i know - my posting has been random, rambling and super uninteresting. it has been a rambling, random and super uninteresting but highly explosive few weeks for me, and i've been trying to limit the casualties - my blog being one of them, but y'all know that i am a creature of habit, and can't help myself. i just can't. so life has swung from beautiful and introspective, to some sort of wild carnival ride that no one is tending. and i know from what i speak, having been stuck on the Scrambler with my cousin barfing all over me and the ride operator (fresh from incarceration, no doubt) chatting up some chickie and not paying attention till the cold slap of something wet-and-not-his finally made target with his arm, side, best shoes, and the general public in line. But i digress.
my life has been consumed with planning the upcoming fundraiser. and haunting Lane Bryant. I leave for a week of art retreating next wednesday, and am like a kid who's been told too early that the family is going to Disney. i am mostly packed, supply-wise, and have no idea what to bring clothing-wise. i can't find my fall/winter clothes, and suspect most of them won't fit. last winter the tags said "8" or "10." and it's so bizarre working on a fundraiser for an eating disorder resource center because i worry that i have a disorder, rather than a concern (because i may be a nervous freak, but don't think i have an eating disorder, but what do i know?) and worry that any mention of it will set off an alarm somewhere - sort of like having an afternoon hanging out with a priest or a psychic...everytime i talk about my weight or sizes, i think they might throw me into therapy. much like it feels like the priest or psychic can see your soul, so you have to be careful, which is as hard for me as spending time with little kids - they repeat everything, and by the end of the day, you just want to stand on a chair, and in your loudest outdoor voice scream the "F" word at the top of your lungs just to let off steam. and i love words. all words. and their origins and ideas they convey and how inflection and context can make a difference and how a person's background and upbringing can make a difference in how a word is perceived or received. (i've had no upbringing, so have a clean slate). words are alive and like an art supply to me. Like George Carlin said, "there are no bad words. Bad People, bad intention. But words are just words." and yet i don't want to offend with talk of weight and size and former size, when i'm with people who may be nervous about that line of conversation. so here, in my own forum, where i write the words and rules, i will tell you this: being fat is disappointing to me, yet I haven't felt this free in years. ahhh. there. i said it. yes - i look at pictures of myself when i was thinner and wish for it again, but pointing my day around eating the "right" food and working out and counting calories and weighing myself and and and...it was exhausting and nerve-wracking. and i am not at all fooled by those 100-calorie packs of snacks with big pictures and microscopic cookies the size of a contact lens. and if the science is correct, the stress of it all probably loosened up enough cortisol to increase my waistline by another 4 inches. i feel happier and sadder. it is a relief to stop trying to fight menopause and quitting smoking and metabolism and heredity just to fit into last year's (week's??) jeans. and my fear of not finding stylish clothes for a larger size has been blown away, so now i can relax a bit. do i plan to eat all the cake in all the northeast? no. but i will have a slice when i want it and not think a single thing about it. other than "Damn! this is good!" and it is true that i really don't enjoy seeing pictures of myself. it is true that i see the chubby cheeks and the jowls and the jacked-up teeth (thanks to a really bad dentist who finally retired before i could stalk him down) and the tired eyes...i could go on all day. but the weird thing about all these words is that they are not internalized to the depth you may think. i am still the same person i was in those "skinny" pictures....i am still the same person i was when my tags had single digits. but the responses i get from people have changed. things that i would say when i was thinner / younger / whateverer get a much different response. it's almost like wearing a costume...you forget that people can't tell who it is behind the eyes. i am inside looking out - you are outside, seeing my body, my face, etc. as we talk. I don't think about the perception people may have of fat people - they should be jolly or mean or grateful that you want to be their friend, pick one. so if i'm being coy...who do i think i am?? fat people are not sexy. they are sloppy and over-indulgent and don't care enough about themselves to....lose weight. just lose weight. so on behalf of myself - my fat, over-50 self - i would like to say this: I am beautiful because it is my heart and spirit that will transcend...i have fought LifeBattles that bear listening to...i have wisdom you may need...i will accept you - even if you're skinny :)
and that is my post for today. how we ended up here, i will never begin to figure out. i was going to write about puppies. but i know that there is someone that needed a grain of what was in there today...someone who needs to stop looking in the mirror in the bathroom, and turn out the lights, close their eyes and take a deep breath and smile - make yourself smile, and hold that position for a few minutes until it isn't forced...and then just listen to what your heart has to say to you, sweet one, because i promise you - yes, it's you i'm talking to - i promise that it is okay and that you are exactly who you need to be for your Place here, your Direction...there is a reason for the darkness and it will be clear in hindsight...but you do indeed have a purpose, and that purpose needs you to be exactly.who.you.are.today. warts and all. yes, you can call. but do the smile thing first.