"Food should be a source of joy, not agony. Exercise should be about enjoyable movement, not penitence. We should respect our bodies' wisdom."

I am not going to get all preachy and tell you that you should love your body. Because I would be a hypocrite. But, you should try to focus on the positive things about yourself, and not what you perceive to be the negative. I know it's hard...Lord knows, I know...but as soon as I find myself grimacing in the mirror, I really do try to find at least one thing that I am proud of. Like maybe I feel fat, but my hair looks luscious and shiny... when I'll think to myself, "DAMN, I am HOT!" and it makes me feel great ;)

When I was in college, I was determined not to gain the freshman 15. That dreaded number that every mom, aunt and grandmother warned me about before I went off to Boston. I took to going to the gym everyday for hours, eating only Special K for breakfast and dinner, and having a salad with chicken for lunch. Yogurt and pineapples were my "binge" items. By the time I went to bed, my mouth ached because of all the pineapple I devoured during the course of the day. But that is neither here nor there. I had an unhealthy relationship with the need to get skinny and the need to burn calories.

I was at my thinnest during my sophomore year. All that exercise had paid off! I was down to my goal weight (give or take 5 lbs). I wasn't emaciated or anything like that. I was not a bobble-headed girl, who was dead to the world. But something was happening. I looked good on the outside, while I suffered on the inside; until one day, my brain and my body went on strike.

Now, I can go back and forth attributing this crash to many things, but the one thing I know for sure is that my perverse lifestyle had caught up to me, and I needed a break.

That break has lasted for almost three years. And there have been times where I have been miserable because I stop and think, "Why did I just let it go?" I naively "remember" being the happiest I ever was, when I was squeezing myself into a size 4. But I guess hindsight is 20/20.

I was happy, because I didn't have to hear comments from my well-meaning family, about losing "5 more lbs", and I was happy because I could go straight to the size 6s and 4s in any clothing store. I was proud of the body I had sculpted. All that hard work, all those hours! It was great. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that I was obsessed. It wasn't my weight that was harmful, it was my mindset.

If I didn't go to the gym at least once a day, I felt miserable. I would beat myself up all day, trying to come up with ways to make up for my "laziness". I knew exactly how my clothes were supposed to fit and if there was anything that I thought was out of place, I would rush to the gym and try to make it right again. I couldn't think of any else. It consumed my every thought.

It has taken me a while to get to a place, mentally, where I am now going to the gym on my own terms. I am not doing it for my family. I am not doing it to prove anything to anyone. I know what I am comfortable with, I know where I want to be, and I know what is healthy for me. If I miss one day at the gym, I don't beat myself up. I balance it out, in a healthy way. I no longer have that aching pit in my stomach, that mean voice in my head telling me I'm not good enough. I feel even better than I did back then, because my joy and acceptance are genuine.

Reading Hungry, it was like having an opportunity to look at who I was back then. Like I said, I wasn't emaciated. I didn't stop eating altogether. So I can not go as far as to say that I know what Crystal Renn went through. But when you have that obsessive body-dismorphic mentality... it's like you are part of a club. A club that has no parties, because you'd then have to worry about whether or not you should eat that awesome guacamole or those delicious empanadas.

The writing is a bit elementary in this book, but the story is compelling. Renn is given an opportunity to model, if she loses weight. On her quest, she enters the obsessive world of anorexia. She slowly realizes modeling is not all it's cracked up to be. She loses her motivation, her hair and herself. And then she has, what Oprah likes to call, an A-HA! moment. She's not happy and doesn't want to suffer anymore, so why not become a plus-size model? Once she makes that decision, her career skyrockets. She gets more photo shoots then she ever did as a "straight-size" model. And most importantly she's happy.

Do you remember this ad? Her story is inspiring for women who have struggled with weight and she is role-model for girls who are suffering in the "straight-size" modeling world. And to top it all off, she is doing her best to break down the barriers for plus-size models.

"It's essential to see that size is only one of the battlefronts. Those of us who want to see more plus-size women represented in fashion should also be supporting the use of more women of color and age. There's strength and solidarity in numbers. Diversity helps us all. And thin people are not the enemy...We have to change the culture by rewarding and applauding diversity in all its forms, not by vilifying individual women."

"One of the great disadvantages of hurry is that it takes a long time." G.K. Chesterton

So, I have been gone for a while...We're almost done with September and I don't even have one post. SHAME ON ME!

I could riddle you all with excuses for my laziness, but that is just it, there are none. I have just been too lackadaisical to bring myself to the precipice of my keyboard and spew out insight on the wonderful books I have been devouring during this time.

Do you want a quick re-cap??? Ok, here you go:

1. Firefly Lane by Kristin Hannah

An amazing tale of two friends, spanning three decades. Have you ever forced yourself to read a book really slowly, just so you wouldn't have to give up having the characters leave your life so quickly? (No? You should try it with this book, The Knitting Circle by Ann Hood, Bel Canto by Ann Patchett and Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger) This book was about 450 pages long, and even with my prolonged reading, it ended too fast.

I can remember what it was like to be a young girl who felt out of place but was kept afloat because of my great friendships with people who got who i was and accepted me all the same. This book reminded me that a good friendship is like a good marriage. You're in it for the long haul, you accept each other's faults and strengths and love each other unconditionally.

The tangled relationship that Katie and Tully have is something to envy. Even with some harsh words and painful events, they overcome them together. This book broke my heart, but only in the best way. An easy friendship is one that you work hard at effortlessly. Or at least that's what I think.

As you can tell this book bubbled up some intense sentimentality for me. It made me think of all the friendships I've had over the years and which ones have withstood the test of time/college/pubescent attitudes, etc. And I am thankful that I have friends from every walk of life. From when I was 3-years-old to when I braved the streets of Boston for 4 years. Those that can pick up from where we left off, be it hours, days, months or years. Those are the friendships I am thankful for and appreciate the most.

2. Breakfast at Stephanie's by Sue Margolis

After I finished sobbing over Firefly Lane, I knew I would have to counteract that lovely, familiar, literary pain in my heart with something light and predictable. Chick-lit can take me out of even the most terrible funk.

Stephanie is a single-mom and an aspiring singer. She has a close relationship with her grandmother and gets into some mischief when she's faced with picking between her son's father and a colleague of hers from the past. Of course she ends up with the right guy and with a wonderful career as the book comes to a close. I loved following the standard chick-lit plot, and even though I knew how it would presumably end, I still got that flurry of anticipation and anxiety when there were catastrophes and unforeseen hurdles to get over.

It was a fast and easy read, nothing too deep to furrow your brow over. I loved it.

3. The Official Book Club Selection: A Memoir According to Kathy Griffin

This book was surprising, because although it did have that classic Kathy Griffin humor, it was also sprinkled with serious anecdotes about her family and her rocky career path as a comedienne. It is definitely something that you should consider reading. Those of you who do not like Kathy may get to see a side of her that you can actually identify with.

(Merits its own post, so more to come later)

4. The Beach Street Knitting Society and Yarn Club by Gil McNeil

I try my best to switch from reading something light to reading something a little more serious. It keeps me grounded and more importantly gives me street cred with my annoyingly observant book-loving friends. I have more often than not been told that I am a chick-lit junkie and that I should seriously look into some sort of re-hab clinic. As you can see, my venture into "serious literature" does not travel far into the bowels of Truman Capote or a historically accurate account on the Cold War. It is something more substantial and thought-provoking. A book about knitting and self-discovery. I know, truly ground-breaking stuff here, people.

Regardless of its ranking on the gravity scale, I really liked the story. Jo Mackenzie, is on the brink of a divorce when her soon-to-be, cheating ex-husband dies in a car accident. Left with her two young sons, she moves out of London and back to her small sea-shore hometown and takes over her grandmother's wool shop. This book is a mixture of small-town quaintness and paparazzi-worthy panache. Along with acclimating her family into a new environment with meddling old biddies, Jo manages to befriend a celebrity, stage a "knit-it" to save their public library and found a "Bitch and Stitch" club for the women of the town.

Jo's story was fun to follow; however, the only thing that I found a bit off-putting was the intense British-ness of the book. Don't get my wrong I've read my share of dry-humored, wit-filled British novels, but normally the authors tone down the British-isms so that you don't trip over their colloquial phrasing. But, Gil McNeil did not hold back. Even with the over use of "cuppa", all in all it was a pleasant read.

Shall we delve into my private psyche for a moment? Okay.

Whenever I read a book about knitting, I instantly get inspired and come up with a million projects that I want to tackle in a day. But, hold on, let me take out my last knitting efforts since I read one of these books...oh here we are, scarves for all my friends for Christmas, five little squares knitted in an attempted to make a blanket and a half finished throw with colors that would put my own grandmother to sleep (really? teal, white and cream...sounds like it could be nice, but alas, it is not)

But I am not one to look adversity in the eye and walk away! I will not be put off by my embarrassing last efforts! I am absolutely positive this time will be different...now where did I put those needles?

5. The Buenos Aires Broken Hearts Club by Jessica Morrison

(Post to follow)