So hungry!

Did you know that there are a bazillion internet sites where you can calculate your daily caloric needs in an equal number of ways and that they all come out to more or less the same thing? This pursuit was brought on by having actually tried on that gorgeous dress I purchased the other day, an exercise which brought to mind that scene from Pirates of the Caribbean where Elizabeth gasps, �I can�t breathe!� and promptly falls off the parapet to the ocean below where she is saved by the dashing and gallant (and oh so goodlooking) Jack Sparrow: for lo! I too could not breathe; at least I could not inhale deeply, which will never do if I want to wear it for a recital.

You see, about two years ago I had lost weight through strict monitoring of my intake (not so much my outgo because I am a slothful creature, but that will change) and was inspired to purchase sexy black leather pants and to make myself a cheongsam from purple silk that fit like a glove and made me look like a million bucks. I wore that dress to two weddings last summer and had to suck in my gut the whole time. At this point I don�t think I would be able to do up the zipper, much like the problem with my new garment. All this means one thing: I have gained weight. Why? Well, perhaps because I am slothful and do not exercise enough to use up the calories I consume.

But the truth, dear friends, is that I am a scant 5' tall with a smallish bone structure and, according to the various websites I consulted today, my daily caloric requirement to maintain my optimum weight, a mere 109 lbs. (which I weighed at my wedding and about two years after I had Little Princess, just prior to getting pregnant with Buddy Boy) is -- wait for it -- 1,600. Yes folks, that�s it. No wonder I gained weight. Who can eat that little and remain happy, let alone sane?

But I am determined to wear that dress in concert (and my purple Chinese silk, too), which means there has to be ample room for an expanding ribcage and heaving bosom (although I�ve always felt that it is bad form for a singer�s bosom to heave), which means that I must reduce back to my optimum weight which is a trifling six pounds less than what I presently tip the scale at, and that means -- dun da dun dun -- dieting.

Hence my perusal of websites today. A package of ramen soup noodles is meant to serve two; however, I have been making my lunch out of one, which is an intake of 400 calories at a shot. That beautiful European-style bread I bought yesterday has admittedly generous slices, but according to the package, they are worth 200 calories apiece. What a normal-sized person wouldn�t think twice about, I must eschew, or cut in half. Wah! The really sad part to this is that once I reach my goal (through incredible will power, self denial and perseverance), I must adhere to that magic number of 1,600 for all the days of my life.

That reminds me of one of those books that was never written but should have been: Extreme Weight Loss by Willie Makeit, illustrated by Betty Wont.

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