Good Lord Almighty, I've gotten fat. Now, rest assured, I would never use such a nasty spacial slur to refer to anyone else, but the God's honest truth is that I passed overweight, chubby, chunky, plump, hefty, tubby, portly, big-boned, rubenesque, voluptuous and even plus-sized, queen-sized and goddess-sized a long time ago. At this point, the only semi-accurate euphemism I can think of is "infinity-sized" and somehow I'd just rather suck it up and use the "F" word. So here it goes: I'm fat.

The tragic thing is that I've been on a diet for 10 years and gained 50 pounds. I've dieted with Oprah, Kirstie and Fergie. I've put my faith in Dr. Atkins, Dr. Phil, Bob Greene, Weight Watchers and a whole host of lesser diet gods and still I've managed to go from The Limited to Lane Bryant since Dubya got sworn in.