Bojangles "Bo" A (formerly Principe, when he belonged to an elderly Cuban couple and likely dined on vaca frita) is a most fragile little man. Due to a congenital limb deformity, his gait is comically lopsided, hence the name Bo for "bowlegged," and also neurologically impaired as he has a little seizure disorder in which he nips at imaginary flies in the air. His underbite renders his mouth chronically crooked and gives him the gaze of the perpetually confused. He is delightfully defective, like the rest of the As, and was settling in to his new life amongst the Pinecrest pups when he took a little tumble.. off of my mother's bed. And broke his leg. And required 3000 dollar surgery. And has been limping around like Tiny Tim in a chic blue cast speckled with paw prints for six weeks. He has become, effectively, the most expensive rescue dog in all the land.
My name is Bo, and I am basically Bran Stark #pimpwithalimp
Bo enjoys nesting in the bushes in the front driveway, dozing in unlikely crevices (under the bed, within the nighttable, in between the couch and the arm chair), and is slated to arrive in Gainesville for his Master's in Systems Management this Fall (with his new mommy, my sister, AA,). Madeleine and Vienna are not taken with him yet, but Madeleine has been enjoying the company of Fudge the Pug and Fudge's new baby sidekick, Dotty as they romp around in the hallway of my apartment floor. Dotty gets a little mouthy, but what young man doesn't around a pretty lady?
I was asked to address the phenomenon of "skinny fat" people, which gets us people with normal metabolisms quite riled up. This refers to the folks who are effortlessly (and really, no effort is put forth for health on their part, usually) thin yet eat like King Henry VIII and move like mud. Not surprisingly, their bloodwork and body fat percentages often indicate a very dire health picture, more remniscent of someone who is overweight. I remember meeting LB (now a dear friend) for the first time, who was so incredibly thin that I even suspected she might have an eating disorder, until I watched her house an entire box of Mallomars on a couch in Cottage Grove (miss ya, cheap Gainesville housing) and polish it off with some oreos. As I watched [drooling over the Mallomars], but also stupefied, I figured she must be an intense athlete/marathon runner/gymnast? Nope. Hyperthyroidism? No. 3rd degree burns over 50% of her total body surface area causing extreme catabolism? Nah. Homegirl literally sat on a Craigslist couch all day eating Mallomars, not exercising, and presented as underweight. COOL. However, a few years later, LB had the opportunity to enter a Bod Pod, which is an absurdly expensive body composition analysis machine. Her body fat analysis report came back with the same metabolic profile as an obese person. Nevermind the ironic comedy of the situation and how I laughed on the phone for 10 minutes when she called and relayed her results to me,, but let the moral of the story reverberate this: you can be skinny and metabolically unhealthy if you eat like a trucker and don't exercise. So stop coveting thy neighbor, get your tush to Pure Barre (a new form of torturous exercise whose motto is ACTUALLY 'lift, tone, burn' while you cling to a ballet barre for dear life and pulse your legs up and down 80 times. Many thanks/dagger eyes to my co-dietitian SM for forcing me to buy a Gilt City for eight classes there and laughing at me when I pulled a muscle with the two pound freeweights) and eat your kale. (And to answer what I'm sure is another burning question you are having, yes, Madeleine is the poster girl of skinnyfat. I probably am, too.)
Don't hate us 'cause we're beautiful, hate us because we're skinnyfat.
Happily Ever After,
Mon and Mads
