"But that's enough about me. Let's talk about you. What do you think of me?"

Ahhh, external validation, the eternal bitch goddess. Oh, how we grovel at her feet, craving her slightest attention, the smaller number on the scales, the tape measure or the clothing label. When she denies us, how we weep and wail and stuff ourselves with the wrong sort of food and refuse to exercise because what's the point?

How we all aim for that holiest of holies, the holy grail of external validation, the comment of a friend.

Is it any wonder some days you feel you're going insane?

I'm as guilty as anyone of craving this stuff. Sure, I'll spout the party line. Don't weigh yourself every day, measure yourself so you can see results there if the scales aren't moving, blah, blah, blah.

But I'm an utter hypocrite.

(For the record, I don't weigh myself daily, but if the scale doesn't go down once a week, the bottom goes out of my world.)

I want the same validation everyone else does. Today, my ultimate craving was satisfied.

You see, most of the people I know see me too regularly enough to notice any big change. The loss is gradual and so their comments tend to be, "Have you lost more weight?" and the like.

Today I went to lunch with some work friends who haven't seen me since March of this year.

I've never been so happy to be called a 'skinny bitch' in all my life. Oh, it felt so GOOD!

Here's to many more jealous insults!