Some Tail: articulate to her how your life is better in a specific way now that she is in it, allow her to see your reactions to her (if you're playing video games and she touches your shoulder and it makes you happy that she touched you, then smile, jackass!), incorporate this sort of dialogue into bedroom sexy talk (if that sort of thing works for you)
Yeah, But Dude, Don't: minimize your reactions to her in favor of being Captain Cool Guy, assume that sending her a winky face and a heart via text is the same as looking in her eyes and telling her how you feel, value your ego over your relationship

8. Women enjoy attentions that are impractical, frivolous, immature, creepy, or otherwise over the top.  This one comes with many extremely important exceptions and conditions, but I'll do my best to explain by example.  Some of the most iconic and beloved romantic gestures of all time, when viewed under a practical and pragmatic lens, come off as way too much.  Romantic language is full of exaggerations and hyperbole which we all quietly understand to be false.  "I would go to the ends of the Earth for you."  Would you now?  Because last week you wouldn't go to 7-Eleven for me.  The Trojan War was fought over a woman.  That's fucked up.  Even far more recent shit - Lloyd Dobler outside Diane Court's house with a boombox raised over his head (playing the song to which they first made love)...it's a little stalker-y.  But it's still so romantic.  This is tied very closely in to #7.  Love makes you do stupid things.  It makes you go above and beyond the normal parameters of interpersonal relationships and do things that are counter-intuitive or just plain idiotic.  And if a man does those stupid things for a woman...well, he's affected alright.

That being said, there is a delicate balance here.  In Fifty Shades, when Christian's jealousy and need to control Ana interfere with her career and friendships, she is appalled.  They argue, sometimes repeatedly concerning the same issue.   But when his hyper-attentive nature matches Ana's needs, they are completely in sync and she delights in his affection.  How is a man supposed to know where the line is?  Well, you can guess or you can ask.  That's basically it.  There's no hard and fast rule.  If you think something would be creepy or way too intense, maybe don't do it.  But if your lady friend talks about how sweet it is that plastic bag boy from American Beauty burned Jane's name into the lawn...well, maybe it's time to invest in some lighter fluid and some good homeowner's insurance.  Basically, it comes down to combining two of a woman's needs: show her that you desire her by demonstrating how she affects you.
Get Some Tail: steal a line of dialogue or a part of a scene from a movie she finds romantic (avoid the Spider-Man upside-down kiss though...ugh), make a moderately-silly and immature romantic gesture like writing her a love note or carving your initials into a tree by your house, freely use hyperbolic language to talk about how you feel and what you would do for her (as long as it's based in real passion)
Yeah, But Dude, Don't: hurt yourself seriously while trying to be romantic (she'll just feel bad or maybe get embarrassed), draw attention to her if it makes her uncomfortable, exaggerate or demonstrate affection to the extent that it's disingenuous (don't use the L word unless you mean it!)

Springer's Final Thoughts: Notice how none of these points include things like "be super jacked" or "have a trust fund"?  That's because the basis of a real relationship is not that goddamned shallow.  Seriously.  Also, please don't start threatening to spank a girl on the second date...less than 1% of women would find that attractive, and it's much easier to suss them out on a website than it is to go through a hundred slaps in a restaurant before one lady gets all sex-ified by your proposition.  For now, it's time to wrap this up...it's taken me far too long to write this and it's already about ten pages too much.  Sorry 'bout that.

Lengthy Addendum: In my haste to end and overly-long post, I neglected to discuss directly the reason anyone gives a shit about this series: sexy time.  The love scenes in these books are without a doubt pornographic, despite the fact that E.L. James manages to avoid using any slang terms for vagina.  Thank god.  The success of the series goes to show that women like porn, too.  Most people, I think, assume that porn is something exclusively for men, and certainly they are the bulk of the market, especially for the stuff that's out there.  Men are often visual creatures, so videos of some 19-year-old "naughty schoolgirl" getting plowed on a desk by a moustachioed "professor" do the trick pretty well.  Senses beyond sight and touch are irrelevant, or at least secondary, and unless you're going to pay a hooker to touch you, then you watch some porn and do the dirty work yourself.  Some women work the same way, and god bless 'em.  I think most women, if you catch them in the right mood and show them a porn with at least moderately attractive people in it, are capable of being turned on by straightforward videos of sexual activity.  However, and I think I can speak for at least a significant minority if not a majority of women, there are a lot of ways that a porn can become a turn-off or just plain old sad.  Stilted dialogue and awkward interactions (verbal and physical) are bad.  Poor production value is bad.  Gross dudes are bad (obvs.).  Balls-flapping-in-your-face camera angles are bad.  Dispassionate sexy talk (especially extra vulgar for no reason) is bad.  Distractingly awful background music is bad.  And as we discussed earlier, women operate from a state of interconnectedness and everything-all-at-once-ness that differs from typical male compartmentalization; that means that distracting or unattractive elements in a porn make the whole thing bad.  And if you've seen more than a few pornographic videos, you know that this spells doom for the relationship between women and visual porn.

The existence of erotic fiction ameliorates or solves many of these problems.  There are no unattractive men, bad camera angles, distracting songs, or awkward interactions in erotic fiction (unless they are written that way, so basically never).  The person reading the story has to construct the scenario themselves given only the written word, which means that the translation from text to image is the best possible version for each individual reader.  What's more, it's far easier for a reader to insert themselves (okay, let's be honest, herself) into the scenario being described because there is no constant visual reminder that it's not you, it's the 19-year-old naughty schoolgirl.  Despite the lack of direct sensory stimulus with reading (relative to visual media, anyway, which at least gives you sight and sound), the experience of reading erotic fiction can be surprisingly immersive.

The problem with erotic fiction is that most of it is terrible.  The desire to write sexy stories seems to be practically mutually exclusive from the ability to do so well.  Bad grammar and awkward phrasing permeate most stories, and even the ones written with a competent grasp of mechanics are often plagued by issues of pacing, character development, organization, and clarity.  Although I cannot claim to have comprehensive knowledge of either pornographic movies or pornographic fiction, I suspect that there are just as many badly-written erotic stories as there are badly-acted/-produced porn movies.  Which is to say quite a few.  The prevalence of low-quality erotic fiction is one of the reasons that women don't interact with porn more often, though it's not even close to the primary reason.  While many criticize the writing in Fifty Shades, with its repetitive phrasing and some awkward prose, I can tell you now, it's the fucking Shakespeare of erotic fiction.  Not saying it's good writing.  Just saying.

This is only a theory, but I think it makes sense: women do not seek out porn because they are worried what it means if they do.  This has several sub-categories.  Women's misconceptions or preoccupations about porn (of all formats) keep them from accessing it: it's a guy thing, looking for porn makes me a slut, if I'm in a relationship then I should not want or need porn, porn is dirty (thanks Pilgrims!), porn is not for someone like me, and so on.  They believe that porn is only for the hypersexual ho-bags who have no morals (in fact, this is how many women starring in porn are portrayed, but that's another issue for another day).  For many women, seeking out porn means stooping to a lower level, giving up something essential and holy about themsleves, shoving aside the superego in favor of all id, all the time.  The negative associations with porn are legion and many of them stem from the Puritanical view of sex as a filthy and depraved act that should be suffered through rather than enjoyed.  In America, we use sex and sexuality to sell products and entertain ourselves, but when it comes to the act and the enjoyment of the act, we clam up, believing that sexual pleasure is something to be ashamed of, or at least hidden away in the darkest recesses of our lives.  We have become experts at sexual doublethink, much to the detriment of our own happiness and fulfillment.

Fifty Shades of Grey helps dispel some of the trickiest issues for women when it comes to porn and sex.  It is popular, so it becomes normalized.  It's written from the perspective of a woman by a female author pretty clearly writing to females, so it's not a guy thing.  Many of those who are reading it are married women who are neither over-sexed nor without morals.  Additionally, the way it is written and the feelings of the protagonist help ease women into a comfortable place with the story.  Ana has doubts and insecurities, she questions her own feelings but allows herself to take chances, and she has some of the same internal debates that most women would have if they found themselves in her extremely unlikely position.  She is a normal, successful, kind woman who enjoys sex with her partner (and often, that sex includes elements of kinkiness).  Her initially-shy conversations with Christian about her sexual preferences and desires - and, more importantly, his welcoming and open responses to her thoughts - model a way for women to open up to their partners about their sexual needs.  Even if she doesn't want her husband to spank her, for example, a woman reading this book now has access to a Mad Libs version of a conversation where she can fill in the things she does want and approach her husband about it.

This is why, gentlemen, you want your lady friends accessing porn.  While some of you may already feel this way and you want to high-five everyone you meet if your girlfriend is cool with acknowledging that porn exists, some dudes are more conservative, uptight, or just unsure about it.  What if she is going to porn because I'm not enough for her?  What if she prefers the guys she reads about/sees to me?  If she is feeling sexified, why isn't she initiating some boom boom with me?  How the fuck do you think she feels about your interactions with porn, ass?  Nobody is going to choose porn over a warm body in general.  Sometimes masturbation/porn is the answer to a given situation because the other person isn't available or the time window is too short or whatever (if you jack it twice a day, then yeah, porn becomes an essential survival tool).  But porn is nobody's competition.  So chill.  Do that whole "communicating" thing we talked about earlier and you'll figure it out.  But seriously, imagine that your lady friend watches/reads some porn, gets an idea for a new thing to do in the bedroom, and then tries it out with you and it's amazing?  You have porn to thank for that.  It's also a great way to open up communication about preferences - using the impersonal critiques of others ("Whatever that dude was doing with her feet was NOT working for me.") can be a safe and straightforward way to share information without hurting anyone's feelings.  Also, porn can also make excellent foreplay.  This only works if it's something that gets both people going, but when it works, well hoo boy.

While Fifty Shades is pretty clearly escapist fiction, it doesn't have to be a source of distance in a relationship.  Some articles about the series seem, at least to me, to characterize it as something that chicks read when they're unhappy, undersexed, dissatisfied, and bored in their relationships.  While I'm sure it would be a great temporary one-sided fix for that, this series does not have to be competition for or an enemy of a healthy romance.  A dude rubbing one out to a Victoria's Secret catalog might suggest that he is dissatisfied in his relationship, but more than likely it just means that the new bra line is rather flattering, and everything is fine.  If your lady friend is reading Fifty Shades and you're worried about what it means, just frickin' ask her if it bothers you that much.  Just please, I'm begging you, do NOT look up the basics of BDSM and then try to implement them with her sans discussion.  Nothing ruins a good book faster than a clumsy, poorly-executed version of the juiciest scenes.  Explore together; it's more fun that way.