Blog Posts by Glamour Magazine

When I was a kid, I watched a lot of TV and absorbed the commercials like a sponge. I remember that whenever a fast food commercial would come on, I would feel almost a physical ache of want as the camera showed glistening burgers and melty rivers of cheese. It was food porn, and I could not look away. Sometimes after the advent of remote controls, I would mute the commercials, but even the silent images held me in their thrall. It was a burger. A burger that I did not have. No matter that I knew darn well that the real stuff never really looked as good as the commercials, the damage was done. I did deserve a break today. I needed it my way. The answer to the question "Where's the beef?" was "Not in my hand, thank you for pointing that out."

Is there really such a thing as healthy fast food?

And even now in my thirties, I am constantly fighting with my fast food urges. When I travel, I have to check out the exotic local drive-thrus, just because it's my only opportunity to get

I've been holding out on you, Cookie-readers. I neglected to inform you of some pretty big news around these parts. We've decided to add a brand new member to the Crabfamily. Even though we don't necessarily have the space, nor the spare cash a new addition to the household requires, we decided to take the plunge anyway. And so I'm proud to announce to you all that Crabmommy is...

...the owner of a crock pot!

Yes, I do love my crock pot in an almost fiercely maternal way. And yes, there is something pathetic about getting super-excited over a crock pot. Believe me, dear readers, I never thought it would come to this. I never thought I'd ever see the day when I'd be getting jiggy over an appliance. Had I looked into a crystal ball and seen myself engaging in crock pot talk in my thirties, I am quite sure I would have drowned myself in a vat of lychee martinis rather than continued my search for true love and a baby daddy.

But life changes, and here I am, digging my crock

Thanksgiving is all about the epic feasting and the horn of plenty imagery, the groaning sideboard, the napkins tucked under our chins and leftovers for months afterward. It also means a grocery bill that makes you choke on your tongue, and fiscal responsibility that goes right up my nose! I mean, out the window. There are places to cut corners, and among them is the eschewing of the super-fancy free-range heritage gourmet turkey that everyone has been going on about. I guess. I mean, I've never heard of heritage turkeys, but apparently they're tasty. And expensive. But epicurious says that your ordinary, supermarket-style turkey can be as good, for just pennies on the dollar. If that means that the turkey on the table will actually be something tasty and delicious instead of sad-making to be covered up with mashed potatoes, then I am all for it! It might even mean that turkey (and its magical leftover possibilities) might be something you want to add to the menu all year round.

With

Yesterday, I was on the phone with the amazing makeup artist Troy Surratt and he shared an eyelash trick that's just way too liability-laden for me to ever recommend in a magazine article. However, it's also fairly brilliant in its creativity, so I couldn't resist sharing it with you.

Faint of heart? Try these three eyelash tricks instead!

When Troy was a teenager, he decided he looked prettier with darker lashes, but mascara looked too obvious on a guy. So he used a black Sharpie to tint the tips (which tend to be lightest from spending the most time in the sun). He still uses the trick today before television appearances, when he wants his eyes to pop more on camera, and swears he's never woken up with red, puffy eyes the day after doing so. Still, neither of us is recommending you try this at home. Don't do it! I won't be held responsible for your vision. I'm just curious if any of you have already tried this trick or a similar one, especially during your fearless teenage

You know those basically well-meaning but ultimately insulting type comments? Kim certainly does. Related: Don't let others get you down, boost your ego with egocises!

More from Elastic Waist and SELF:

• Can your weight affect your paycheck?
• Lose weight without dieting
  Nine ways to drop a dress size and not stress over a single bite
• Easy recipes that don't rely upon prepackaged foods
• Subscribe to Self for less than $1 an issue. Get a FREE Healthy Recipe Book download!

Every time I've ever tried to quit smoking, I have simply ground out the very last cigarette in my very last pack and then I was quit, and I didn't smoke again. Until I started smoking again. Sometimes a day later, or a week later or a month later, and a couple of times I managed more than a few months, a handful of them, a year or so. I have quit smoking for as many as four years, before taking it back up with enthusiasm and gusto. I have a lot of gusto, when it comes to smoking. And I always go back to it.

Take care of yourself! Why you should cut stress and quit cigarettes-starting today!

I would rather do this on my own. Just set the pack down and walk away. Except, when I do, I always walk away telling myself that maybe I can smoke again later, if I am good, on special occasions, and when the sky is blue. And I always keep my promises. So clearly, quitting on my own and quitting without help is not something that sticks for me. I need a program! A cessation program! Maybe one

Frequent Elastic Waist commenter Ladyloo asked me where I'm getting my tights these days. Truth is, I'm a dirty tight pack rat. I don't even know where most of my tights came from, because I buy them whenever I find them and then stash them in a special drawer in my dresser, where they wait, like nuclear armaments, for use at some point in the distant future. For instance, at a party in L.A. this weekend, I chose a very light black dress with with some crocheted tights that are basically winter fishnets. Paired with a pair of Spanx and also the Iron Maiden, it made trips to the bathroom a special layer of heck, but I was pleased with it. However, I found that wearing them all night annoyed me because they weren't quite long enough to deal with the combination of my big ass and my height (I'm 5'9"). I had so run out of patience with them that when I stumbled into bed at 1:00 a.m., I dumped them in the garbage. Now, I'm feeling major regret. I should have whacked the hose off of the

I often wonder how much I'm discriminated against at my day job. I am a great interviewee and have a reasonable amount of responsibility, but I also watched as a very slender peer was groomed for management and became my boss and then rose a tier above that. I strongly suspect that I'm not making as much money as my coworkers. I'm not playing victim: I'm not very aggressive when it comes to going for new positions, and I tend to freeze when it comes to salary negotiations, strongly undervaluing my contribution. Stephanie from Back in Skinny Jeans describes it well:
"You are constantly judged on your image and your "brand". WTF! No one in college ever taught me that I would have to create a "personal brand," and that my brand could hurt me or catapult me up the ladder. And for women, a major part of your personal brand at work is your looks. Yeah, yeah, talent does matter but it has been proven that better looking people get bigger pay checks, faster traction up the ladder, better