2000-11-07
Dear Diary:

It was one of those dreary rainy Mondays, the kind of day where you can feel your will to live slowly oozing out of your fingertips. So yesterday I called my buddy Eddie and we motored down to Vermont for one of our chicken liver lunches.

On the 40 minute drive down to our favourite restaurant, the conversation revolved around butt fat.

No, not butt fat as in, "Hey, do you think these pants make my butt look fat?" (That would be a given, we don't even pretend that it could be any other way with me.)

No, we were talking about actual butt fat, as in what makes the bubble in bubble butt. Oh, sure, the research scientists call it adipose tissue, but hey, we know what they're really talking about, eh.

Butt fat.

My buddy is obsessed with nutritional ways to fight heart disease and maintains a web site. He follows all the latest research and has even had a letter published in a major nutrition research journal. This is basically unheard of--usually you have to have a PhD to get your words heard in that kind of 'zine, they don't often listen to what lay people have to say.

I've mentioned the word "obsessed", right?

Just checking.

Okay, so the latest study to get Eddie's shorts in a knot involves butt fat. Using words of one syllable, he tells me that seeing as we are what we eat, the different fats we eat end up in our own body fat and um er ah one of the simplest places to find body fat would be the butt.

So study butt fat, study the heart healthiness of the people attached to the butt fat, and you may have a link between fats in the diet and heart disease. Or maybe not, if the study wasn't designed well.

(Stop staring at me that way. I'm NOT a scientist or a nutrition geek. I am a middle-aged woman, all my friends are middle-aged, and by the time YOU neonates get this old you will be quirky and obsessed about odd things too. Be afraid. Be very afraid. There may be a butt fat fixation in YOUR future, eh.)

So where was I? Oh yes, so while Eddie is explaining all the ins and outs of this study, I (being the type of person I am), well, I am mulling over two basic questions:

1) How do you write up the protocol for a butt fat study? How do you couch the idea, "Gimme money so I can study butt fat, please" in scientific terms?

2) How do you convince people to give you some of their butt fat to study?

Check our Mr. Heart Healthy's dessert, eh. This means that all the while that I am nodding as if I understand the rest of the conversation, my short attention span has actually only latched on to the two points above. The rest of the details and the conclusions of this study, which Eddie was explaining to me in painstaking detail, just went whoosh, right over my head.

Good thing we can't read each other's minds, eh?

Oh and check out my buddy's dessert. Yep, that would be nearly four inches of heart pluggingly good genuine whipped cream on that fresh fruit, eh.

That picture basically illustrates the other cool thing about getting older, eh.

Not only are you allowed to get ever more eccentric (just like me), hey, you don't have to always make sense, either (again, Just Like Me). Eddie worries about fat and heart problems, but he still enjoys whipped cream, too.

I hear the contradictions only get worse as you get older. Woot woot woot, I can hardly wait!

--Marn

Tell me the big orange one doesn't look like an Ed to you, eh.P.S.--This display was on the porch of the restaurant where we ate. I looked at it and my first thought was, "HOW can they be sure all these squash are named Gord? Some of these guys look as if they could be an Ed or a Dave or maybe even a Bob."

Gord and Gourd, get it? Homonym humour. I think I need to get off the mountain more, eh.

Old Drivel - New Drivel


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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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2000, 2001, 2002 Marn. This is me, dagnabbit. You be you.