>There's a Mars bar waiting for me on my kitchen counter. It's been waiting patiently for me since I brought it back with me from London on March 23. I decided that I would eat it when I know whether or not I will be attending an MFA program in the fall. The Mars bar is getting lonely.

I'd like to know what is going on for the fall, and to eat this delicious, chocolatey, caramel treat. (British Mars bars kick the asses of the American version. They are more like a super extra smooth and tasty 3 Musketeers, which is my favorite American mass market candy bra. Mars bars are even better than 3 Musketeers.) However, somehow between my eating trip to London, my non-stop snacking thanks to anxiety, and my lax attendance at the gym (coupled with lazy workouts when I did manage to roll myself there), I am not fitting into my clothes very well. As in, pants are mad tight, and shirts clearly highlight my pot belly.

This all brings me to The Biggest Loser, which is an oddly compelling reality show about extremely overweight people trying to lose weight. Last week, the first time I tuned in this entire season (although there were only 3 left - better late than never!), people were sobbing their eyes out when they had to vote someone out for merely gaining a pound. (He lost over 100!) It was touching and weirdly inspiring. Not as inspiring as when Alex came to visit me recently, got me to run outside for the first time in forever, and then invited me to take part in a team triathlon with her (I'll run, she'll swim, and her friend will bike - playing on all our strengths), but uplifting enough for me to write a run-on sentence.

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