Lisa and her daughter, Francesca Serritella, have teamed up to bring their hilarious and witty perspective on the everyday life as mother and daughter in their weekly essays which you can find in their latest collection, Meet Me at Emotional Baggage Claim. With stories that will have you laughing out loud one minute and tearing up the next, Lisa and Francesca connect with readers on a deeply emotional level because of the honesty they bring to their stories and by the time you turn the last page you will feel like you just found two new best girlfriends. Earlier collections include Why My Third Husband Will Be a Dog, My Nest Isn't Empty, It Just Has More Closet Space, and Best Friends, Occasional Enemies.
Chick Wit: The Truth Tastes Delicious
Lisa Scottoline | March 2, 2014
I'm trying to lose weight and I wonder if I need a nutritionist.
Or a miracle.
Our story begins when I notice I've gained seven pounds over the winter.
This can't be my fault.
I blame the snow.
Let's all blame the snow!
And instead of running around with yardsticks, we'll use tape measures. In fact, we should redo the snowfall maps on the TV weather report and put up the inches we gained on our waistlines.
Six inches in Chester County?
And it's sticking?
To my butt!
I didn't even realize I'd gained weight until I had to get dressed for a speaking engagement, which meant I had to unpeel the fleece sweatsuit I'd worn through November, December, and January, and put on clothes that had actual seams.
In February, seams are not your friend.
Turns out, neither are zippers or buttons.
I guess I was fooled because my fleece sweatsuit is black.
In it, I look like a licorice jellybean.
Anyway, to stay on point, I was going to wear a wool blazer with my nice jeans, but neither fit at all. Even my boots didn't fit, because my calves had gotten bigger.
Here is what fit:
Luckily, my fingers retained their girlish figure.
It was a foregone conclusion that I couldn't get into my jeans, because I can't get into my jeans unless the stars align, but I knew I was in trouble when my boots wouldn't go on.
And then I couldn't button my blazer.
What's a jellybean to do?
I changed into a double-breasted jacket and buttoned it on the outer button, so it looked like a maternity wear for the menopausal.
But after my gig, I got serious and wanted to start a diet, but I didn't know which one. Also, at the same time, I wanted to stop eating anything unnatural, like fake sugar.
Plus I'm also vegetarian.
That means there's one thing I can eat.
But I don't know what it is.
I had gone on the South Beach Diet before, but that's kid of meaty, and I'd read a book called Wheatbelly about eating less wheat, but I didn't think that would help, since I had an EverythingBelly.
So I tried to cut down on my caloric intake and had a hard-boiled egg for breakfast, a bowl of soup for lunch, and a kale salad for dinner.
I couldn't stick to the diet, and after a week, I was eating tons of pasta for dinner, and for dessert, dumping raw sugar in my coffee and practically bathing in salted caramels from Whole Foods.
Whoever invited putting salt on sweets was an evil genius.
I gained two pounds.
And I began craving salty/sweet things at night.
Like Bradley Cooper.
I tried to educate myself on nutrition by ordering more books and watching an online video by a Dr. Robert Lustig, called Sugar: The Bitter Truth. And I learned that instead of blaming the snow, I should have been blaming the sugar.
The video had been viewed 4,359,323 people, which meant I was the 4,359,324th to learn the following:
Sugar is bad. Don't eat sugar. Fructose is bad. Don't eat fruct.
Ghrelin is the hunger hormone, and fructose does not suppress ghrelin. Nothing suppresses ghrelin except salted caramels.
Fructose is not glucose even though they rhyme.
Leptin is a hormone that tells your brain you're full. I suspect I am fresh out of leptin, and they don't sell it at Whole Foods.
And the bitter truth?
I need something else to blame.
The sweet truth?
I have a sweet tooth.
© Lisa Scottoline 2014