It's just a pie to the face, is all.

I'm thrilled that February is almost over because I have to tell you, little campers, this month has been really hard on me. I got my computer back on Tuesday and then it stopped working again briefly on Thursday. This was sort of the straw that broke the camel's back. I kind of lost it. I had a few beers. I hardly got any work done. It was just too much.

And, then I get to the computer shop on Friday night (couldn't go earlier because there was snow and it took us an hour to drive a distance that normally takes 20 minutes!) I go to show them the new problem and it is suddenly gone. So, I'm standing there, in the computer shop (20 minutes before close) feeling like a complete tool. To quote Dan and Casey from Sports Night:

Dan: Sometimes, it's worth it, all the pies in the face. Sometimes you come out feeling pretty good.

Casey: And, sometimes you just stand there, hip deep in pie.

I feel like this month has been like that. Me, standing here, hip deep in pie. Well, maybe more sternum deep in pie because I keep getting hit with more pies in the face.

But, the thing I've realized about all of this, the silver lining of this month has been that it truly could have been so much worse. My country isn't run by a dictator hell bent on keeping his grasp on the reins of the country. Nor did my city get hit with a major earthquake. And, I've managed to get within two days of the end of the month on Health Month and I've still got 8 life points left. So, I must be doing something right. Ya, this month has been rough. Ya, I'm hurting a little. But, no bigs because I'm still here and I'm still full of fight.

That being said, I hope that there's something in store for me in March that isn't pies in the face.

Snippy

Recently, I've had suffered a series of unfortunate events. My computer died. My car died. There are some not-delightful things going on with my lungs. And, I'm the sort of person who tries to deal with things as rationally as possible. For me, X happens. I come up with a series of steps to deal with X. And, that's just how it goes.

That being said, I'm still an incredibly emotional human being and while I may do my best to rein my emotions in, it does not always work. and, whether or not my "try to deal with things as rationally as possible" is a healthy strategy or not, it is my strategy and I tend to do a pretty good job of it.

Except, when many things break at once. Like right now. Times like these, I'm much more likely to punch a b*$%# in the face (see, even my language goes). Or, I just get really snippy. In particular, I get snippy with people who keep asking me how things are going. For example:

Colleague: So, your car still in the shop?
Me: It sure is. Since you're the one who has been giving me a ride to work, don't you think you'd be one of the first people I'd tell when it isn't?
Colleague: I was just asking.

And, then I apologize. I know people are just asking but I also know that part of me is working really hard to not explode or cry or punch someone to deal with the massive amounts of frustration and having the things I'd relegated to the "can't work on until X is resolved" brought back up just adds to my frustration.

Maybe I need a new strategy. :/ Or, maybe I really should make meditation one of my health month rules next month.

STRESS!!!!!

I've been completely stressing out about a presentation that I had to give yesterday about my research to my entire department. Now, I know that my department is full of excellent researchers who are also decent human beings so that, when you give a presentation you get excellent feedback (that is delivered in a kind way). I know that I'm not an idiot. I know I've worked hard on this. And, yet, I can't seem to help not psyching myself out and thinking that I have nothing useful to say before a big presentation.

Which is so ridiculous.


Because the presentation went fine.

And, there was a good discussion afterward from which I got at least one reference to some work in another language that may support my claim.


So, yesterday, I get up and I'm freaking out so I sit down and drink my usual cup of joe and play with my cats and go over my slides again. Then, my carpool buddy calls and pack stuff up and grab a banana and go. After my first two classes, I buy a cup of coffee. I get back up to my office and my friend has brought me a donut. I eat my donut. I look at my slides some more. I got to my third class. I give my presentation. And, then, on the ride home I realize the only things I've consumed today have been water, coffee, milk and sugar in the coffee, a donut and a banana.

That dog won't hunt, Monsignor.

So, before dinner (I know, right!) I went digging through my bag and realized I had a honey tangerine. I ate it.

I'm totally changing tenses in this post. Sorry about that.

Eventually I went to dinner with friends and had some Indian food. But, I can't help but wonder if I'd be more calm if I ate on a schedule.

I can't go to the gym

So, I wonder if anyone else has this experience. I will get ready to work out and by get ready I mean suit up and even get as far as the front door if I'm "running" or actually make it all the way to the gym and then I'll go outside or I'll get into the room with the machines and I will start to feel panicky and I will have to leave. The thought of working out, of doing any physical activity in front of any people is actually very upsetting to me. It is like being in P.E. class when I was little and the jerks would point out how slow I was because I was fat or would throw the dodge balls at me with full force because it would make that great thwaking sound when I didn't get out of the way fast enough. I know it is ridiculous to compare it that, partly because we're all grownups now and partly because no one else at the gym cares what I look like or what I'm doing there. But, part of me feels, when I'm running on a treadmill or on a bike or an eliptical trainer, that while I may be clever, well-educated and occasionally amusing that I've never looked like what I should look like so that none of that matters. I can't go to the gym. I. Just. Can't. I don't need to do things that make me feel worthless, like most people I have those moments without forcing them to happen.

I find myself in this odd situation where I would really like to add more physical activity to my daily life but I'm at a loss for how to do this. I can't go to the gym for the reasons I've previously outlined. And, I have a pretty full schedule so adding more classes like Zumba and Belly dancing (both of which I've started in the last month) is problematic. Perhaps I just need to get back to my challenge and really try to make it stick this time. I know I feel better and more relaxed when I work out, but I can't make myself do something that makes me want to cry. That just doesn't seem reasonable to me.

Owning it

So, as the seven readers of this blog already now, I'm back in the land where I'm from visiting my family for a spell. Visiting is always complicated, maybe others disagree, when you're visiting someplace you had lived for quite a long time. There are lots of people and places you want to fit in and not a lot of time and schedules have to be taken into account and it is a delicate balancing act (which makes visiting not always the best form a vacation can taken since you end up getting up early and running around and driving...so much driving. I digress.)

Anyway, on this little trip home I had the opportunity over the weekend to go shopping with my Mother and my sister, which is always a good time. We tried stuff on and laughed and found some really nice pieces on sale (My Mom and I ended up picking out and then buying the same endless scarf, but in different colors). We were in a store that we've all been to together before, but probably not in at least a year and I turned to my Mother and I said, "Where are the fat girl clothes?" And, she was surprised by the question. I think she responded with, "The plus sizes are that way." and then she said something like, "I didn't want to use that word."

I love my Mom, she's great. And, she's also struggled with weight and body image so I know that she's sensitive to these issues and she'd never want to do anything to hurt my feelings. I appreciate that. It is nice knowing that people do take your feelings into consideration. But, I'm at this point in my life where I just want to own it. I want to use words to mean what they mean and not pussyfoot around the pragmatics of things. I'm a fat girl. And, you know, I don't feel bad about it. I'm also a smart girl and a funny girl and (shock) a healthy girl who eats a lot of vegetables and a not-to-be-trifled with girl and making an effort to save people's feelings and avoid the word 'fat' for so long as made a big deal out of being fat. And, while my size might be one of the most obvious things about me visually, it is actually one of the least important things about me in total. I feel like there should be more of the bigger picture taken into consideration.

DEATHFATTY ON A BICYCLE!

So, this tumblr site which used to be called "Fuck Yeah, Deathfatties!" has been a great source of inspiration to me. Here are all these fine women, doing their thing and looking fucking awesome while doing it and it is so nice to have a place where you can look and see all different body types and shapes instead of what is our cultural standard.

I was finishing up an errand earlier today and it was gorgeous out. The plan had been to run my errands and then go have ice cream, but I changed my mind. I came home and I got on my bike. I thought I would take a spin around my neighborhood. What I did was find a back way that connects to the bike trail that is sort of near my house. Since I found the trail, I figured, what the hell, let's actually ride on it for a little while.

The trail itself winds along a creek and goes for about five miles. I rode about half of it. I then took a different route home. And, while I was riding I had a funny little thought, "Oh my. Its a Deathfatty on a bicycle. Look out, World!"

I had another thought while I was riding, too. I understand that there are a lot of health issues that are caused by long term obesity, but I can't help but think that our obsession with appearance is a major contributor to that. How many people don't work out because they're so ashamed of how they look? How many other deathfatties weren't out bike riding today, not because they didn't want to but because they know they are out of shape and they are embarrassed about that.

I will admit that I get embarrassed when I go for a ride or a walk and I come back practically panting and red-faced. But, I keep doing it because I actually enjoy it. It feels good to move. I wonder if we focused more on that and less on appearance, if the "fat problem" would be as much of a problem.

I'm just on a roll

So, I'm sitting on my couch, thinking about getting up and taking a shower, drinking tea with white honey while listening to Joni Mitchell on Last.fm. And, this morning instead of the cereal that I bought new milk to pour over last night, I had one of Kellogg's new Cinnabon snack bars.

Yes, that's right. Its my ass and I'll add cinnamon roll snack bar to it if I want.

I've been thinking lately, and, yes, I'll get back to focusing on the dieting but right now I'm going to go off on another body issues and society rant.

I've been many weights and I will be honest with you, one of the things that off-putting about really committing to going from being a bigger woman to being a smaller woman is this:

Some men do not seem to know how to express their appreciation for the female form without being skeezy, leering, creepy and/or weird.

Now, I illustrate with examples. The last time I got down to smoking hot, I had more than one guy friend that had only ever known me at the higher weight walk up to me, put his arm around me, give me the visual once-over and then say something like, "Well, you're looking really good."

Now, these experiences admittedly probably freaked me out more than they would freak out the average bear because I'm very protective of my personal space. I just don't particularly care for a lot of people in my space. And, by a lot of people, I mean that if we don't have a hugging relationship I don't feel you should ever touch me for any reason and if we do have a hugging relationship, you should probably already have my attention or have me otherwise engaged before initiating physical contact. Also, I don't have many hugging relationships with men. (I can think of three off the top of my head of my head who aren't my father who get a hug *every time* I see them.)

So, here's the thing: I understand that these men just wanted to show their appreciation for something that obviously had required a lot of time and effort. They thought I looked nice and they wanted me to know that they appreciated that fact. But, I didn't come away from those experiences feeling appreciated, I ended up feeling cheap and as if I'd been stripped of my agency. I felt like I'd spent all this time and effort and that the pay off was that men who had known me for years and were (likely)* well aware of my protectiveness of my own space now felt it was appropriate to invite themselves into it. But, it doesn't matter what size I am, if I don't offer you a hug, I don't want you in my space.

I just think there has to be a better way to show your appreciation for how someone looks and the (possibly) obvious effort they put into looking like that.

*I say likely here because, while its unlikely that they were never told that I don't like being touched, it is possible that they never realized I was being serious. And, I say its unlikely because I used to wear a button on my name tag that said, "You are too close." Also, I say, "Oh, no touching." frequently. You know the mice in The Hitchhiker's guide posited that they could just replace Arthur's brain with a machine that repeated stock phrases like, "Cuppa tea?" My machine-brain would say, "Oh, No touching," "True Story," and "Well, that's less than ideal." Seriously. True Story.

Off Hand Remarks

You know when I said this was probably going to turn into a place where I come to rant about body issues and society? Well, folks, today is that.


I recently exchanged comments with someone (whom I respect and admire. It would not go too far to say that I may have a little fangirl crush on this person and that I hope to one day be where this person is) on a social networking site about a woman on who owned H.P. Lovecraft on Mastermind. Someone quoted this guy, further joking ensued. A great time was had by all.


Except for about an hour afterward, I felt uncomfortable and a little odd. Then, I figured out what was bothering me. Here was a woman that I identified with. I watched that video and I thought, "She's my people." And, when I contributed to the exchange, I used gender neutral words. I thought I was setting an explicit boundary that said, "This is a person and this is how I want to see her." The invocation of her sexuality (and, I do not know her and so could not say. It is perhaps true that Lovecraft really, really turns her on) was shocking to me. She was not doing anything that was an explicit performance of sexuality. Everyone views things differently; I don't have a problem with people seeing things that turn them on. I don't even have a problem with people expressing that. My problem is that it seems like feminine sexuality invites commentary. I have an intellectual relationship with the person on the other half of the exchange. We don't hang out. We don't exchange birthday greetings. I don't know if this person has siblings or if they have pets. Its just not part of our relationship. So, I didn't expect to be joking about how smart women are hotter in bikinis. And, as a smart woman who never wears a bikini, I was a little freaked out.


Now, I'm pretty sure that part of this has to do with losing weight. I'm back on the path to hotness and as I know from previous attempts this always brings up questions for me about identity, what is attractive, and where I fit in the world, and how to best perform my sexual identity so that I'm the one that is getting something from it. These are complicated issues because I grew in an era where Kate Moss reigned supreme and every model from Seventeen to Cosmo (the real Cosmo, I'm too old to have read Cosmo Girl) looked like she was about one accident with a needle away from being a drug statistic. My notion of myself and my notion of what is attractive do not often have large overlaps. And, when they do, I've found myself the recipient of much unwanted attention. So, how do we deal with these things? How do we deal with being smart and sexy? How do you successfully express ownership of a sexual identity that has been objectified and work it to your advantage? I'm at a loss about this.

Picking A Plan

I have decided to re-read The South Beach Diet and The Eat Clean Diet. While they might deny that they are the same thing, they are pretty similar. They are both plans that focus a life-long overhaul of how you eat focusing on complex carbohydrates like the ones found in whole grains and fruits and vegetables and lean proteins. I have also decided to cancel my eDiets subscription. In March, I signed up for their Glycemic Impact diet (which is, again, a diet focused on complex carbohydrates and lean proteins.)

I have made this decision for two reasons. The first reason is that I don't sign into eDiets frequently enough to justify the expenditure. While I can see how it would be a tremendous resource, I found that when I was following their menu I was buying way more food than I actually ate. This meant that I wasted a lot of food. And, when I was going through the menus and trying to decide what not to buy (because I knew I wasn't going to eat as much as they predicted I would eat) I would just end up creating my own menu anyway. And, the second reason? I feel like South Beach and Eat Clean are geared towards learning principles to live by. I would like to (re)learn some general principles as I hope to one day live in a world where I do not feel like my life is centered around food and eating. I'm hoping I'm not the only person out there who feels like this, but I feel like most of my day centers around what I can eat, what I should eat, and (sadly) what other people are thinking about what I eat. I know, its ridiculous but I probably spend as much time scrutinizing food choices for their social consequences as I do actually preparing and eating food. (If you're one of the people free of this affliction, let me just tell you that it takes pretty much all off the fun out of eating. It makes it impossible to really enjoy the things that are bad for you and it makes the things that are good for you, whether they are tasty or not, a chore.) I know this is crazy; I would like to someday be free of it. But, today is not that day. Today is a salad with peppers, tomatoes and grilled chicken breast served with a big glass of water day.