My interview outfit from last night. Ugh! You can’t really tell, but the tights are a violet purple. I’m wearing t-strap mary jane docs (with a chunky square heel). The dress is from Eshakti (I don’t see black available but it’s come back before, also, splurge and get the custom sizing for $7.50, it’s so worth it!). Clutch is Avenue from several years ago and the headband, as always, from Ross (dress for less).

I don’t know if I got the job. The whole thing was a bit strange and not in the awesome way I had hoped. I couldn’t read the interviewer well and while I think she liked me, she seemed to believe the job was  beneath me. I am sick of that! Just give me a job, people! Who cares if my talents and abilities are beyond what the job will utilize, let me suffer through it if I must! Ha-ha! But she did say I was the most elegantly dressed interview she’d had all week. My response, “Thank you! I’ll remember that!” What? I know! I say silly things that make no sense to me. When I said that to my husband he said, “Well, you will remember that.” He’s right. ha-ha! Oh well.

I’m not terribly excited about the job anymore. Turns out I had it confused with another job listing. Ugh! My brain! She fucks with me sometimes. I am quite embarrassed actually. So, the job listing I thought it was, was for a “Bad Ass” admin…the job I interviewed for yesterday? “Office manager/admin” Shit! I wrote the word “Bad Ass” all over my screening submission! I’m an ass! Oh well. It wasn’t as creative/exciting a place as I’d imagined anyway. It was kind of fun to get excited about something so unknown for a minute and I did school them on “the obesity epidemic” bullshit they’d bought into prior to my submission. To quote a White Stripes song, “Oh well oh well oh well!”

It’s Friday! I’m in a good mood despite the fucked up and weird week I’ve had and just chillin’ with my puggyman today:

Also, going to finally test out my new and bizarre espresso machine this weekend! Just gotta get a couple of supplies this afternoon and I’m set. What beans did this connoisseur of coffee ultimately buy? The Garuda Blend from Peet’s! Ha-ha! I can’t get enough of that stuff (whole bean always and forever babies!)!

Many years ago (let’s just leave it at more than ten), a friend of mine took a women’s studies class in college and was just beginning to tell me about it. And sadly, my knee-jerk reaction was something along the lines of, “Fuck that femi-nazi shit!” *HeadDesk* I’m really sorry “Q”! I see the error of my ways now.

You see, I used to believe that women weren’t to be trusted. That I couldn’t get along with them or they me. That somehow I just couldn’t “put up with their bullshit” and well, I was all kinds of wrong. I mean? Well, I’m a woman, why on earth did I feel this way? How did I get so off-course? *Sigh* It happens. I didn’t have a strong female figure in my life growing up and certainly, for awhile at least, every gal I got close to would hurt me. So I made up this strategy/philosophy and let it dictate my own fears and comforts for many many years.

As I get older and wiser (one hopes anyway), I learn more and more about how the media/marketing and all sorts of other influences can make us hate our own gender. My husband often apologizes for the crimes against women, humanity and nature on behalf of his gender. I didn’t used to feel so loyal or affiliated with my own gender. But that all changed the further I got into the fat liberation (acceptance) movement. How could I continue to distance myself from an entire gender when it was the very group who were inspiring me everyday? The short answer: I couldn’t!

The at liberation (acceptance) movement has shown me time and again new ways of thinking and being and feeling. Not in some cultist way, mind you, but in very positive, common sense and even life affirming ways. I had no idea what I was missing out on! Not having a nurturing figure in my life (well, that’s a complicated story for another time), I missed out on lots of things and am only now figuring out things like eyeliner and tights and stuff like that! More so, the deep love and compassion a woman can give to another in a way that is neither sexual nor sisterly.

And I fucking love women! Women get shit done! Women are known for talking/chatting/gossiping? Huh! More like planning, organizing, plotting! I never used to believe in or apply the label to myself, but dammit, I’m a modern feminist! I’m not afraid to tell the world. No matter how weighty that word can be (and how convoluted it’s become sadly), feminism to me is simply believing in equality…for all! Go read my “about” page and you’ll see that that is a major thing for me. And I have no patience or tolerance for hate, not from the world and not from anyone in my life! None. Life is too short and too awesome to waste on that shit. And if you’re someone who spews hate at “skinny bitches” and shit like that? Check yourself, hun, please?! It’s judgment, plain & simple! And unnecessary! We need to get beyond this.

Now? Now I have more female than male friends (big switch from my past). Now I know some of the most beautiful, smart, powerful, creative, talented, wondrous women in the world! Women who fuel my passion for fat liberation. Women who inspire me and motivate me. Women who bare their souls to me without ever meeting me. Women who have survived horrible abuses who live to see another day and share their stories so that maybe just one woman will be saved from that pain. Women who lay their own lives on the line in the name of justice. I know these women. I am these women. You are these women! And we are an amazing species that have evolved and adapted and grown over millions of years.I am so proud to be a woman because of all of you.

I see men in a different light, too. Men who have touched my heart and my life in ways I didn’t think possible. Men who will just as quickly lay their lives on the line for our cause. Men who believe in supporting us and letting us shine or stepping up and helping in any way that they can. We need them just as much as they need us. This isn’t a competition. This is nature. The nature of our species and the nature of our world. Thank the stars above we have this very moment to breathe it all in and relish in the knowledge that we can choose to help and care for each other rather than battle. And I feel for the guys who didn’t or don’t have women to teach/show them things to help them understand the world, themselves and women, too.

I recently heard someone say that you can always tell when a guy grew up without sisters or women around. It made me think about it for awhile. It’s scary! To only really see one side of the world (in a way)? It is no wonder than many guys see feminists the way I used to. And I can say that they just haven’t been exposed! They haven’t seen the truth! I highly recommend this book to anyone who is even slightly interested, “Misogyny: The World’s Oldest Prejudice” (and you can get it for a steal!). I had no idea how long and how awful women were treated and why they were treated so terribly.  It is a great read, educational for sure, but informative in ways I hadn’t imagined.

Thank you for reading. Take care of YOU!

After all of that magical fun I had all this past weekend, I’m am as down as can be at the moment. It is as though it’s suddenly hit me that the last three years were sort of an era and it has come to a close. Not just my cafe, though that is a major part, but I am losing friends to this bullshit economy…STILL!!!

Monday night my closest friends/chosen family went out to karaoke for one last hurrah for our friend Tom who is moving back to the east coast today. I even managed to get my husband to come along and be our designated driver. My intentions were pure: drink, sing, be merry! Only, it didn’t quite work out that way. Tom had come down with a cold or something and showed up unable to sing. Plus he had to get up fairly early and couldn’t stay. I think we each sang a song for him (he chose Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep” for me) and he seemed to enjoy the evening’s company at any rate. But then he had to go and he said goodbye to each of us and gave us hugs and lots of love and suddenly the air went out of me. I’m not very good at showing my emotions sometimes, so I may not have seemed so terribly sad, but I felt a great loss. What can I say? Tom was the guy no one knew, yet we did know him on some level and each in our own ways.

Okay, I know it’s not like he’s dying, but it fucking feels like it! Yet another close friend is leaving for cheaper living in the hopes of an actual future. We’re all sick and tired of struggling, no one knows this more than me. I get it! I do! But it also fucking hurts each time I have to say goodbye to someone I love. I feel like a three year old, “It’s not fair!!!”We always say we’ll keep in touch and visit and all of that, but it never happens. My dear sweet Freddy never even emails me…we used to text each other everyday! I just…Ugh! *Sobs*

It seems with the first day of Autumn there was a perceivable shift. The weather, the hopes for tomorrow, and now I feel as though there’s no longer a chance for dreams becoming realities. I know that’s bullshit, but for now it is what I am feeling. Many of my friends are going through the wringer right now and my heart goes out to them. We’re all so depressed we can’t even get angry anymore. You know it’s bad when I can’t get angry about something. But I just don’t have it in me today. Saturday night may have truly been the most fun I’d had in ages, and now I can’t believe it’s all over and gone.

How much longer can we believe that things will get better? This economy has taken almost everything from me. While I have new friends and am enjoying getting to know them and pushing myself to be more social, it takes a lot out of me. And I have moments when I wonder what it’s all for and consider hiding under the covers forever. It’s like everything has come to a head and I feel like I will be left behind if I don’t find the strength to kick that fucker down! I dunno…what am I even saying? I’m just tired of losing. I was almost at a point this weekend when I thought that everything will in fact be okay and very soon. That things were already picking up and getting better. Maybe that is true, but I can’t see it today.

I just wish there was a way I could improve things for those I love. Right now that’s a lot of people, but I have a lot of love, yo! Yet I can’t even improve things for myself. Shit! I can’t even get to a damned copy place and mail my stupid state tax bullshit for my cafe! For all of my supposed bravery, I feel like a damned coward right now. I don’t know why, but I almost feel like I could have done something to prevent Tom from having to leave us, but what? It’s pretty vain to even think that. I don’t feel like I was a very good friend to him either. Yet here I am crying to stupid face off. Ha-ha!

I seriously thought a bowl of soup and some sitcoms would do the trick. I think it may have made it all so much worse. And this pity party has to walk the dog in a minute. Sorry to bum y’all out, I’ll be fine, always am. Just need to swim in some sorrow today I think. I hope that everything is good with you and yours. If it’s not, you have my love and hugs! We can get through this! We have to! <3

This picture was from several years ago. This is my chosen family. These are the people who mean the world to me. That’s Tom standing on the right, my husband in the booth with his Mama, Jery The Actorvist on the left, “Q” and P to the left just above him…it was my birthday. This is one of my favorite pictures ever. I have it up in my apartment, too. Look how awesome and happy we were? And now I feel like we’re all being pulled in different directions. Oh well. Here’s to fond memories and hopefully happier reunions. <3

When will it stop hurting?

I’m doing the work, taking fatty back, owning the name and feeling confident in my body, in the space I take up, my largess, my rippling waves of undulating life… owning that, flaunting it, embracing the power that emanates.  So in these empowered spaces I read a book, watch a TV show, open a magazine and sometimes fat hatred comes out of nowhere,  a violence dealt with a careless blow and it leaves you with a chestful of air that won’t expel… If I have some inkling of what it’s going to be, or said or done my defense system is moderating on all channels and purging the malcontented viruses as they appear in my midst. But sometimes that system is shut down for repairs, or for regeneration, sometimes I am my naked face and its then that the insidious fat hate, the hatred of all that I am can come in again and leave me so breathless with eyes prickling, shoulders hunching and once again I can be that girl on the field, in class, on the bus, who was that object of ridicule.

The other day I was watching the new premiere of “How I Met Your Mother”,  I am not a big fan, in fact I don’t even have cable, it’s just something on and sometimes it’s funny. This happened to be the premiere and within the space of 5 minutes “Barney” laid the track down for not one but two fat bombs. The first one was, “ What if this tie gets fat and old and I don’t want this tie anymore?” meaning the woman he was about to marry.  Then within a few minutes he loudly proclaims in the bar, “except for fatties!”… The first joke I was just shocked but snorted like whatever , the second time I it was just like someone dumped water on me. Overwhelmed with new feelings of sadness, shame and  shame for all the FAT girls sitting in their own living rooms hearing these fucking stupid jokes, while their thin families, friends, boyfriends, wives, all roar in the standard appreciative laughter…” ha ha ha ha… yeah Barney, you tell EM! NO FATTIES!!” The shame of that; of having to laugh along with your company to the jokes that demean who you are, that makes you the last stop, the utter desperate resort… beyond redemption, humanity or hope. Then you might feel more shame about feeling shame at all, like it’s just a joke, right? What’s the big deal? But you and I know a little more of your beautiful darling glistening soul shrunk more into her conch shell, fell back deeper into the coral, being told that you. Are. Not. Worthy of love.  And if you are thin you better not fuck up and get fat because if you do that will be your husbands’ worst nightmare and he will leave you. The message? Fat people are not worthy of love. How could this possibly be just a harmless little joke?!?!?!

Maybe I am putting too much leverage on a stupid comedy sitcom, I mean I invited it into my house, but that’s a microcosm of the whole thing. We, as fatties try to surround ourselves with messages that are not the dominant paradigm (if we have survived enough to get to the point where we find them…. So many others are still stuck in the old culture, killing themselves on an impossible dream), we surround ourselves with blogs and friends and websites which tell us a very different story. But sometimes, one sneaks in like this show for a shitty uppercut.  When will I no longer be affected by things like this? It’s like having a glass jaw, a constant inherent weakness in the OK of me… but then again, if it got to the point where I no longer cared… is that really the goal? To be totally inured to the taunts and jingles of others? Shouldn’t I be doing something more? To stay fragile and awake and alive and to fight the very things that are inherent prejudice in our world?

So I guess I am working on that, to remain effective but without the anxiety. To be clear without the internalization and to stand up when we see these things and consistently denounce them.

My husband and I recently watched the documentary, “Pregnant In America” on our Netflix instant watch (gotta love it). I had wanted to see it for awhile. Having previously watched “The Business of Being Born” another birthing in the US related doc by Rikki Lake and, “At Your Cervix” where the truth behind pelvic exams was revealed. All great documentaries! I highly recommend them all if you are even remotely interested in having a child in the United States of America. Because a lot of what we’ve been told, taught or marketed to in regards to women’s bodies and reproductive health, is, well…BULLSHIT!!!

I was born in a hospital. No complications, just a typical 1977 birth. My younger brother and sister, however, were born at home with a midwife. They, too, had no complications in their births (or should I say our mom didn’t). Yet somewhere along the line I grew a nice big prejudice against home births. I am not entirely sure why, other than I typically will rebel against anything my mother is for (I have not seen her in over 15 years). But getting my info on and watching these incredible documentaries has completely changed my mind!

I had grown fearful, over the last couple of years, of having a kid because of a lot of things. Mostly passing on genetic stuff, but also because there’s a damned good chance that I’ll have a fat child (who may also end up with my hair color, not bad, but kids are merciless towards redheads). Would the government take my child away because it’s fat? I couldn’t bear the thought of living through that. Or would I even get a say in the birth of my child while also being seen as too fat for anything in the eyes of the medical world? I read the blog WellRoundedMama and have found some great articles/info/resources there, but that fear still lingers.

When I read this post on AmpleProportions I was quickly reminded of my fears and the real threat to our rights as women in America, let alone the rights of the fat! Watching “Pregnant in America” sort of snapped me back to my germaphobic self in a way: hospitals are for the very ill, not for the newly born! I mean, babies don’t belong there! They don’t have fully formed immune systems and who knows who is touching your baby and if they’re washing their hands appropriately?! My husband has long said that he doesn’t want to have our baby in a hospital because they snatch it away from you the moment it’s released from the birth canal and instantly inject, weigh, test, “clean”, etc… when the natural thing is to clutch the infant to the mother’s breast, leaving the placenta in-tact for awhile, so that the natural hormones kick in and do what they need to do: Bond, initiate natural breast feeding and so much more.

Is it possible that the rise in postpartum depression has something to do, directly, with the westernized pathology of handling birth? To inject drugs (epidural) into the spine of the mother (can lead to so many problems I don’t even wanna talk about right now) so that she cannot feel the baby moving and may even be temporarily paralyzed until after the baby is born? You see, we’re natural baby makers, women. We and our bodies know exactly what to do, if we are unaltered and uninhibited. We will find the right position for us while giving birth, naturally! While OB/GYN’s have been trained to find pathology and complications where none exist all in the name of efficiency and profit! Laying on your back, legs splayed in the air, is not only not natural, but damned uncomfortable while pushing out a baby! I have completely changed my mind and I have no intention of going anywhere near a sick house (hospital) unless it’s an absolute emergency. They don’t want me anyway, I’m fat and have no insurance. Fuck ‘em!

I’m not pregnant and don’t have immediate plans to get there, but if and/or when  I am ready, I thank the stars above that these films and the experts and resources available today are there to inform and help me along the way. I cannot stand the thought of not being in control of my own body or infant. To interfere with a natural thing? Well, that’s bullshit! I won’t stand for it and I most certainly will not pay for it!