Went to the doctor, lost another pound and a half. Yipee. At this rate I will be slim by menopause.

And that's all she wrote.

You Got the "Bitch" Part Right

Yesterday I took "Skinny Bitch" out of the library. This was just out of curiosity, mind you. I am not about to give up coffee and become vegan just because some former models berate me. But it gets such intense reviews, good and bad, that I wanted to see what I thought about it.

After a few pages, I'm sending it back unread. I don't need these women on their high horses calling me a fat pig. It's not even like they used to be fat and aren't anymore, which would soften it a little. The book is just pure abuse towards fat people and I don't know why anyone buys it. These women shouldn't be hailed as 'straight-talking' and 'tough-love' heroes for women. Give me a break.

In other news, it's Friday! Yay!

A friend and I are attending some seminars for women over the weekend, which should be fun, and of course there is Superbowl Sunday with the boys. I don't mind watching the game but none of us care about the teams so I might duck out for a couple hours to go to the abandoned, totally empty library down the street ;)

I'm having a good Monday morning, although something bummed me out a little. I was looking at the Thanksgiving photos that Sister put up on one of her social networking site profiles, and I saw that beneath the one of myself, my sisters, my aunt and my mother, my aunt - who is a feminist that I greatly admire - commented with a laugh that Sister looks thinner and prettier than the rest of us.

This is a silly superficial thing that shouldn't bother me, but it does. Why does thin = pretty? Or if it does not, I suppose that Sister is just fortunate enough to have it all.

Eh, whatever.

The Right Fit

I'm in a good mood. Good things just keep happening.

- I hate clothes shopping. Maybe there are some big women out there who enjoy it, but I am not one of them. It is a painful procedure that must be completed and over and done with as quickly as possible (just ask Boyfriend). Well, yesterday we were at the mall getting it over and done with as quickly as possible when I noticed that Lane Bryant has a new jean system. It's probably just a gimmick that won't really last but the fact that their sizes ran from 1-5 prompted me to ask the saleswoman about it. (I needed new jeans, desperately.) She said that I would need to be measured because the new "Right Fit" sizes don't correspond to regular sizes. Okay, I'm a good sport, I let her wrap the measuring tape around me. "Do you have any problems with jeans?" she asked. "Why, yes, the ones that fit around my waist are baggy in the butt and thigh areas." "Okay," she replied. "I'm going to put you in a 4 yellow. What kind of jeans do you like?" "Flare please," I said, then took them from her and made for the dressing room. I don't know what I expected but I did not expect to come bounding out of there like a goddess in dark denim. Yes, friends, it hugged all the right places without being tight or uncomfortable. I was in love. I must have said "Thank you" to this woman four times.

- I just went to Michael's for the first time. It was like this great nostalgic moment. All the memories of trips to the crafts store with my mother throughout my childhood rushed back to me as I smelled the cinnamon and looked through aisle after aisle of paints, fabrics, yarns, hoops, fake flowers and hot glue guns. I just felt happy in a goofy way. I bought some accessories for my costume and also a pack of colored pencils, just because I like to spoil myself. (I don't paint anymore; I draw. I realized I kept drawing decent pictures and then destroying them when I painted over them.)

- Friend From Work #1 gave me a big, warm, gooey chocolate chip cookie about five minutes ago.

Big Fat Carnival

Would love to send a thank-you to Sheana, who included one of my posts in her "Big Fat Carnival."

Conversations from the Scale

"I'm telling you ... low-carb," Mother tells me. "No more than 20 grams a day. That's the only way to change your metabolism."
"Geez Mom, stop picking on me."
"I'm not!"
"That's the fourth time you've mentioned it."
"It's just that I know you're unhappy."
"I never said I was unhappy. How do you know I am?"
"I know you. I know you're not happy like that."
"Look, I told you, the doctor said it was the combination of medications. It's not my fault."
"I know. Do you really need them?"

--

"Um, your nurse just weighed me and it seems I've somehow gained twenty pounds since I saw you last month?"
"Hmm. That is curious."
"How can that even be possible? I think I would have noticed. Is that even physically possible?"
"Well, maybe it's the medication that did that."
"Really?"
"Or maybe you just had a bad month." He smiles.

A bad month? I think to myself.

The dev guy who called me "not cute" is being nice to me now. He talks to me and makes jokes when he ignored me before. I attribute this to either:

a) he was not talking about me
b) the IT guy told him that I heard what he said and he feels sorry
c) he is as ignorant as most men are

I remember when Fellow Seeker told me that his coworker called me the "not cute" one. (That seems to be my title of choice!) He had met myself and our other friend, a beautiful slim Latina girl, and when F.S. brought me up in conversation, his coworker was like, "Oh, the not-cute one?" F.S. was righteously indignant and bellowed that I am very pretty. Then he promptly told me and we had a little fun with the guy the next time we saw him. "Hey, you remember my friend Sojourness?" F.S. asked. I smiled at him. "Yes, the not cute one?"

The look on his face was priceless.

Speaking of cuteness and the lack thereof - lol - I got glamour photos taken for our anniversary. I got to have my hair and makeup done and be maneuvered into all kinds of silly poses like a real model. I think my favorite was the Spiderman pose - up against a "brick wall" with my hands flushed against it. Ha haaaa. The photos came out nicely though.

Just when I think I have seen it all in fat woman abuse...

"Men's preference will never change."

My first instinct when I saw that picture, before reading any of the post, was, Wow, what a beautiful woman.

I refrain from commenting because this is inexcusable. Then men want to know why their girlfriends are all, "Do you think I'm fat? Do you think I'm pretty? Are you sure??"

*Cross-posted at the Feminist Pulse. They've taken me back, woot!

15 If any of your women are guilty of lewdness, take the evidence of four (reliable) witnesses from amongst you against them; and if they testify, confine them to houses until death do claim them, or Allah ordain for them some (other) way.

16 If two men among you are guilty of lewdness, punish them both. If they repent and amend, leave them alone; for Allah is Oft-returning, Most Merciful.

Why is God only forgiving of men?

--

I have my very first meditation class tonight. Countless times I've signed up and then not gone, but this time will be different. I am very anxious to try it. Maybe it will bring me some peace and help me de-stress. Wouldn't that be great?

I started a low-carb diet yesterday and so far it is going well. No, it's not easy, but I'm not being as strict as actual Atkins. For example, I eat fruit, which is a definite no-no on that diet, and I have had a few veggie chips and so forth. But I can still feel it working, even though I've just begun. You know that feeling you get at night when you are on Weight Watchers or Atkins or whatever, the feeling that you are burning fuel because you are having less calories and crap than your poor body is used to? I've gotten that feeling each night, and it has always been a good sign in the past.

"You're getting fat."

The honesty of children. It's beautiful, really. I remember a babysitting job I had in high school. The seven-year-old boy, who was a monster, took great pleasure in informing me one night that I was fat. And you can't get angry, because supposedly kids haven't yet grasped that whole 'the truth hurts' thing. It cut like a knife that night, because I was younger and infinitely more sensitive, if that can be imagined.

So last night at dinner, Kid Sister #2, who adores me, who worships the ground I walk on, who grabbed my leg and told me not to go back to my job and whenever I mentioned "this is from Texas, where I live" she said, "You do not live in Texas! You live here!" ... she grinned and said to me, "You're getting fat."

And I know it wasn't malicious. She was just making a comment. To be honest, it didn't really bother me at all. I was like, "Yeah, I know," and we kept eating. I still had dessert - fuck that, you only live once.

I know I gained weight in the past six months, and I'm working on it. Today Kid Sister's words resurfaced in my mind as I made better food choices, did some exercise and downed water by the glassful. So perhaps honesty is a good thing, huh?

Eh, whatever.