Fat Musings.

Even though my feed doesn't appear to work with the Fatosphere feed anymore I still read it regularly and have been having some you guessed it musings.

First on the whole no diet talk issue. Granted everybodys blog is their own sandbox and you can make whatever rules you want. But this persistent idea that one must keep diet talk, weight loss talk etc out of fat acceptance entirely still chafes me.

As I understand it, the assumption is that you cannot love you body and still want to change it. I don't subscribe to that particular view point. I was going to link some things but I don't feel like it. Anyway, my thought is that I do believe that you can love and accept yourself entirely and want to change a few things.

The main problem I have with this dogmatic do not speak of this mentality is that it ignores a lot of what the people who are coming to FA, and what people who might be interested, and let's be honest a good segment of the population of FA. I know this is not a popular or "radical" (I'll get to that in a bit) idea however I do think it's not helping the cause.

Let's say you are very fat and you've come to a place where you dig your body, you feel good about yourself, you have shed the the majority of the bullshit heaped on you by peers and probably family. You are doing pretty fucking good. Maybe you're getting a little older, maybe your diet changes whatever you gain some weight. Let's say 20 pounds.

Okay you got your character? Good.

So now imagine you are this fat self loving person who has chronic osteoarthritis or you have a bad back, maybe an ankle you broke when you were 12 that hasn't been right since. Let's also pretend that you aren't quite brand new to FA circles but you're not really all in there. You don't really have anyone to talk to about this aside from maybe your doctor whom you're not ready to discuss this with yet.

You think maybe you can talk to your new FA homies about the fact that this last 20 pounds has just got you hurting.

So you start reading around the Fatosphere and all the big name (and let's not pretend there's not a hierarchy here people) and they all tell you, you can't talk about it there, or with them.

How do you feel?

Maybe it doesn't sour you on FA but maybe it makes you more hesitant to participate because all the prevailing dogma says you cannot want to lose weight at any time for any reason and no it's not to be discussed.

I don't know about the fat people you know, but a lot of the fat people I know are coming from lives where they have been thrown to the wolves as it were, and I would venture to guess that some of these souls are squirming in their seats because they want to comment and say, no wait but I would be too many are afraid.

What's there to be afraid of you ask?

You could get flamed, you could get ostracized, you could get that ever so wonderful "Let me educate you and cleanse you of your wicked ways" type condescension.

I don't think this is helpful. I think cutting off discussion because it doesn't suit your particular political flavor is just, not helpful.

Next thing I worry about is the constant rehashing without any sort of consensus or even understanding of a few issues. Namely, who's fat? What's "good" for fatties to do or not do. Sometimes it feels like FA gets bogged down in questions that really come down to things that a political movement cannot change.

Things like autonomy and the bogeyman of choice. FA like so many other body oriented movements I have been familiar with shit starts to happen. Someone decides that what someone else said was bad, there's butthurt, there's the person who may publicly or privately say something that doesn't toe the party line and all hell breaks loose.

It's not exclusive to FA nor is it a new thing but it is something I think about.

Moving onto that interview I linked the other day with author/blogger PastaQueen became such a fucking trainwreck.

I don't even want to link it because way too many people took off their sanity hats and put on their frothing at the mouth and being dicks hats.

Next topic: Being Inclusive.

The free dictionary says that inclusive means literally-

Adjective
1. including everything: capital inclusive of profit
2. including the limits specified: Monday to Friday inclusive
3. comprehensive

Any movement including FA tends to sometimes run around in circles trying to figure out the whole inclusive thing. Who gets to play? Who gets shown the door?

Often my issue with any movement is that unless you look like someone who should be there often you're shunted into the dubious position of advocate. In and of itself that's not bad but, I think it'd behoove any movement to say oh HAY you agree with us? Come kick it.

Not, well you're not (insert adjective here) but you can say you support us kthnks bai.

Call me a dirty hippy but I think the road to salvation is paved with inclusive cobblestones rather than cobblestones for us and gravel for you.

I believe this because no matter what your movement is, you have to share the world with a shitload of people who are way different than you. They are white, they are thin, they are from other countries they are from entirely different worlds than yours. No matter how "safe" your individual space might be, they are still out there and at some point unless you have some super secret to life, you are going to have to interact with them.

So instead of coming at the world like you're my enemy and fuck you, why not say hey check this out. This is what I am into right now, and I know this isn't your world but (insert interesting social discourse then hippy laden hugging here).

To quote Mo Pie's entry on BFD "10 Ways to be a Body Positive Advocate"

Understand that a lot of people are hateful morons, and they don’t reflect on you, and they shouldn’t affect you.

You should go read that whole entry.

But that bit is especially relevant here. And I will add that maybe the person who is the moron, on sight you might think YEAH we have this in common so this will rock. That is not so. Support and understanding can come from unexpected corners and frankly I think it's dumb to not see it or look for it because you haven't yet worked out your own prejudices.

At some point any movement needs to recognize that dividing on the basis of things that are in the big picture not that big a deal.

We're all going to have to pull up our big girl panties and put our hard hats on because the world is a crazy rough place and we can use all the armor we can get.

And if none of this made any fucking sense it's because I'm really tired and have a toothache.

Homo Out.

Tags: annoyed fat girl, fat, body, politics

Stumble It!

And more ruminations.

Since I've joined DA I've been doing a lot of looking around at art.

One thing that I find annoying is a certain angle in almost all the less arty more porny nudes.

It is the ass shot. Not just the ass shot because frankly I like naked ass but, it's the getting the model so her buttcheeks look like flattened sideways parenthesis, and there is a space that looks often big enough to jam your hand through between buttcheeks, crotch and upper thighs.

I know that there are many MANY nudie models who are just that thin however, I think this angle is just so weird I don't care to look at it. I dig looking at naked ass, I dig looking at naked lady parts but something about that angle squicks me out in a weird way I can't quite pin down.

I have a particular interest in edgy fetish photography and always have. And while cruising the fetish tag I keep seeing this angle. And I know how the angle is achieved, stand up with your feet positioned so (if possible, not real possible for me since I has big hams) your thighs barely touch, tilt your pelvis backwards, butt upwards and lean your torso forward. You may or may not have to hold your buttcheeks in a certain position. There you have it.

There is something profoundly disappointing for me in the area of fetish art. I think I've talked about it before but, it seems to me that fetish art is missing the vital and exciting part of more of the people who are actually into it. Despite what fetish oriented media might have you believe not all of those into the S&M and other fetishes are tall thin white women.

Frankly the constancy of these couple of looks is boring to me. Quite frankly I'd give a picture of my left tit for some pubes, some imperfections etc. As I was just saying to Uniballer-

Probably 90% of the "fetish" art I have seen in the last few years the physical standards except tats and whatnot, are pretty much exactly the same as regular porn.

It strikes me that something that is not supposed to be (at least ideologically) plugged into the mainstream still is mainlining the mainstream standards of beauty. Add some piercings, crazy hair or some shiny clothes and bam.

If I knew more about photography I would probably do some things to rectify the situation at least to make myself happy. Truth be told I think that if you want to see something make it, or play a part in making it. However it's difficult when you lack the actual talent to produce what you want to see.

My current problem is that I have shitloads of ideas but not quite the know how to execute them. Which is frustrating.

I still would love to make a little boot/big thigh fetish website. Why? Clearly because I have a boot fetish.

Also I like dressing up.

And did I mention how much I love boots?

And having boots as a possible business expense would probably make my decade.

I am still working on several things.

However the poetry book has been crossed off of the list of hustles because I"m going to offer the fucker for free.

And that's all for right now.

That fat news thing I'll talk about tomorrow after I go home tonight and read the Enquirer all about the "worse celebrity diets". I'm sure the prose will be riveting.

Homo Out.

And it might be fun.

Stumble It!

Call me the VooDoo Woman.

In case you don't get it the title there is a reference to my favorite Koko Taylor (and personal anthem) song of ALL TIME. Naturally I can't find a good video or other place to play it for you folks. Actually wait at Amazon you can get a preview and I seriously SERIOUSLY suggest picking up the album Deluxe Edition.

Also before I digress too much further let me tell you, Koko Taylor is a Bad. MotherFucker.

See here:



I repeat. Bad. Mother.Fucker.

SO okay.

Back to what I was thinking when I started.

First of all I want to share that I've joined the ranks of those on Deviant Art. Find me here. I joined quite awhile ago so I could look at nudies but have since put up a few of my quasi artistic things there and found friends and some totally awesome stuff. Warning if you peruse my favorites and you are looked in you will see girl ass.

As I said in my quick scribble journal there I am determined to reconnect with the things I find sacred. In my body and my life. That means I am going to start dancing again, and making my fugly little collages and things because I think they are beautiful and they make me happy.

On the Fatosphere I ran across two fairly divergent ideas along the same theme of judgment of womens looks.

On one hand you have this view, where the thin model is castigated for her thinness and Old Navy is put in the OMG why did they do that camp.

And then on the other hand you have TR who says she is sick of women being judged solely on their appearance.

This sort of thing is something I think about and talk about with people I know a lot. I think that it is human to want to reject what we don't want. However, I don't think it behooves anyone to go into viewing another human being and decided that their body is unacceptable and that it's unacceptable for them to show their body, or be shown. I don't like that.

Looking at this conversation over at Racialicious puts a bug in my ear. On one hand yes, I don't like the way TMZ (just go click) captioned the photo of Serena Williams.

However I also don't like what the OP had to say.

Now, I am not a regular TMZ reader, but I know they tend to rip into celebrities for any misstep or fashion faux pas. And this photo of Serena definitely qualifies as a “Oh girl, handle that!” moment.

(Psst…Serena, a sarong would really help. As would beach shorts. You have to work with your ass, not against it.)

It makes me want to know why is it okay for you (the you in this case being Latoya who posted the article) to comment on what is and isn't appropriate about Serena's body and how she is presenting herself, but it's bad for other people to comment because their comments are couched in racist terms? Granted a lot of the comments at TMZ are in fact fucking awful and ugly.

However, I also find it awful and ugly that Serena gets another hit from someone who at first glance looks to be on the defensive about the photo.

Does that make sense?

In a nutshell I suppose what I'm getting at is that no, none of it is ok. It's not okay to make racist comments about another persons ass, it's not ok to pass judgment on another persons ass because they don't have it covered/revealed how you would. It's not ok in my view to create a conversation that begins with a DOWN WITH TEH SKINNIES kind of vibe.

Not. Ok.

I am pushing my own agenda here (but it's my fucking sandbox so I can) but I don't believe that beauty has to be all or nothing one way or the other. I personally find beauty in a hugely diverse spectrum of human beings. Even when said human beings are being fucking douchebags, the diversity of the species is pretty fucking cool.

Also found via TR is the Library of Congress Photo stream at Flickr it is pretty fucking cool. I skipped reading the comments on the photos of actual humans because, as I said, some human beings are douchebags and I'm not in the mood today. Read the afore-linked entry over at The Rotund for more of that conversation.

Back to beauty.

I probably have mentioned before at some point that I am a total Asharah fangirl and want to dance like her when I grow up. I have been reading her blog BellyDance Paladin and I loved this entry on rhythm.

Someone gave me a copy of her instructional DVD but I've yet to be able to do it. :( This year, end of summer man.



I have watched it and I really enjoy how she speaks about dance. I also really dig Amira who's Bellydance 101 I have and will resume in the next couple of weeks after I get a new boob holder. I have a big issue with how someone presents something and both have a very warm and not snotty way of presenting and that makes me squee.

I have been a lover of bellydance since I was about 7-9 and my favorite babysitter Donna was a belly dancer. She would sometimes let me help her get ready, or show me how to shimmy etc. It wasn't until a few years ago that I discovered oh HAI other people dig it too and HOLY CRAP I can LEARN! It's all very connected to how I feel about my body.

I feel like connecting with my body while doing something that makes me feel damn good and shiny, is a sacred thing. Shut up if you call me a hippy I will hose you with patchouli, but seriously I do feel this way. The happiest I've been in this flesh vehicle has been when I've been doing things that I really really love.

And dancing happens to top the list.

Where I stumble is the fact that I have a bad back and shitty joints and I get frustrated because the soul is wiling but the flesh says, "Slow your roll". And the two argue and I am cranky.

I am getting better though.

I do still love to dance and this is why I advocate some booty shaking for the self love.

There is something incredibly (and I hate HATE to use such fluffy language here) freeing and yes empowering about shaking it whenever you goddamn well feel like it.

To quote Missy Elliot and I say this to you solemnly my lovely readers,

"Shake that, shake that, jiggle that fat."

I will do as Missy so eloquently decrees whenever, where ever I feel the need.

I do a little dance in the grocery store when a good song comes on the Muzak. I do a little dance while sending faxes at work. I do a little dance when I'm making what smells to be an excellent cup of coffee.

I will do a victory booty dance whenever I feel victorious.

Sometimes I will full on geek out at home and go crazy. Self ass slapping, boob shaking, karate kicking, John Travolta worthy discoing, booty shaking, dutty whining (though I really am not good at that and don't like risking neck injury) until I am sweaty, out of breath, have probably managed to shake off a piece of clothing or get my panties if I'm wearing them stuck way up in the unknown and then I giggle and smile and sit down.

Now, no matter what shape your body may be in. You might be in a wheelchair, you might be on crutches, you might have a bad back shitty knees and vertigo. It's all good. You might have a bony skinny flat ass, you might have no boobs, you might have bingo wings and matter of fact you may even have yourself some jelly rolls.

It's. All. Good.

As the first Drag Queen who ever let me wear her tiara said, "work what you got."

Okay I'm spent. I'm going to nibble on a chocolate rice cake make some tea and examine my poor cold wet feets.

Homo Out.

Tags: self esteem, fat, body

Stumble It!

Oh pretty pretty.

Okay I am tired of being uber serious so I'm talking beauty, shoes and fancy pants.

First of all let's discuss some beauty shall we? I'm still learning how to take photos of my make up. It is way harder than you'd think. I don't know why.

Also I don't know if I've talked about this here but I'm stretching my ears to a bigger gauge. Oh and I warn you now there is some photo action happening today. For those who don't know much about body mod I will show you. I stole the picture below from wiki, I am right now wearing 14 gauge talons in my ears.



Hopefully by the end of the year because I am going super slow because I am DIY'ing it, I will be at 8 and there my ears shall stay.

I have small earlobes, small ears and a not super long neck which all factored into my decision to stop at 8 rather than say 0. Now my final jewelry selection is really up in the air. Until I get to 8 I will probably continue with plain stainless talons. I am thinking I want something like this. I think glass spirals like that are very elegant.

I think after my ear stretch (or maybe during) the only other piercing I'm going to get is my nose. I've had others aside from the labret I have and I'm not into them so much.

I am far more into tattoos and I have my eye on some Clive Barker drawings as inspiration. My next tattoo is either going to be a Barker based memorial piece or maybe get my Egyptian symbolism based back piece I've been having wet dreams about since I was probably about 9 when I first discovered really great tattoos.

By the time I'm old and more crotchety I'm going to be very inked. I have a few specific people I want to get pieces from. One a guy I went to high school with who's always been a very talented artist and I'm kind of pissed at myself for not getting something from him before he went off to Cali.

To explain how into tattoos I am and have been, the first tattoos I saw and loved I was around 8-9 and we had some bikers move in next door. This man named Kelly, his Old Lady and occasionally some of his sons. And I loved Kelly on first sight. He was really huge (to me at the time I was wee tiny), had this long reddish blond hair he wore in braids, and he often wore a Viking helmet. He often picked me up by the shirt held me aloft over his head and snarled at me and I LOVED him.

I loved him the way only little girls can instantly and entirely love someone. I loved his wife too but to a slightly lesser degree although I did tell them that I would marry them both when I grew up. Along with a super cool motorcycle, fabulous hair and a Viking Helmet, Kelly had awesome tattoos. Portraits of his woman and his sons, script, regular FTW biker tats, he showed probably as many as were appropriate to me.

After that I read about tattoos, I stopped anyone I saw who had tattoos and would ask them about their ink. I paid close attention. In high school I had a penpal in Hawaii who was a tattoo artist. I used a fake ID to buy tattoo magazines. I wrote my senior year economics paper on owning a tattoo and piercing shop.

I fucking love tattoos.

Now being that I love tattoos so much you'd think I'd be riddled with them already. However I love them so much that my choice of artist is paramount to me. When I started going around to shops here in Seatown I sat in Vyvyn Lazonga's shop and I remember thinking first that her work was better than what I'd seen in the magazines. Second that there was no way I could afford for her to tattoo a dot on me much less a big piece and third, how nice the people in the shop were even though I never spent a dime in there.

I went around to a lot of shops locally and some I thought immediately I will never let anyone in this shop touch me, muchless with a needle. Others I felt good about. Then I had to decide on a design which took me probably two years and a lot of dicking around in photoshop.

I finally came up with my design, a very simple infinity symbol and the words "The Infinite Soul". And I got me a tramp stamp one night before work at Fenix Tattoo. The entire reason I got it there was because when I went in to have my design looked at and priced, while I was waiting a whole family got pierced together. A pre-teen aged daughter got her ears pierced, Moms got her belly button done, Dad got his ear done.

They were tourists and waiting to go on the Underground tour, I watched how they were treated and I loved it. The daughter was too scared so her parents volunteered to go first and the staff was all very cool and had (okay I know I sound like a hippy) a very loving vibe.

I was SOLD American.

How embarrassing but I can't remember the artists name at the moment. He had only been in Seattle for three days and had none of his stuff. He didn't have his chair, or his station set up the way he liked but he was very sweet. He got me kneeling in a chair and made sure to check on me a lot, talk to me. He stopped when I squeaked, not in pain but I was trying really hard not to giggle because he kept hitting a ticklish spot.

He also gave me probably the most awesome compliment ever. He was about half done, and said "your skin takes ink beautifully. You must take care of it." That's stuck with me. This reminds me I need Uniballer to take a good photo of the damn thing.

Anyway he was very gentle, and I skipped to work all high on endorphins.

So here um, 6-7 years later I'm ready to start with some bigger more involved stuff. I'm also at a point where I can save money for the bigguns.

I obsess about the end outcome. I have very specific ideas about placement and style if not actual design and have for years. A really long time ago I actually had (I rarely if ever manage to do this) a drawing I did of an outline of my body and rough ideas about what goes where. It was my like once every blue moon drawing that was actually good.

And I've been thinking that I would really like to find myself an artist for tummy/back fat area tattoos who can deal with and understand the cushion. Who will not do weird things where I have not quite rolls but um, mini rolls? Cinnarolls? Choco-foldy bits?

That bears thinking about. I don't like using language that isn't really what is going on. If I think something sucks I will probably not say, well I sorta kinda don't really..no I will say that sucks.

So a conundrum. Aside from saying something like the fatter area of my back where my waist is and then there's the fat area under that and I look sort of dented. Or I could say back fat and foldy areas.


Forgive me darlings I did not really sleep last night and I digress. I do think it's important to have artists who will be tattooing my fat not be people who cannot understand the shape of my fat body. Sadly I have seen way too many fat people who've gotten tattoos that were ill placed, or placed in a way that where they are at the tattoo itself is too small or does not flow with the body. If that is your aim then rock on with your bad self.

If it's not speak up.

Wow I was totally going to talk about make up but, this is about body mods because I dig them.

It's all very on my mind because I joined Curvy Canvas on LJ recently, there have also been Fatshionista body mod discussions.

Also holy wow I am totally exhausted and feeling spinnily stupid so I'll stop now.

Homo Out.

No wait one make up picture. Me in all my slightly cock eyed glory with pigment fallout intact. And my unicorn pimple.



Now really goodnight.

Stumble It!

OW my brains.

I sort of have the dumb today and can't really brain in the fashion I'm accustomed to so stay with me in case I start to wander.

So far this Monday (it's totally Tuesday now) I have decided to no longer go to a favored online community because, I see a little too much fat hate and I just don't have the energy to argue with people I think are fucking stupid.

I have also spilled tea, discovered I did not actually bring the correct vitamins etc with me nor did I remember to put my pedometer on my pocket.

From yet another fancy LJ community I got a link to get myself a free pedometer because I could not find the fancy one I had. I got it in this silly Dole sponsered kit thing with a pamphlet and lots of literature extolling me to eat more of their products. However the pedometer has led me to some interesting things.

I discovered that even on a "lazy" day I typically walk about 3.5 miles all together. That is actually a bit more than I thought honestly. I thought I'd top out around maybe 1-1.5 miles and was pleasantly surprised. On a busy day I tend closer to about 5 miles all together.

Not bad for a fat girl with a bad back and shitty knees.

I am still in the process of figuring what my body thinks is too much. For me it's a very fine line as to what will leave me limping and unable to sleep because I'm in pain and what leaves me feeling good.

I really don't want to ever again have the experience of exercising myself to the point of constant pain whether or not I "look" good. Never again.

I found this article via Kate Harding and ye gods. This is the second British lady I've seen do this, the other was a TV show I watched on youtube but good lord. That poor woman.

Just goes to show you, thin doesn't mean good at all. Seriously.

As I said i can't really brain today so I want to share this pair of shoes that I want really -really- bad right now These. OMFG. Holy HELL those are frigging hot.

Where was I?

Everyone go read Heidi's guest post at Shapely Prose. I applaud her for sharing her story. I also really appreciate that someone has a platform to say what a lot of people in the Fat World just do not want to hear.

I hate to say that last bit but it does strike me that all too often those who are in fact debilitated by their fat are shushed or silenced and shamed into not speaking out in their own defense. Or if not defense then maybe on their own behalf because all too often any mention that isn't "positive" gets that look, the "that's not fat.size positive" etc. I worry about that. I worry because isn't that the sort of moralizing and um..(sorry still a little brain dead here) proselytizing for lack of a better term that a lot of people want to get away from?

I really wonder sometimes how many people there are like Heidi but who don't have somewhere like Shapely Prose to speak. Or who don't have connections to the "name" blogs or blogging communities. Where are you? What do you need to say? Who are you? Are you all right?

I want to know.

I have no idea who actually reads this anymore so feel free to remain anonymous if you want to.

What else?

I am as I have always been I think more interested in the stories people tend to not tell. The things they don't say for whatever reason. Especially when it the less popular view of something. I don't know why I've always had that soft spot but it's there.

OH I wanted to tell you all about one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen up close bar none. There was a lady who used to go into the library my Mom worked at for years who is, really astonishingly beautiful. Beautiful in the way that people stare gawping because she is gorgeous. And she is, yes fat.

I saw her dressed up fancy in business suits, and kicking it casual in sweats and no make up and she is just stunning. I met her when I was 18 and was so instantly smitten with her it's just not funny. Even now I get very shy and nervous around people I think are insanely beautiful and I was so cowed by her I'd sort of skulk around so I could peek at her through the shelves at the library.

It too me probably a good six months of covert staring to finally work up the nerve to talk to her. I waited for her to leave the library, marched up and sort of blurted (it was very teen movie-ish) something like "you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and um, yer pretty by" at which point I turned to try and scuttle off, blushing like a school boy.

She stopped me and said thank you, and she blushed which killed me. We had a really nice conversation where I made very clear I wasn't hitting on her just that I thought she was beautiful and should hear it. Often. The one thing that stands out in my memory about her was the gracious way she handled the effusive compliments. That was a huge lesson for me. Prior to that compliments I viewed as probably sketchy and not generally warranted when directed towards me.

From her I learned to take them with a smile.

I ran into her a few years after that and met her equally gorgeous husband and she gave me a hug and told me how I'd grown up to be gorgeous.

While I'm on the subject of beauty. The very first person to ever make me feel truly like a thing of beauty was a drag queen I met randomly during pride week when I was 19.

At that age I was single and as they say fancy free and had bought this killer slightly absurd outfit for Pride. I had these fantastic black jean cut pants that I wore to goddamn death because they looked amazingly hot on me, paired with a cami style tank top in black lace with an actual brown skin color lining (that is so hard to find you'd think nobody ever heard that brown can be a skin color too but that's a whole other entry) with wait for it.....huge maribou trim all around the sweetheart neckline that then trailed down the half open back. And it had a very subtle bit of shiny sequin ish things to it. I paired this with these fantastic platform heels I had, and huge almost afro like hair. The hair was only accomplished by spending about a week before hand in very tight and uncomfortable corn rows.

I will suffer for fashion.

I was also super into glitter on my face. Don't ask.

So all decked out I wandered up to Capital Hill to shop and mingle. I was stopped dead on the sidewalk, twirled and groped by a probably 7 foot tall drag queen who pronounced me the most beautiful actual girl in the vicinity and gifted me with sparkly sunglasses and a fairy wand thing.

It was silly and I was still essentially a baby but, I really felt wonderful and beautiful and probably for the first time like I'd done the whole femme thing right.

The following summer was also the Summer of the Magenta Sequined Mini Skirt.

No I'm serious. You're very own bat cave dwelling supa Goth wore the hell out of a sequined bright magenta mini skirt. I found it crammed in a purse at Good Will (a trick I've pulled myself to save something to get later on). I imagine it was probably a home made part of a drill team or dance team costume. Short A line with this cute keyhole ribbon closure on the front. It was pretty atrocious. Tacky and bright and I wore that shit frequently. Usually paired with a black tank top and my trusty black platform walkin sandals.

There are times my friends, when I make absurd fashion choices mainly because they make me happy and I could really give a fart what any one else thinks.

If I like it, I will probably wear it. Although I am really thankful Uniballer talked me out of this fugly fucking dress I was obsessed with. Does anyone really need a dress with neon colored candy print?

Not really.

Ok enough yammering.

I'm going to look for winter boots. I will report tomorrow. Also, if I find the right pair of boots I may give this whole skinny jeans thing a try. If I can find a pair that will accommodate my ham. I may jam out with my ham out but I refuse to have my ham be uncomfortable.

Homo Out.

Tags: fat, affirmations, body, WTF, hotness

Stumble It!

The D word, my role and whatnot.

First of all Hanne Blank said most everything I wanted to and p;probably far better than I could have.

Particularly this bit:

Here’s what I do claim and want: I want to live in a world where everyone is treated humanely and respectfully just because they’re human. The size or shape or weight of a person’s body is just one of the things that comes under the heading of Bad Reasons To Treat Someone Poorly.

Also, seeing a human being referred to as a "situation" pisses me right the fuck off. I can't even tell you.

In reading today I have no real idea what to think. As Hanne said in her entry, I too am bad at party line. Honestly, I just don't know what to say. I suppose my want to not shove people out of the way because they may or may not toe the line in regards to the issues of weight and weight loss. I still don't believe that in and of itself dieting (not using common vernacular here, so let me rephrase) deliberate weight loss, for the sake of weight loss in an evil thing.

I think this way for a few reasons. Mainly that I know (and I'm sure a lot of other people know) sometimes, for some people those ten pounds make a big world of difference. And I'm not talking about someone who hates their body until they lose that magical ten pounds, I'm talking about someone like me. Who knows that ten pounds ago her knees did not ache so bad, her back didn't hurt so much, her clothes fit properly. And yes, I am one of those people who pretty much still loves my fat ass, but I realize that being in pain and being depressed is not good for my fat ass regardless of how much I love it.

The second reason is as I've said time and time again it's the whole party line thing. I'm not good at it. I've never been good at it. That is probably what's kept me out of various movements or my involvement in various political movements has been short and bitter. I don't like group think.

I don't like conversations that unless you are agreeing or at least seeming to agree you're just shunted out of it because either you "just don't understand" or are willfully not keeping your toes on the line. I'm not saying that is happening here exactly it's just something that chaps my ass in general.

I'm also starting to question my place in the Fatosphere.

I don't know exactly where I'm going here. I suppose my big issue here is that I really don't like the assumption that someone can't still be involved in fat acceptance and size acceptance if they are losing weight. I don't like it because if it's someone I don't know personally who am I to question their motives? Do I know their health situation? Their mental state? I don't like it, I don't do it and seeing it makes me cranky.

Also I have to wonder how much of my own personal history and things that I don't generally talk about in public would get me kicked out of the club if I am in fact in it at all? Does what I say actually matter?

These aren't questions that are exclusive to my involvement in the fatosphere but things I ask myself on a fairly frequent basis whenever I involve myself in something.

After saying all that I suppose I actually can clarify my position. I am not a Fat Activist. Nor am I only for Fat Acceptance. I am for Size Acceptance period. That means fat, thin, inbetween, very fat, very thing whatever.

That means specifically that I want everyone to be able to get quality health care, I want everyone to be happy with their bodies, I want everyone to not get harassed by doctors and random dick heads on the street.

If that means I can't be in the same sandbox as other people involved you know what, that's fine with me. Really. After all this is in fact my sandbox where I get to talk about whatever I want. And really, if you hate it or don't like it we can discuss it, but please don't make the mistake of thinking that you'll change me. You probably won't

Quite honestly at this point, I am pretty pleased with myself. I'm enjoying my body in a way that I wasn't two years ago, or even five years ago. Hell ten goddamn years ago if you want to know the truth. I am mostly pleased with how I approach my life and health. Although I will tell you right now internetz, those ten pounds I referenced above, may have to come off. Mostly to see if it will alleviate some of my joint problems. I really really don't want to go on medication for it. But we'll see.

And I don't think that decision means I can't still have my Size Acceptance/maybe someday actual activist type thing going on. I just don't.

Ok I think that's all I really have to say about all that.

Now I want to switch gears from politics to fashion because I am wearing a very kickass outfit today.

I spend a lot of time wardrobe remixing because I don't usually have a lot of money to spend on new things. Today I am wearing a fabulous fish tail asymetrical hemmed black skirt, a black underwire cami and over that a black cap sleeved mesh shirt with a pretty little o-ring detail in the front that my Cookie gave me a couple of years ago.

I am gothariffic today.

The shoes are not fabulous though. My knees were hurting soemthing fierce earlier so I'm wearing my (starting to feel fug) Mary Janes. I really need new cute shoes I can walk in.

What's special about this outfit is that it's a lot more form fitting than I've been comfortable wearing lately and it looks frigging good. I'm considering maybe a pair of more platform stompy goth Mary Janes or some such.

I had a pretty good weekend. I actually napped yesterday which is way out of the ordinary for me. I also spent some quality time with myself and did pretty making things. Legs shaved (which should be a national holiday since it happens so rarely), mustache removal, manicure (fabulous uber gawth black with a light overlay of red) and on Saturday Uniballer and I did some Dollarstore shopping and went to the Chinese buffet.

The buffet was off the hook. I ate probably 90 bucks worth of seafood. I couldn't help it. It was fantastic. I also made our waitress giggle because I can get down with some seafood. I was peeling shrimp with my nails, then tearing open crab legs with said nails like you don't even know.

I also discovered that I have become woefully inflexible. That's really kind of frustrating to me because unlike a lot of people I know I don't really like doing yoga that much. It just doesn't hold my interest. I have some decent yoga DVD's but I really don't enjoy them. I may go back to the same group of stretches I did for years. Nothing fancy, all of them learned while I was a cheerleader in high school.

Finally something I learned in high school pays off.

What else?

Oooh I've been playing with Polyvore more and I want this outfit or something similar and then i want an event to wear it to. I'm thinking maybe that big Fetish thing taht goes on in December that I can't recall the name of. Circ du Noc? HA my GoogleFu rules. I was right.

So below is the outfit. I WANT.



How hot would that be?

By the way the curved thing in the corner would be for my labret.

Mmm huge fetish party. MMm fancy outfit.

I think I'm about spent. I have some potato soup I would like to eat and some tea to make.

Homo Out.

Tags: fat, body, random, annoyed fat girl

Stumble It!

From the sidelines.

Okay I have a post working up in my head about this whole dword thing and about Hanne Blank (hi *typed while blushing*) but today you know what? I am really not in the mood to talk about it because frankly the whole conversation depresses me.

Instead I want to talk about my body.

Specifically I want to talk about my ass and my boobs. Tits and ass, my own. I will try not to go all lesbotronic again and get sidetracked. It could happen though be forewarned.

First of all I am wearing some of my new Torrid clothes. The pinstriped shortpants. I still do not like the words capri pants so I say shortpants.




First of all these short pants are fairly tight and I wasn't sure I was comfortable with that. They outline my hamhocks like WHOA. Hamhocks here is slang for my thighs o oak. I was a little wibbly about it then said fuck it. Then I got the magical glimpse at my ass and said, hot DAYUM that is one hot ass.

No seriously I swear I did.

My butt(from here on out known as the Brown Round) is not the butt of my dreams sadly. I feel like I got a little cheated in the buttoxial area. I have a slightly round, smallish booty. I want BAM BOOTY. I want badonkadonk, I want junk in my trunk, a motor in the back of my Honda. Remember videos from the early 90's and Jlo back in the day when she was a Fly Girl? Those girls in the BBD video Poison (if you don't want to get up and do the running man while listening to that song there is something wrong with your ass region). I have always wanted that. I still longingly look at girls in videos and get sad. I want BIG BOOTY. Seriously. The kind that if I were still a stripper I could make it clap. I'm not joking. If you don't know what a booty clap is you may not want to ask because I'll show you.

Now back to my Brown Round. These pants make my more cupcake shaped booty look hawt. Generally when I am ogled it's the boobs but I caught someone lookin at my butt and YEAH. And one of my favorite ladies I see most every day said my ass looks hot.

Ok wait have to stand up and bootyshake at my desk. That Naughty By Nature song Hip Hop Hooray is on and I like that song.

I got SO sidetracked you don't even know. There is something to love about working somewhere, where you can dance at your desk for a few minutes and people will join you. And tell you that your pinstriped pants are kick ass.

Now where was I? Right-o my ass.

So when I started this entry I was still feeling sort of meh entirely. I didn't sleep well last night, my knees hurt so I couldn't wear my very sexy wedge platform sandals with my sexy shortpants, but I am feeling far sassier now. Saucy in fact.

It also helps that I totally just scored an Urban Decay glitterliner for 10 bucks shipped. I got it in Spandex which the site says is, "black, accented w/ rainbow glitter".

If you're new here or just surfed in from the Fatosphere I am a complete make up and clothes whore. No seriously. I love make up like drag queens like padded bras. I love all things related to make up. I own and wear a ton of make up. It makes me squee.

I am also highly thrifty so anytime I get kick ass products at kickass prices I get SUPER excited.

Now let's talk about my boobs. Honestly, no matter what weight I am at my boobs are my favorite physical characteristic. Even when I call them unruly bitches, or when they are fighting to get out of my shirt I still love em.

My D Cups of Doom baby.

They make me happy.

Matter of fact I just dabbed a little BPAL perfume in them. Today I am wearing Tushnamatay. I am now addicted to BPAL and I have all my imps in a special little box.

I think I'm over this right now. I am going to finish my snack and probably cruise the intertubes for more glamours things for low prices.

No WAIT one more thing I am very excited about. I bought a surprise grab bag of clothes from GoodGoth.com I will report back when I get it.

Homo Out.

Stumble It!

Big Girls Represent! Part Duex

Over at BFD Mo Pie posted the following video.



Now watching that, it's clear she's a damn good dancer. I personally needed no proof to know that big girls can in fact work it. I know for DAMN sure that big girls can get down. Whether it's belly dancing like above, big girl walking it out like a motherfucker or three big girls getting down in the back yard and dropping it like it's hella hot. Fuck the comments. I want to go out dancing with those girls.

Like the song says, Watch Out For the Big Girls. And if you're me you add a mother fucker at the end.

In other annoying news I stumbled on a blog (not going to link it, not worth it) in which every entry is some railing or flailing about fats in food. One gem of an entry that caught my eye was this person taking issue with ascorbic acid. Vitamin C not the sort that's used in photographic chemicals. And yet again I'm stunned. Are you serious? I have to wonder if this person realizes that the lemon juice he/she wants on apples served at Micky D's has ascorbic acid in it too?

Also his/her recipe for a "flat stomach" is absurd. Eating no fat will not give you a magically flat stomach. In fact, there are some people (myself included) who can eat next to nothing, do thousands of crunches and other ab exercises and never, ever have a flat stomach. Some people just are not meant to have the washboard abs and that my fine friends is fucking fine.

This same person is of the mind that certain things should just be banned because they are bad for you. I think that is a patently bad idea. America does not have good luck in legislating morality. Not just that but health is not a moral imperative. Not eating fatty foods is not a moral imperative no matter how rabid you might be about a person being healthy it is not your choice plain and simple.

One of the arguments "against obesity" that constantly evokes an eyeroll from me is the one about how much money it costs everyone else. By that rationale shouldn't people who have issues with genetic abnormalities be prevented from having children since if the children inherit those, it will cost "everyone" more? Or what about people who have diseases that are genetic?

People rarely stop to think about what they are really saying, nor do they look to see how far down the rabbit hole goes. I don't like to be an alarmist about it but, the truth is once you start chipping away at personal choice and getting into other peoples business, where does it stop? We see it all the time.

These days people feel it's perfectly ok to comment on another person's body with a sense of ownership. Why? Because it's allowed, it's chic.

I'm kind of all over the place here don't mind me. Internet is gettin me.

Ok I'm derailing that train of thought right now.

And I have some links.

How often have you looked at boobs? Not airbrushed pumped up porn star boobs, but normal every woman boobs? You should check out this website. Clearly, that's not work safe. If you are having one of those "oh my GOD my boobs are ugly" moments, look and love.

I also really like the website The Shape of a Mother. There are photos of bodies of women who've had children and are pregnant. A beautiful place.

And finally Bellies Are Beautiful. All sorts of bellies. I may send in a pic of mine.

That's it. Uniballer has tasty pork treats for me and I want my damn dinner.

Goodnight.

Homo Out.

Tags: annoyed fat girl, fat, boobs, body, links,

Stumble It!

Don't hold your breath.

A lot on my mind today.

Aside from the heat I'll get to that later.

First health.

if you've been reading me for awhile you probably are already well aware that I am a believer and lover of HAES. My love of HAES did not come about because I am a fat woman. Actually it came about because as a thin woman I was unhealthy and unhappy. And I was astounded and confused.

I had reached that mythical place of the Thin and I was miserable. It wasn't until a nurse at my doctor's office suggested that maybe I was better off at a higher weight.

Wait...what?

She told me to just stop what I was doing and think about it. That was all she said and I was off and running.

Actually I stopped running because running makes my body not function properly.

So that in mind I am having a bit of a thing right now.

I feel crappy in general.

My joints and back have been hurting a lot and I've ruled out a lot of things except for the ten pounds or so that I've gained in the last couple of years. So my wonder here is this.

Am I feeling that I could try to lose ten pounds and see how I feel physically as some emotional residue of some sort? I don't really think so. I"m actually pretty emotionally OK with my current size.

I honestly do not want to have to go on arthritis medication. I don't want to at all.

What's sort of baffling in a kind of good way is that medication aside weight loss was my last thought. And actually a disheartening one. That in and of itself represents a huge change in thinking and feeling for me.

But it remains that I am going to slowly and gently revamp my exercise routine. See what happens and how I feel. Try not to get upset if my boobs shrink.

In other news not related to the size of my ass or how craptastic my knees are I found out via F-Words (not Gordon Ramsey..but go read her anyway right now) that the magazine Jane is shutting down shop.

I am not particularly sad about that. They lost me when after all the hype about diversity and body love and blablablabla they were essentially exactly like other ladies mags but liked to pretend they weren't. However I did enjoy Pamela Anderson's column. She's actually a very funny lady.

But I have to link to the "10 Things to Hate About Jane" article from Bitch Magazine. And OMG Bitch has a Blog. I know right? DUH Shannon of COURSE they have a blog. Shh.

I seriously just read the whole first page of that and my girl parts are all atwitter. I am in lurve.

Now back to news about my ass and fatness.

Yes my ass. I want to talk about covers for my ass. Pants and yes even panties. I know craziness abounds but I am having a moment.

So I want a new pair of pants. I want a pair of black pants. Not yoga pants. Not capri pants. I want black trousers. Preferably with a slight boot cut and that make my ass look good.

Do you know how hard my mission has been?

I don't want flashy doodads on them. I don't want anyone's name embroidered across the ass. My ass does not need billboard adverts.

It makes me and my ass cranky.

Also can we discuss for a moment stupid people?

So today I am wearing one of my favorite summer dresses since it was about 90 out when I left for work. Yesterday I wore a summer dress too. I skanked it up a little bit.

So right summer clothes.

So I was talking to this girl at the park and ride who is very cute. I see her all the time and she seriously Jams Out With Her Ham Out. (TD again I love you for putting that term in my head). Today she was wearing a short jean skirt, some hot cork wedges and a very cute babydoll style top. She is the hotness.

So we're talking and this girl walks by and says to my bus riding hot homie there, "you should put some pants on".

Now this is why I like this girl, she turned around looked down at the girl and said:

"You're an asshole."

Dead pan.

That makes me excited.

I am running out of steam and I am out of Chex Mix. Now I am sad.

More about shopping tomorrow because I have some $$ saved up for some thrifting.

Homo Out.

Stumble It!

Only in the future.

First of all let me say right now that I am SO in love with Jennifer Hudson it's not even funny.

Gorgeous Voice.
Her skin? Don't even get me started.
Hair is fabulous.
But goddamn that body.

Look at how gorgeous she is:




I mean COME on look at her.

So in looking at LOTS of photos of her I have a similar build except my legs are nowhere near that long and she's a bit slimmer than I am.

Which brings me to point number.

I want to be a bellydancer.

Yeah I know I know you're thinking "yeah you've said that a million times." The main difference is that I want to be performing. Maybe in a troupe within five years.

Five years.

I want to be in something like Hands of Kali. I want to make fabulous costumes. I want to teach other women to belly dance.

Part of my reasoning for this is some self healng. I very firmly believe that finding something to do that makes you feel like a Goddess is much more healing than medication or therapy. I don't want to talk my way to feeling like the wonderful gift of nature that I am. i want to proactively DO it.

So yeah. Until I can afford regular belly dance lessons I am going to write to some local people to see what all they recommend. I'm also going to get into better shape and start doing yoga again.

That is what the plan is goddamn it.

In other pantsless news today I am wearing a full length brown velvet skirt, black wife beater, black textured tights, mary janes, and my black velvet/poly hoody.

I am also wearing the Vanilla Chai perfume I got from Fyrinnae and it is a delicious smell. Not overpowering too sweet vanilla but a lovely spicy mellow vanilla that I find very sexy. I keep sniffing my boobs since I dabbed some in my cleavage.

I also really like how this particular beater fits. The U neckline and the slightly chubby cleavage look is teh hawtness.

For right now though I need to motivate myself to hustle on up to Safeway for a new water bottle. I was going to stop on my way to work but got sidetracked by ya know getting to work on time.

First test calls to make.

Weee prank calling myself FUN.

Homo Out.

Stumble It!