I heart swine flu

I really ought to know better. I'm all about saving the world, but I really prefer to do it wearing Christian Laboutins. I don't own a pair of Laboutins, but I do consider their eventual acquisition a small but inevitable step (or maybe two) on the way to world domination. Fuck me if I'm going to fight the revolution looking like some clod-hopping, hairy-legged, communist bearded peasant.

The swine flu has had the US up in arms. Why? It's a flu, with a lousy nasty name, but at the end of the day it's a flu. No one would care about it except for its lousy nasty name, and for the fact that a lot of vaccines were made for it (thus creating a biological impetus for the flu virus to redesign itself into a stronger, better virus) and that it's an excellent way to pump the mainstream agenda that we are in dire need of the government shooting stuff up our veins to make us safe. It's a good precedent, in any case. If they manage to make progress on the road to forced inoculations, we'll be lining up in a few years to receive our anti-terrorism drugs. And one day, we can all look back at this and smile and say "the swine flu started it all".

But in the meantime, I fucking heart the swine flu. I finally managed to get my yearly debilitating seasonal flu, just in the nick of time. Due to the pressure of having to keep up with the Joneses, I decided it had to be be none other than the swine flu that had paid me a personalized visit. Thanks to the fact that I have no medical insurance and from all appearances would rather spend my money on a Rolex than on a doctor (unless I'm dilating) (can I just stress the word "appearances" for now, without getting further into it?), I didn't have to go through the red tape of having this confirmed by an expert medical opinion.

I had been having a hard time recently meeting my weight loss goals. Going to the gym, doing cardio stuff to bring my heart rate to 297 or so, plus weights, plus swimming, sauna and stretching really hadn't done anything at all, according to the scale. Trimming back on carbs, eating the good protein, etc etc made me feel a little more self-righteous but didn't even improve my skin in a noteworthy way. If this all sounds a little self-centered, let's not forget that I am an American girl, and my entire life's worth can be measured on a simple scale -- in pounds. US pounds. Anything over, say, 148, is already completely unmentionable. Unless you're 6'3", which I am not, and in which case, it's still unmentionable because one's height would already put one outside of the bounds of open discussion.

I never had a particularly hard time losing weight, because I tend to drop pounds like crazy when there is a major tragedy in my love life, which in the last several years I have had the good fortune of experiencing on a somewhat regular basis. You know, little things like the husband breaking up via email after he leaves the country -- for the fucking Sahara desert -- just to make sure I couldn't stalk him one last time to put a dead rabbit in his stew; or the [morbidly obese] father of my child spreading international rumors about me to his collection of married girlfriends -- and their husbands -- to prevent them from contacting me... While this is not the time and place to get into the nature of these events, let's just say that life's been on a major steady upswing for the past year and I had gained about 15 "love pounds" -- with no tragedies or prospects thereof looming on the love horizon whatsoever. So when I was touched by the divine hand of the swine flu, I was really quite tickled (*thank you Jesus*).

Also, I'd fallen off the "non-smoker" wagon, a fact I wasn't happy about at all. So in fact I got a two-fer with the swine flu: (1) I dropped 4 lbs in 4 days, and (2) it's a little difficult to worry about nicotine withdrawal when you can barely consider imbibing water.

The first day wasn't so hot. My bowels turned to liquid, which was a definite perk on the weight loss front, but combined with blacking out whenever I stood up, it was a rather unfortunate combination of symptoms. I pooped in my pants about 4 times that first day, but we all know that one must suffer to be beautiful, and scores of dirty underwear rinsed out hastily and draped like small victory flags in strategic areas of the house are but a small price to pay in America's War against Obesity. What with all my little victory flags waving high, the house started to look a little like a Tibetan monastery, but let's face it, I'm a fucking patriot, and these colors don't run.

The boyfriend, who was doing a fantastic job taking care of the children for me due to my delicate condition, found it rather amusing as well, once he was able to somehow compartment the "my girlfriend just shit in her pants" part in a category comfortably separated out from the "my-girlfriend-is-an-incredibly-alluring-sexy-fiend-at-all-times-when-she-does-not-have-poop-in-her-pants" category. For the first time in his 47 years, he even changed a diaper. Not mine. The two year-old's. Who, for the record, did not catch the flu because, among my other superpowers, I still make milk. My 10 year-old did catch it, which conveniently allowed him to catch up on hours of missed TV and make undue demands on his dying mother for foods he craved and which have not yet been invented, 2 activities which he appeared to enjoy very much from the relative comfort and security of the family couch.

Day 2 was a winner. I felt much better yet was still unable to consider the prospect of food, and my bowels continued to cooperate beautifully by turning layers of cellulite into water, or so I imagined. The scale was showing favorable results, indicating that I am a good person who does good things and that Jesus loved me very much. I was able to get out of bed a few times, I was drinking water to stay hydrated, I caught up on sleep, and at the tender age of 40 had already learned that important life lesson to "never trust a fart".

Day 3: more of the same. Was able to walk up or downstairs without blacking out or being completely exhausted. The boyfriend went down for the count (not a moment too soon: he is perfect in every way) and decided to take advantage of his swine flu by quitting smoking for the first time ever. I had been posting my recent Swine Flu Diet successes on Facebook and was getting good feedback (all from females), such as:

"Congrats on the swine flu! I think my son's got it (as of today) so I'm probably up next!!" and

"I am coming right over to make out with you! I LOVE a good flu - that quick 10 lb loss is soooo great"

which, in its turn, engendered a tremendously enthusiastic response from the male Facebook community, creating perhaps the first-ever erotic thread on the subject of swine flu.

Day 4: I learned why Pepto-Bismol doesn't have a big warning label on their cute little cherry-flavored tablets that screams
"WARNING! EVEN EXTREMELY LIMITED USE OF THIS PRODUCT MAY CAUSE BLACKENING OF TONGUE FOR UP TO 3 DAYS! DON'T WORRY, IT'S NOT THE BUBONIC PLAGUE, AND YOU ARE NOT TURNING INTO A CHOW HOUND -- IT'S THE CUTE LITTLE CHERRY-FLAVORED TABLET YOU ATE 3 DAYS AGO!"

Duh. You probably wouldn't take it either if you knew.

By day 4 I'd stabilized at around 4 lbs total weight loss and was feeling an appetite. Broke my 3-day fast with Flavor Blasted Xtra Cheddar Goldfish. Still disappointingly un-gaunt and un-waiflike, but quite frankly I couldn't afford to lounge around and play hooky much longer, and besides, I had to go shop for a new gerbil cage for my son (his gerbil actually chewed through the cage and has pulled several houdini's over the last weekend -- who knew how squirmy a gerbil can get, right?) and attend to various other functions of basic survival, including but not limited to making a living.

I got on the scale, which confirmed that I am in fact destined for greatness, that all my missteps are forgiven and that fame and fortune are awaiting me around the next corner.

Thank you, swine flu, for helping me get back on track with my weight loss goals and helping me -- and my boyfriend -- quit smoking. And if you are considering getting the swine flu vaccine -- especially if you are a woman over the age of 40 -- please read this first.

It reminds me of a cool church sign I saw on my way back from the childcare place this morning: "Praise the Lord anyway". Hallelujah. But that would be the subject of another blog.