Can I drop 2 sizes in a week while eating raisins?

Uh oh. It's suddenly occured to me I'll be on a beach in a week. True, I booked the trip to Florida 2 months ago, and yes, that would have been a better time to start worrying about my bikini body than now. Obviously. But when it comes to my weight, rational thought is out the proverbial window.

Now that's not to say that I've been slacking. I've been going to the gym with acceptable regularity. And I've been closely monitoring every morsel of food that goes into my body.

Unfortunately, my careful monitoring has revealed a few too many morsels going in. Sometimes quite a few. Don't get me wrong. They're carefully chosen morsels. But there are too many. Things like raisins are fine in theory, not so fine in practice, when your practice is to return to the tin for another handful 6 or 7 times over the course of an episode of Grey's Anatomy.

And so, here I am a week away from wearing my new bikini. That's it right there. Cute, huh? That is not, alas, me in it. And so I have decided I have several options:

1. The Cabbage Soup Diet. I have to admit, I have actual done this. Of course, I've done just about everything you can think of in the name of losing that last 10 pounds, so why not live on cabbage soup for a week? No, it's not a long-term strategy, nor is it pleasant for those around you for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the inevitable crankiness associated with eating vegetable soup for breakfast, but it did get me into a bikini before a trip to Mexico a few years ago. But I would have had to have made the soup already to start tomorrow, so I think that's out.

2. I could eat nothing but celery for a week. That seems reasonable. Except I'll blow it at breakfast tomorrow.

3. Or, I could spend the week actually adhering to the clean eating philosophy I claim to follow but rarely do without cheating, step up my cardio to 45 minutes, every day this week, and lock the raisins in a hard-to-reach cupboard.

Damn I hate when logic wins out. It's going to be a long week.

The Skinny on Rib Removal and Other Insanity

I'm a reasonably intelligent person. I have a responsible (albeit boring) job. I am someone's mother. Two someones, actually. I am a homeower. I read the newspaper every morning.

But when it comes to all things food/diet/fitness/health/weight related, I am quite possibly the most insane person on the planet. I lose all sense of reality. I forget that I have a closet full of size 4s and 6s and convince myself that my world will change if only I lose those last 8 pounds. Again. I am 100% incapable of enjoying a dessert without fretting audibly about the direct consequences to my thighs. I tear apart sandwhiches to remove the buttery parts, even at business lunches. I run out of a stores in tears, near-suicidal if I try something on and it is too tight. The only thing stopping me from joining Overeaters Anonymous is the fact that I'm afraid they'll laugh my size 4/6 butt right out of there.

And yes, my friend Di and I have had extensive discussions about whether or not removing ribs in pursuit of that elusive small waist is a viable option. OK, maybe not in 100% seriousness, but the topic comes up with alarming frequency for a couple of intelligent professional women. Usually one of us brings it up after a particularly horrifying encounter with a store mirror or a cruelly mis-labeled pair of jeans. Which is just as terrifying as surgery, really.