Big is Beautiful August 29, 2008

So, lately I’ve been stumbling across a lot of “fat acceptance” type blogs and I find myself torn in my opinion on them.

See All My Jiggly Bits, The Rotund, or Fabulously Fat College Student, for example.

On the one hand, as a fellow fat chick, I applaud their efforts and encourage them in their “acceptance” and attempts at happiness. However, I find myself irritated for a few reasons.

First, the fact that “acceptance” is even needed for “fat” people (or even mildly chubby people, or anyone not model-perfect) in our society really irks me because I find a lot of larger women beautiful. If I were a guy (or into women) I would totally dig the pudgy ones. Women, to me, should be soft and curvy… not built like a man. And I know there are a lot of other people (guys included, ladies!) that feel the same way.

Second, I question whether these people are really accepting their size and being happy, or just putting on a happy front for the world. I’ve seen many people claiming not to care what others think… saying things like “I like me this way,” and “I’m okay with myself” to try to delude themselves into thinking they’re happy, when in fact, they’re miserable inside.

I’ve always been a little on the larger side and while, most days, you will find me perfectly content in my size (even grateful for it) there are those days that I look at one of my cute, tiny coworkers and think “wow, I wish I could look like that.” Of course, then I always smack myself remembering that I would probably be in a padded room if I had a body like that… I wasn’t kidding when I said I was often grateful for my “jiggly bits.” (Please don’t laugh at me… but I have this weird aversion to bones and I tend to freak out when I can feel them. Particular bones like my spine, my collarbone, or my pelvic bone produce especially strong reactions that often land me the center of my family’s jokes. I don’t know what it is about them but I don’t like my bones touched… it gives me the creeps. Like nails on a chalkboard. My fat protects them though. It’s a safety blanket. I said don’t laugh!)

Okay, back on subject.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy these blogs because these women (of course, men would never do this!) are interesting, beautiful people by themselves who write very entertaining blogs that I can identify with. However, I am irritated by the fact that these women identify themselves first and foremost as fat. That is the first quality they think of when they view themselves and, as hard as they are trying to put a positive spin on it, I can’t help but think that they still view it as an inheriting negative thing.

Despite this negativity vibe I’m getting, they really should be applauded for trying to change the image of fat people. You go girls! So, check out some of these blogs because they are a good read (not because they are fat) and leave some encouragement because these women are trying to do a good thing for themselves.

Marriage Misconception August 20, 2008

I came across a wonderful post this morning that I wanted to share and discuss.

Newsflash: The Sexual Revolution is Not Complete

This woman has found a situation in which “traditional” gender roles are reversed and she and her husband share an openness about their relationship which allows them to explore other people if need be. However, she takes considerable criticism from other people, especially her family members, who don’t understand or don’t approve of her arrangement. But their arrangement, however odd to some people, works! And that’s what matters.

So here’s my rant: I don’t understand why our society is clinging so tightly to such an archaic relationship structure, that obviously doesn’t work for everyone. I also don’t understand why marriage is almost a “requirement.” I am living with a guy that I don’t “love” and have absolutely no intention of marrying; yet my friends ask constantly, what’s the point? They are so focused on finding “the one” that they’re going to marry and spend “the rest of their lives” with that they are missing out on a lot of fun and are probably passing up a lot of wonderful people. What is so wrong with enjoying someone for a few months or years or however long it lasts, without making any future plans. And what’s wrong with NOT wanting to marry? Marriage does not fit into my plans anywhere, nor do I have a desire to legally tie myself to another human being… so why am I constantly being told “you’ll change your mind,” “oh, everyone says that at some point,” or “just wait until Mr. Right comes along.” Well, here it is: I DON”T want to marry and I find the thought of having children repulsive!

And while the woman in the post did marry, she had other options. She and her husband were perfectly fine with seeing other people, and I find that great. Admittedly, I don’t know if I am, personally, secure enough to be able to do that. My guy and I actually considered that, going so far as to actually both schedule dates with other people… but then we both realized that we were incredibly jealous of that other person and neither of us went through with it. So, for now, monogamy works for us. BUT, in the future, I wouldn’t be opposed to trying new things or new people. You have to adapt to keep a relationship working. If that adaptation includes monogamy, polygamy, swinging, a person of the same and/or opposite sex, or whatever… go for it! Screw the rules and don’t listen to what other people say.

What’s the point in life if you’re not enjoying it?

Measure of a Man… or Woman August 14, 2008

Recently I discovered the best way to measure your likability in other people’s opinion, through the misfortune of a coworker.  This particular coworker has never been a favorite of mine. A superiority complex combined with an innate laziness does not make for a particularly pleasant person. However, I never saw her as being disliked by anyone else in the office. Like me, they all played nice.

That is… until the other day. It was later in the afternoon and everyone was back from their “lunch” break. Said coworker made a trip to the bathroom. Upon emerging from the bathroom she walked down the hall to her office… with her frilly skirt tucked into the top of her granny panties fully exposing her rosy cheeks (of the bottom variety)! Not wanting to draw attention to the situation, as nobody else had seen, I said nothing in the hopes that she would notice her new breezy backside once she was in her office. However, that was not the case. I watched in agony/ amusement/ morbid fascination as she proceeded to walk through the lobby and to the other side of the office, where she returned still oblivious to her pantless posterior. Apparently no one on that side of the office deigned to inform her either. Walking back through the lobby she remained oblivious as another coworker and a client stared in horror, then turned around to snicker behind her back.

Standing at the copier, numerous people walked by her and turned to do a double-take, yet no one said a word. Trying not to stare, I sent a quick IM to a friend in the office asking if she would say something. Her reply was, “I thought about it, but then I decided I didn’t like her enough to tell her.”

So, at the end of the day, nobody told her. I still don’t know when she found out… she was still walking around oblivious when I left for the day.

Thus, you can always tell the measure of a man, or woman, by how many people are willing to expose their fanny follies.

I had an abortion last night… August 11, 2008

… and this morning, and two the day before that…

Did you hear about the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services having drafted a rule that would call it abortion when a contraceptive prevents a fertilized egg from embedding itself in the uterine wall?  So every time you have sex and your birth control does its job (yay!) you’ve had an abortion. Hooray for more stupid decisions by the Federal Government.

I guess this means I’ll have to trash that new “pro-life” bumper sticker I bought huh? Darn.

This is my Blue period… August 11, 2008

Some people think there is a definitive link between depressive disorders and the ability to express deep, intense levels of creativity. Pointing to people like Van Gogh, Beethoven, Sylvia Plath, and a host of others, people have linked creative genius with manic depression, stating that it somehow fueled their creativity. Somehow depression, erratic behavior, and substance abuse are supposed to lend themselves to artistry…

Well, I’m here to tell you people, THEY DON’T. In fact, for most people (me, me, me!), depression (and its various manifestations and consequences) renders the sufferer completely void of any creative thought; or if by some miracle some shred of genius manages to wrench its way free of your depressive state… you lack the energy to do anything about it.

Well damnit!  I miss being creative and interesting. Depression does that to you. Sucks the joy out of your life so that nothing can hold your interest any longer. Things that once peppered my life with tiny bursts of pleasure now hold no meaning. I can’t seem to muster up the energy to paint again. Dragging my SLR out of the closet and schlecking my equipment downtown to capture the glorious architecture seems like so much work. Writing is just exhausting. My inspiration is gone, my creativity lost. I am an empty shell that one housed a plethora of color, capability, and creative thought. I want to slap these ideas bouncing around in my head down on canvas; I want to finish the book I started writing so many years ago; and I want to take and print some beautiful black and whites to frame for my walls! Is that so much to ask?

Note to self: kick the habit. *sigh* If I can muster up the energy.

This is not the life I ordered… August 8, 2008

You know when you’re younger and you have this fantasy about how your life will turn out one day… and its full of travel to beautiful places, a fun and interesting job, an urban and trendy life. Nowhere did my plans include financial problems, suburban hell, or living with my parents at the age of 22. This is so not the life I ordered….

I swore to myself that after high school I would get out of Oklahoma (yes! I live in this nasty little piece of Bible-belt hell!), I would go to college out of state (didn’t happen), and after college I would move somewhere cool (really didn’t happen). Where am I now? Back home, living with my parents in the same hell-hole I grew up in.
Admittedly I don’t hate my city of residence like did when I was younger. I have actually grown to appreciate Tulsa after living in a small college town for four years. I realized that there are worse places to live, with even more backwards-thinking, closed-minded people. Now, Tulsa doesn’t seem that bad. I’m actually (sort of) enjoying myself here…but the whole living-with-parents thing has GOT to end.

I agreed to move back home to help my mom out a little. Like most people these days she has fallen on some hard times and needed some help to make ends meet. So, I agreed to come home and live rent-free (the one plus!) and contribute my salary to her cause. In addition, the guy I was living with in college came with me. We struck a bargain that basically allowed us free-reign where we could live (basically) like we were, come and go as we please, and have minimal hassle.

Has that turned out to be the case? HELL NO!

I feel like I’m back in high school… a curfew (that my mom insists is just common courtesy), rules that don’t coincide with having a live-in boy (-friend? -toy? whatever he is…), and chores.

So, I’m going crazy; He’s going crazy; WE are going crazy and can’t wait to leave. But here’s the problem…my mom is really good at guilt. Its like she should’ve been Catholic or something. She lays on the guilt and I feel sooooo bad for wanting to have my own life.

To top it all off…I’m working at a job that doesn’t use my degree (doesn’t even require one!) and has no potential for advancement. I don’t even make enough money to support myself comfortably because I took the first job I could find, as my mother was freaking out that I wasn’t contributing any money after the first week back.

This is not the way I pictured life after college. This is so not the life I ordered…

Hello Doldrums August 7, 2008

Dear New Job,

I like you, really, I do. But, must you be so draining? You require me to be social and perky, two traits conspicuously not in tune with my nature. Sure, I can fake it. In fact, I’m really good at faking it. So good that you could hardly recognize the person I become while at you. Not that I mind… I understand the need for a pleasant working demeanor, but must I squash my creativity, plaster on a friendly yet fatuous facade, and render myself devoid of intelligence just to please you. And here’s the kicker… you’re an advertising agency! You’re full of creativity and new ideas. But sadly, not for me. No, my part is to ignore those clever urges, disregard my education, and silently fade into the background.