(TIME TO SAY) GOOD-BYE TO TURNING TABLES

Last night I parted ways with a friend of mine.

Another one, you ask? Yes. It is weird to say that. Yes, another friend and I have decided it's better for us to go our separate ways. This latest one hurts just as much as the others, even if this person wasn't as much a part of my life as the others. This one wanted to know everything about me and my life, but shared very little about her life with me. I knew more than most do, sure, but looking back on it all now, I can't help but wonder if everything I do know - would it amount to anything significant? Then again, who gets to say what is significant and what isn't?

Maybe it's me. All of these friendships are crumbling around me, and yes, I'm left standing - for now. All statues begin to crumble after time, right? When I finally stand up for myself, I don't back down for fear of hurting them, they start to drop off like flies, but while they fall, they flail. Throwing punches, scrambling to get that last dagger thrown in hopes of what, redemption? They want to keep fighting, and want me to keep reaching out to save them, to fix everything, and us. I've now gotten to the point where I don't want to do it anymore. I'm tired. Exhausted. Drained. I give up on fighting for friendships, fighting to help make everyone else in my life better while letting myself slip away.

With that being said, a serious debate went into effect recently and something was pointed out to me, something I never even noticed, or realized, or even thought existed until recently. Go ahead and laugh, but I am now a firm believer in emotional vampires. Har har, yes, I know, it's a riot. But given the way my relationships have turned sour lately, I'm finally starting to understand why. Don't rule me out - listen to this:

Emotional Vampire: A co-dependent person who looks outside of themselves for self definition and self worth. They tend to be self obsessed, negative and controlling. They are in an emotional black hole and refuse to see that they have a problem.

Here are some signs of an Emotional Vampire

1. External referencing: distrusting own perceptions, lacking boundaries, believing one cannot survive without a relationship/addicted to relationships, fearing abandonment, believing in the perfect union.

2. Care-taking: become indispensable, become a victim

3. Self-centeredness: personalizing all events, assuming responsibility for other’s behavior.

4. Over-controlling: increasing control efforts when chaos increases, attempting to control everything and everyone, controlling without caring for those controlled, believing that with more effort you can fix the addict/family.

5. Feelings: unaware of feelings, distorting emotional experiences/accepting only acceptable feelings, fearfulness.

6. Dishonesty: managing all impressions made, omitting/lying about the truth, rigidity.

7. Gullibility: being a bad judge of character, unwillingness to confront, over-trusting, accepting what fits, wishes the way things were.

Now after saying all of this you are probably thinking..

“I don’t know anybody like that..I could tell if someone had all of those issues”

Wrong! Emotional Vampires can hide who they are very well because most of them have had this dark cloud over them their whole lives.

At first they usually come into your lives VERY positive and only give you positive feedback/messages. However usually after a period of time the truth starts to come out, you find out these people truly are not happy with life. They have very random mood swings. One minute they are “happy” and the next minute they are depressed and want to either isolate themselves from the world or bring you down to their level.

For example, have you ever experienced someone who questions or is annoyed when someone is happy? I mean the person is REALLY annoyed and doesn’t understand why people are happy and have a smile on their face. Trust me when I tell you that people like that are dead inside and will NEVER understand someone who is so full of life.

They look at people who aren’t Emotional Vampires as if they are THE PROBLEM and EV’s love to surround themselves with people who are just as depressed and lonely as them.

However on occasions they do want to come out of their black hole and that’s when they meet you, the positive person who on the majority of your days has a positive outlook on life. Now I figured that an EV coming out of their “Why me, I hate life” mood is either a manipulating person and their only goal is to tear you down or this person is trying to find a way to heal themselves and get out of the dark hole.

Being an Emotional Vampire is an addiction just like someone who is on narcotics. Until the person is ready to deal with their internal issues they will continue to feed off of that addiction because that’s where they are comfortable. Can you try to help? Sure, but don’t get too involved because TRUST ME you will be the one hurt in the end. Why? Early in the definition it states that EV’s are gullible and are a bad judge of character, therefore they will ALWAYS pick the opposite of what they need to get out of their black hole. They refuse to choose the people who stay real and encourage them because those aren’t acceptable feelings. They select the people that are like minded and that’s why they continue to have the fakes, misery, depression and the lost soul. So eventually someone who is comfortable in their ways will start to retaliate against you. Like I said before they don’t understand you, you are speaking a foreign language.

They DO NOT want to hear

“Love yourself”,

“Stop worrying about things you can’t control”

“Get the courage to stand up for yourself and have a different approach in life”

They rather hear

“Why are people treating me like this”

“Why can’t I be happy”

“If this person would only love me I would feel complete and better about myself”

If you are dealing with an Emotional Vampire, you only have 3 options in this scenario: Fix it, Accept it or Remove yourself from it. If you have been dealing with this EV for a while you probably see by now trying to fix it hasn’t worked and accepting it still drains you. So at this point you might want to remove yourself from it. Now of course this maybe easier said than done because you may care about that person. However what it comes down to is……..who do you love more, you or them?

That, sums up every one of my failing relationships lately. It also means I have A LOT to think about. Because, as it states above, it comes down to one thing. Who do I love more? Myself, or them? At this point, I think I've made my decision and now it's a matter of standing strong behind that decision. The sadness will pass at some point, and maybe as time goes on, I'll start to feel like myself again.

Maybe.

IT'LL ALL GET (BETTER IN TIME)

I know, I know, two blog posts in two days - who would have guessed it? I'll be honest, I didn't plan on blog again for a very long, but today is a new day and things have changed. My mind is racing, still. So many thoughts and feelings are swirling around inside my brain, some want to get out and others don't. Which leaves me in a bit of a stalemate, don't you think? If not, you should.

It's hard to say one thing, then feel another. I say it's time to let go, then I feel an ounce of sadness wrapped up with it, which leaves me sitting with my hands clutched tight, each finger is slowly uncurling. I'm left with that overwhelming fear of what will happen if the last finger loses grip. Will I survive in the end? I've survived worse, after all. In my last post, I did describe myself as a fighter, yes? I can't make this post about how I'm a coward, now can I? Who wants to read the thoughts of a hypocrite? Not me.

This morning I felt a lot of sorrow. I realized that maybe I'm still attached and I'm unwilling to distance myself as much as I talked myself up to believe I was. I wallowed a little, remembering the good times, looking through pictures and old emails - only to find myself admittedly making a mistake. Then the rest of the day developed. Now? Well, now I feel sorrow for a different reason. I'm mostly feeling unappreciated and frustrated, which makes me angry. My emotions are all over the place now and I'm sitting here attempting to remind myself to just breathe. Relax. Don't be irrational, don't say things that will be hurtful, don't keep holding on and just let what is, be.

When I feel as much as I have in the last few days, I can't help but think about the bigger picture. What's the point of everything going on? What's the point of feeling the way I feel? Is there a point at all or is it all just wasted energy? Thinking of the bigger picture, I think I can chalk this current state in life to another reason why I consider myself 'a bridge' in a lot of relationships. I'm always the one who helps someone get from point a to point b. Whether that be a boy who wasn't quite ready to fall in love, who I helped to restart their heart, and is now in love with someone else; or a best friend who barely knew who she was, that I helped open up to the world and she's now beautiful, happy and everything she wanted - without me. It's part of growing up. People come and go, right? Every moment in time is just another piece to the puzzle, helping you, and me, become who we want, get where we need to go, discover what the world has in store for us, and that's all right. It's healthy, and beautiful. But is that all this world has in store for me; to let me take the broken and mend them so they can shine - be bigger, better, happier?

I'm the support system. Always have been, really. I am the bridge. I help rebuild from the rubble, help whomever cross that bridge, and then it's burned down. That person moves on and I'm left to smolder in the ashes left behind. Everyone needs a bridge, right? We all have things we need to face that we cannot do alone. Some people simply jump off the end, others take the help in order to cross the trouble waters, then there are some like me - we take the long way. The scenic route. I'd rather feel it all. Let me walk along the water's edge, never to get wet, move through the mud and the broken branches off the forest. I continue on the undeveloped path and wait until I find the next person who needs help, see if they are worth offering a piece of my soul to or not, before I decide to move along.

Now, thinking about that, did I just answer my own question? If I'm not a writer, who am I? What am I? I'm a bridge. All right. Now it's a matter of accepting that, or fighting for something better. I deserve more, don't I? When does it stop being about everyone else, and when does it start to be about me? When is the time for me to shed the weight of everyone else and step out on my own, for myself? Would it be now? Am I back at square one? Let go and move on?

Let go and move on. Okay. Here goes nothing (or everything).

(SO HARD TO) SEE MYSELF WITHOUT

It has been eight months since I last sat down in front of a computer screen and wondered 'what do I have to say'? Never mind just in front of a computer screen, but in every aspect of my life. I slowly began to emotionally shut down. My opinions are being kept to myself, that protective casing has formed around me and I've been waiting for the storm to blow over. Little did I realize that the storm was a slow moving one, and one I realized I wasn't fully prepared for. While I was trying to ready myself, get my defenses going, I ended up shedding a skin somewhere along the way and now, I'm left more exposed then I originally intended.

A lot has changed in eight months. Some good, some bad. Can't have one without the other, right? Or at least, that is what we've been groomed to believe. If we believe at all. What are we suppose to believe in? God? A higher power? Our friends? Family? Business partners? What about ourselves? I use to say that I had faith in myself, I only needed to believe in myself - but when that option is taken away, where am I suppose to turn? I've been bred to rely on myself for my own happiness, and I've done just that for a good portion of my life. Luckily, that was aided by the fact that I've never been alone. In my head, maybe, but physically? Never. Why? I was graced with a twin. I've never had to exist without her, and even if for some reason we aren't spending our lives together as we have for nearly twenty six years, I find peace in knowing that she still exists. We were brought into this world together, even if we don't depart it together, we'll always be together. She is the better part of me, really, even if she's impatient, irrational and has anger issues, her flaws are my strengths, as mine, I'd like to think, are hers. We exist together, even when we try to create our own individuals amongst each other. Because of her, I know that in this big, strange, scary universe, I'm never alone.

I'm never alone. I fight for the quiet time I need, and though everyone in my life who cares about me, tends to fight me along the way, I am granted that freedom from time to time. I fight for a lot of things. I've always fought for myself. For my sister. For my father. I fight, too much. I fight at work, to get what I want, what I deserve. I fight for my sanity. I fight for my writing, my creative ability to do something better with this world. I fight everyone, and no one at the same time. Most importantly, I fight myself. In the last few months, I've grown tired of fighting. When November finally arrived, I felt like my eyes were wide open for the first time. I was fighting all this time to become myself, to be the writer I knew I could be, the wonderful person I know I am, the once in a lifetime epic friend I've proven myself to be. So much fighting, with nothing to show for it. My relationships were becoming one sided, I was being lost in the crowd, drowning in everyone else's wants, or needs. I was finally putting others before me, which felt great. Until I disappeared. Take away the title of 'aspiring writer' and what am I left with? A plus size, one perfectly kept, shell of a woman. I gave everything I could to several people in my life and what did I get in return? Nothing. I'm not saying I needed praise, or thanks, appreciation - any of that. I needed, above all, recognition. I needed someone to offer me their hand because they wanted to hold my hand for the right reasons, and not for their own selfish ones.

All of that leads me to right now. What is happening right now? I'm letting go, something I've never been good at. I understand that things happen for a reason, if they are meant to be, they'll develop on their own. Friendships, happiness, love, it all needs to happen on its own. So I've let go of wanting to be a writer. If whatever 'talent' I have is meant to be shared with the world, it will. I'm not fighting for that creative desire to strike me again, I'm letting it go. As for friendships? I'm not fighting for them anymore. I've lost my strength to continue holding on, and being the only one to do so. As it's been said, 'I'm wiping my hands clean'. I'm letting go. What's done, is done and it's time to move on. The past is nothing more than the past. Time to chalk it up to lessons learned, face value is all it is now.

And what about happiness and love, you're wondering? Well, they are two peas in a pod. If you don't love yourself, you won't ever be happy. With that said, I'll speak for myself now. I know that I will love myself, truly love myself, again one day. When that happens? I'll break that protective casing around me and I'll pull my head from the sand.

Hopefully some day soon, I'll be able to return to this blog with that unquestionable fire, that passion I once had burning inside of me. Until then? I am what I am. If you don't like it? I won't apologize any longer for the current state I'm in, or who I am right in this moment. It's all or nothing, now.

MY HANDS ARE TIED (AND MY TIME IS WASTED)

In true slacker fashion, I've been MIA from this blog for nearly two months. This shouldn't come as a shock to anyone. A lot has happened in such a short amount of time, and naturally all of them have had funny fat kid stories tied into them - such as bathing suit shopping, eating way too much ice cream, jeans that stretch (love them!) and all that good stuff. With the month of May came rain, and the month of June we've gotten a good amount of sunshine. Finally we've reached good weather here in Massachusetts and I couldn't be happier about it! It's hard to not be happy when the sun is shining and the breeze is warm. Unless of course it reaches over 90 degrees like it did yesterday and it's hard to breathe. I love days like that, but only if I've got ice water and crankin' AC.

Anyway, back on track! I've had this draft sitting in this blog for a while, I kept trying to give myself a reason to keep posting and putting my opinions out there for the world to see and finally, (finally!) I found a reason to return here. And with a vengeance, too.

Did anyone watch the premiere of HUGE last night on ABC Family? Before I explain my feelings about the show, I want everyone to know that I'm generally not a fan of ABC Family shows but because I absolutely adore Nikki Blonsky (from Hairspray!) I figured I would give the show a chance. I should have known that watching a show about overweight teens/young adults at a Fat Camp was going to piss me off. I also should have expected the stereotypes and cliche's, but yet again I tried to keep an open mind about the entire show. Well, I can say in all honesty that by the time the first commercial hit, I was growing agitated. The opening credits alone gave me a reason to snarl in a bitter, fat kid kind of way. Why, you ask? In big bold letter there was a section that read "WHO AM I? FAT."

Now, take a second and look that over. "WHO AM I? FAT." You're kidding me, right? Since when does a statement like that offer positive feedback to anyone - even more so - when did what you are become who you are. I'm a brunette at the moment, and sure, I can say "Who am I? I'm a brunette." but by doing so I would only be commenting on my physical appearance because anyone who knows me (and ya'll can comment to back me up on this..) well enough knows that my mentality is blonde. Hm. Is that considered false advertising, then? No. Just because I look a certain way, that doesn't give anyone the right to assume that the look is who I am. Or all that I am. Sure, it's a part of me, but it's not entirely me. To prove my point even further, I'm fat and I'm a brunette. Will I always look this way? Most likely not. Tomorrow I could have purple hair - who would I be then? Am I not the same person I was as a brunette, or will you define me by what appears to be the most constant factor in my existance; my weight? Does weight hold such a significant part of who we are as fat kids that trying to define ourselves as anything more is simply a waste of time? Especially if it's said in such a derogatory way, will that lead to the belief that fat people aren't good people, or are worthless, pathetic slob?

Which leads me to my next subject. Stereotypes. We all deal with stereotypes, all the time. People jump to conclusions, assume things, define people through a snap judgement. It happens. I understand that, because sadly, I do the very same. As much as I am consciously aware of it and I continue to work on no longer doing so, it's a fact. I always do my best to not assume the worst about a person without them doing something to provoke such a response and I try to let the person mold my judgement for them. With that being said, I tend to look at individual cases, much like I am trying to suggest now. The stereotypes in the premiere of HUGE were so extreme, I found myself cringing. A lot.

Let's all focus for a moment. Why was I cringing, exactly? Well, because Nikki Blonsky's character was sent to fat camp, and was bitter about such, she snuck candy into camp. Okay, fine. I can accept that theory, as I'm sure it's bound to happen at one point or another. But I'm pretty sure not every fat kid in the camp is smuggling goods into the camp limits. Not to mention, as a fat kid, I've got plenty of fat friends. I network. It happens. Moving on. Out of all these fat friends of mine, I've never once seen anyone hide candy in shampoo bottles as a method of feeding and hiding an addiction to food/candy. Never, ever. Have I just lucked out and maybe I've never been given the chance yet? Wait, does that mean maybe I should check my friends shampoo bottles next time I go to their house, to make sure they aren't smuggling something. Is there so secret fat kid society I'm missing out on? Do all overweight people act this way and simply hide it from the world, and from me? Am I really so terrible at being a fat kid that I can't even share the same mentality? Not everyone who is overweight has a food addiction. Not all of us binge eat, not all of us sleep with Snickers' bars under our pillow cases. Some of us are fat simply because we are fat. Look, I'm not saying that I'm an exception to this 'rule', because I'm not. For example? It's 7:15am, and I'm currently drinking a coke with a hand full of cheezits. Sure, I could be drinking water while eating an apple. I could be, but I'm not. And I chose not to. My reasons are my reasons and it's all my choice. Does that make me a fat kid who deserves to be stereotyped with the others who are apparently into smuggling candy? I don't think so. Do you disagree? I'd like to know why you disagree, if you do.

Well, I've written up a list of about 11 more topics that spawned from the show last night and I plan on addressing them all very soon. However, seeing as it's been a while since I've blogged, I figure I should reintroduce you to my obnoxiousness in small, very small doses. So, keeping that fact in mind, I am ending this blog post.

I'll be back, don't you worry.

(WON'T YOU KISS) ME WHEN YOU COME HOME?

Hello, hello!

It's been some time since I lasted posted, we all know I'm both lazy and forgetful so let's not harp on my flaws and let's focus on something positive! This past weekend I gathered together my sister, plus two of our best friends and basically forced them to do a 'photoshoot'. One thing ya'll should know about me is that I am very vain. I love taking a ton of photos, being center of attention, etc. It's all in a day's work, really.

Now, before I continue, I have to explain something to ya'll. We all fully aware that yes, I am a fat girl who has ridiculously high amount of self esteem. It's an oxymoron in a way because all of my hot skinny kid friends seem to have self esteem issues that are not up to par. Which leads me to CJ, who is who you'll see in the pictures I've posted below. CJ is gorgeous. There are no questions about that. However, she's just another one of my blissfully blind friends, because she doesn't quite understand the magnitude of her beauty. I absolutely hate that. It's a character flaw in nearly all of my friends. Irony at it's best, really; skinny kid with no confidence is best friends with a fat kid who has too much confidence. It genuinely should beg the question, 'What the hell?'.

I wanted to give CJ a few hours to just feel good about herself. We went shopping, came home and got straight to work on doing her hair and makeup. Ash and Jill worked on the photo shoot design set up while I spent far too much time trying to curl CJ's hair - all the while we were laughing and having a great time. That alone, being together with friends and simply enjoying each other's company is satisfying enough.

We spent a few hours fawning over how gorgeous CJ is, while bending and positioning her in a thousand different, incredibly uncomfortable and awkward positions. I wish you could understand the degree of hotness that is CJ, but sadly, her photos were a bit too risque to post so openly to the world - so, just take my word for it. Once we took a break for lunch, it was my turn to get ready for the few photos we were going to take together. I wanted the hot skinny girl and the hot fat girl together just to show that beauty comes in every different shape and size possible. In the end, the goofy photos of CJ and I together are my favorite few from the hundreds of photos taken on Saturday.

Shortly after, CJ had to depart and I took the extra camera time all for myself. I wanted something playful, and as much I would have loved a photoshoot outside in a pretty pink tree, it was raining and we made the best of the space we had. We stuck my chubby ass in the huge window in my bedroom, turned on MoZella's album 'Belle Isle' (which is amazing, btw, every women should own this album!) and let the magic happen. I decided I am definitely using one of the photos as a header for this blog, as soon as I have the time to sit down and make the picture extra pretty. I wanted to take photos that exposed my body, because no matter what name you call me - you can't call me a hypocrite. A girl who writes a blog about being fabulously fat who won't even show how fat she really is? C'mon guys, you know me better than this by now. So. Arms exposed, legs propped just right, it was game on. Feeling pretty is catchy, that's for sure. I was glowing on Saturday, even if about an hour after my pictures were done, I was in sweats, grocery shopping. Oh, the ups and downs of being as fabulous as I am. Anyway, here are the pictures! I hope you enjoy them as much as we do.

Well, it's that time again - time to start my Friday work day. I hope ya'll have a great weekend and ya know, put on that extra coat of lip gloss before you go out. Make up is your friend, it's suppose to enhance your beauty, so let it do it's job. I'm being a hypocrite though because I'm only wearing foundation. Don't worry, I've got my trusty chapstick and mascara in my purse. Once this work day goes by, I'll be enjoying an evening with my best friends. We're going to that non-fat kid friendly restaurant we went to a few weeks ago, you know the one, with the tiny booths? That's the one! Should be interesting, that's for sure. I'll let you know how it goes.

Cloudly skies today, but at least it's almost time for the weekend so I can catch up on my beauty rest.

Until next time, ya'll!

I'LL PLAY ALONG (EXPECT NO PROMISE)

Spring has sprung!

After New England was underwater for a few weeks (some parts still are suffering), the sun is out, the temperature is rising which causes two things; internal happiness and leaves! There are tiny little buds on the trees, grass is slowly returning, even the cherry blossom trees are in full swing. I've never been a fan of spring, except this year. With all the rain, snow, below freezing temperatures, I am more than ready for spring to get a move on. Yesterday my area reached high 80s and I spent the entire day staring wistfully out the large windows of my office building. I decided that when the time comes, I will keep a kite in my trunk and yes, I will fly it outside in the parking lot. Especially if it'll help elevate stress and put a smile on my face. A half hour of bliss is totally worth the remaining stress of the work day, right?

With spring comes one major thing. Prom. Even though I'm twenty five now, prom is every where. Prom specials, limo specials, don't drink and drive signs, etc. There is chatter among the women at work about their children who are preparing for prom, which makes me smile. We all know I love a good excuse to buy a pretty dress and get my hair done. One of the women had expressed how her plus size daughter was having trouble finding dresses the fit her properly, she asked if I had any suggestions. I immediately listed a few shops and mentioned that I still have my dresses. If there is one memory I have from prom, it's how difficult it was to dress shop. Finding a dress you like is one thing, finding it in your size and price budget is another. I volunteered to bring her my dresses, as well as Jill and Ash's, since I know we've all got them, sitting around, collecting dust. I brought them into work today for her to bring to her daughter and everyone is fawning. I love the way a simple gesture can create positive feedback. I'll feel like a good deed has been done if she does in fact take one of the dresses. If she doesn't, I'll probably convince the girls to donate their dresses along with mine, to a consignment shop.

Since I know there is always the continous struggle of shopping for plus size girls/women, I decided to post up a few links to my personal favorite places. One place that I absolutely always tell people to go is Party Dress Express. It's not a huge shop, but the employees are super friendly and always helpful. They are patient, too, trust me. We all bought dresses from there at some point. Also, let's not forget the super popular option David's Bridal. They mostly focus on wedding dresses but really, what girl doesn't want a gorgeous white dress? My sister found a beautiful champagne and white colored dress from there that she wore to our Senior Prom. She still swoons over it to this day. There is also another local store in the mall that now offers a good selection of plus size dresses, called Deb. When I was younger, they hadn't embraced plus sizes the way they have now, so I wasn't able to stop there to find a super trendy prom dress.

Now, smart plus size shoppers almost always look for stuff online. We all do it. So, I decided to save everyone the trouble and pick out a few decent options. One site called Prom Girl has a ton of cute options, I swooned over a strapless purple gown, made me wish I was young enough to sneak back into prom just so I could wear it. I also found a shop called Cinderella's Gowns which had some really cute, flattering and really fun dresses. I forgot that bright colors and short dresses were the style these days. I disagree. Prom is suppose to be glamorous and over the top - do not let anyone buy a short dress to wear to prom! Now, google provided some not so great suggestions, but I'll be honest, I found this one website Sydney's Closet and I nearly fell off my chair. The signature collection was breath taking, especially the Bewitching gown. I just wish it wasn't green. Either way, it's beautiful and I suggest looking there first.

All I can say now is that I've given you my favorite dress shops, feel free to browse. If you're going to order online, I always suggest ordering one size bigger - have it taken in. Oh, and order a head of time. Dresses will sell out and sometimes you just don't like them - you want plenty of time to send stuff back and collect your refund while you're still searching for the right dress.

Now I'm in the mood to buy a dress. Hmph, maybe I'll dig out one of my cotton dresses and wear it tomorrow. Or not, because apparently spring plans to leave us tomorrow, as we're forecasted to be rained upon, with temperatures in the 50s. New England, you and I are breaking up.

Until next time!

(SOME DAY WE'LL) WALK ON STREETS OF GOLD!

This constant rain is annoying. And frustrating.

However, it seems to be the perfect surrounding environment for a slight head cold and a terrible Tuesday. I know, it's not even 8am and I'm being negative. But ask yourself a question before you judge me - when have you ever liked a Tuesday? It's the second worst day of the week, since it follows Monday. You let me know if you actually enjoy a Tuesday and I'll eat my words. Hey, fat kids eat anything, right?

Moving along, as rain drops the size of small children streak down the windows I find myself immediately regretting coming into work today. When you're in bed, in the warmth and comfort of your little shell, the outside world hardly exists, hell, it hardly even matters. It's only when you go away from that comfort zone are you faced with the ridiculousness that is this weather which has nearly all of Massachusetts in a State of Emergency, OBama is even saying we're a disaster zone. How will anyone take us seriously we if declare the Cape a disaster zone? Last I checked, we weren't bowled over by a tsunami and we're hardly suffering from a hurricane. So, on that note, go back to the State of Emergency, give everyone the funding they need and stop trying to make such a media plea. What're we, the state that cried wolf?

Onto the actual point of this blog, the life of a fat kid. I have a slight story to tell. I promised myself this past friday that my next blog post would be about fat kids in tiny booths. Now, before you laugh, really think about this. When you're a hostess at a restaurant and three overweight (but fabulous!) women walk in, you know you judge us. You're sizing us up, maybe you even like my purse (which, I'm sure she did!) but you're also thinking of what table you're going to seat us at. Immediately to your left is a section slightly packed with large booths (could easily seat six skinny kids, four fat kids) and tables, with movable chairs. Behind you, the salad bar, just past that, the worst section in the restaurant. It's the section where the booths are so small, it's mean to be private dining for two people or maybe, if you're lucky, four skinny kids. Autotmatically, while you're estimating the size of my waist line, a red flag should have went up. Do not sit the fat kids in the tiny kid section. They make large booths for a reason, for this reason specifically. So, at that point, feel free to tell us to wait while a table is clearing out. However, that wasn't what our hostess did. She brought us over to the skinny kid section and as she watched three fats way the pros and cons of the current obstacle we faced, she told us to enjoy our meal. I slid in first, because it's rule of thumb that the one who can be squished, should. So. Ash gets her side of the table all to herself, while Jill squeezes in with me. Keyword here is squeezed. I wanted to grab that hostess by her ponytail and drag her back to our section and ask her how I'm suppose to enjoy my meal when I can't even breathe. Can't swallow food if you can't even breathe, oh, but let's not get ahead of ourselves - you need elbow room so you can cut your food, drink your drink, even lift your fork from your plate to your mouth. Maybe I came to the restaurant just to look at the food, smell it even.

If most of the country is overweight these days, why hasn't anyone actually embraced this population and tweaked it to their advantage. Don't ask me, because I'm baffled. You would think that restaurants want business, whether it be from a skinny kid or a fat kid, they want you to come in and enjoy their menus. Well. Word from the wise, if you want us to come in, take our time, stay a while, maybe drink some of your mouth watering mojitos, you should focus on making our stay there totally enjoyable. If I'm squished in a booth, my goal will be to eat my food and get the hell out of there before I not only burst a button from my jeans, I may also crack the table from the pressure of it. I'm not going to sit around, suffocating, in a booth that's ridiculously uncomfortable. I am going to leave. However, had you placed me in a nice large booth, with room to breathe, maybe even sit comfortably, I would have stayed a while, chatted, maybe even bought one too many of those gorgeous latte's your offer. If restaurants made their settings more fat kid friendly, we would all be more inclined to stick around and enjoy the evening instead of pay the check, run outside and fall to the ground gasping for oxygen. OKay, I'm being dramatic. You get the point though, don't you? Common knowledge. We were taught this lesson when we were in preschool. The square block will not fit through the round slot, just like a fat kid will not fit into a tiny booth. Hell, don't stick a fat kid in any small spaces, at least not unless they ask - and if they do, I suggest you run away very quickly.

With that being said, I wanted to share something I discovered the other day. As most of you know my sister and I have recently moved into our new apartment and we're still settling in, we're both on a hunt for bedsets we both like. Which, is a nearly impossible task. Well, my mother subscribes to every magazine humanly possible and she gave me one called Brylane Home. I flipped through it only quickly, when something on the front cover caught my attention. Plus-size living at Brylane Home. Ah, darling magazine, you've caught my attention. Jill and I began flipping through the section and this is what we found:

That monster is called the Hong Kong chair. It's the perfect tailgating chair for the large-than-average back ends that enjoy, too. The chair supports up to 800 pounds! 800! That's pretty amazing, considering all the chairs I found last summer while I was searching for tailgate chairs that were fat kid friendly barely supported over 300 lbs. The price is a bit steep, as it's listed at $99.99 but honestly, it's reallllly worth the price. 800 lbs. Do I need to keep repeating this? Besides that detail, it looks pretty damn comfortable, too. I decided to read through the buyer comments just to get a feel for if the product lived up to all the height, and this one comment made me laugh out loud.

"WE ALL KNOW THAT A LOT OF PLACES ARE NOT FIT FOR OVERWEIGHT PEOPLE, SO I CARRY MY CHAIR EVERYWHERE I GO JUST IN CASE THEY DON'T HAVE A DECENT CHAIR TO SIT IN." - a woman from Florida posted.

Well shit, doesn't that fit the theme of this post rather perfectly? Ah, sometimes it feels so good to be right. Hope ya'll enjoyed my little rant, as it's now time to go to work.

Yep, Tuesday, I'm pretty sure we're breaking up. Until next time, ya'll.

ALL YOUR SUNSHINE MAKES (my flowers bloom!)

Good morning to the select few readers of mine out there! (Ash, Jacqui, Amber...)

I'm noticing a trend here - posting on a Friday. Don't know how that developed, but I guess it's good, in a way. It allows me the chance to recap the entire week, put things into perspective then maybe something productive will happen. Or not. I'm not feeling very productive today.

I wasn't going to blog at all until the weekend, give myself another chance for something interesting to happen in this life I lead as a fat kid, but after visiting OldNavy.com this morning, my feelings about such have changed. If you live under a rock, you wouldn't know that Old Navy is doing a model search, they are looking for people to make themselves over into "Super Modelquins". The winner will get to become the new model and win a cash prize. I figured I would do it just for fun, I was at least curiouse to see what I'd look like in plastic form. Well, to my unpleasant surprise, they don't offer modelquins in plus sizes. It shouldn't have shocked me the way it did but considering almost my entire waredrobe is from Old Navy, I wasn't a happy camper. How am I suppose to Super Modelquin myself if you don't even offer an XL size model to work with? Really?

Just once I'd like for ONE company besides Torrid (who is a bit too 'goth' for my liking, and not to mention really expensive..) to embrace the plus size community. It's moments like that which make me regret never going to design school - not like I have the ability to sew, but the sentiment is there. I would like at least one company, as popular as Old Navy to just branch out a little. They offer a wide variety of sizes in their store, I believe from my own personal experience I've seen up to a size 20 - and their website is even better, they offer up to a size 30. Now, as plus size standards go, that's pretty freakin' awesome. I'm pratically an Old Navy advocate, normally. I always tell everyone to shop there, regardless of style, because you're bound to find at least one thing you like, and it'll fit properly. Their jeans are the only jeans I'll wear. They are perfection. I've even (after many years of trying) convinced my sister and best friend to start wearing them. They have, and both are happy with them. 3 out of 3 plus size women under the age of 25 all agree that Old Navy jeans are amazing. So, fat kids, take the hint. Oh, if anyone is curious, here's the Super Modelquin I came up with for myself:

Moving on! I've decided to carry around a tiny notebook with me from here on out because as we've all learned by now, I have a terrible memory and usually there is always something happening where I go "Oh! That'd be perfect to blog about", such as my trip to a Chinese buffet a few weeks back (maybe two now, Ash, confirm/deny?) where the girls and I discussed my issues with going up to the buffet line more than once. Sounds a bit hyprocritical, doesn't it? The fat kid activist doesn't like going up to the buffet line more than once. As laughable as it is, it's very much true. I always stack my plate full (it's the one time I really don't mind my food touching!) and then casually ask the next person who moves to go back to the line to grab me a little something. This past trip to lunch, when Ash and Jill both went up to get other items, they finally called me out on my inability to shove my empty plate aside and rejoin the hungry. It got the wheels turning in my brain and I finally realized why I'm not so eager to do it. I don't like looking like the typical fat kid. Yes, I know, again, I sound hypocritical. Just hear me out for a moment before you judge me. I've worked so hard to carry myself well regardless of my weight, I've shaken my fat ass a few too many times at a local club with no quams, but for some reason, I can't go back for more food at a buffet line. Why? Every time I go into a buffet, I always feel like all eyes are on me. What am I going to get? Wow, that fat girl must really be hungry if she's at a buffet. I tend to keep my head down or pretend to distract myself on my cell phone, something, anything to keep me from making eye contact with anyone who might be looking at me.

A buffet line should be the one place no one gets judged. We're all hungry, which is exactly why we're at the buffet, so we can eat a ton of food for one low price. Some people probably even shove a few pastry dishes in their purses before they run out. I've seen it happen. And usually when that does happen, I tend to judge them. Why? Because everyone judges everyone, regardless of where they are or what the situation is. It doesn't matter if I say I like someone's hair, or hate someone's shoes, it's all wrapped up in the mind set of being judgemental. So, that day at lunch I decided next time I go to the buffet, just for my own sake, I'll get up again, take a nice long stroll around the buffet tables, and really settle on what I want. How much I want to eat, what I'm willing to have one, twice, maybe three times (I'm a rebel, I know!), it'll be what I want, what will make me happy, and it won't be based upon what someone is going to think when I walk past them with three pieces of pizza on my plate. Besides, what I eat shouldn't effect anyone but me. It's going into my body, it's my waist line that will be explanding. No one else's. Me, myself and I. Numero uno.

That's what being larger than life is all about, after all. Being who are you, embracing what you've got and never letting anyone hold you down. So, audience at the next buffet line I cross, I hope you're ready for a show.

I've had enough of myself for one day, as I'm sure you have as well, so this blog is complete. Enjoy your weekend, I know I will! Potential kite flying weather is approaching, and I'm excited. Woo hoo!!

JUST YOU (and I)

Wow, it's been over a week since I've blogged. I'm already slacking, who is shocked? Not me! I've had people ask me when I was going to blog next, so here it is. It's not really a power to the fat girl type blog today, it's just going to be garbled mess of things going on in my mind lately. If it's boring, I apologize in advance.

Last night I did my normal Thursday night routine, watched Grey's Anatomy and Private Pratice. Though I was tired from fighting off a migraine (having called out of work and over sleeping most of the day) I kept my eyes open long enoough to make it through three hours of television. Regardless of how off I felt, I was still able to notice one particular storyline in Private Pratice. A couple met through the internet, they fell madly in love with one another. She was big, blonde and beautiful (this makes me think of Hairspray and yes, I giggle a little because of it) while the man was sweet, and skinny. The couple was odd to me, because I've never quite been able to wrap my head around the concept of the bigger girl who scores the skinny guy. Yes it's a dream we all have, to find that one who accepts us for who we are, makes us feel all warm, fuzzy and beautiful, and normally on our end we don't care so much about their appearance. As bigger women, we generally consider being plus size a flaw, so most of us are less judgemental about who woos us, at least on the physical side. I'm a crap shoot though, when it comes to this issue. I want that attraction. I want that little tiny spark to be there in the pit of my stomach when I lay eyes on someone, when I think about holding their hand or sharing a first kiss. That spark needs to be there, no matter how big or small it is. It just needs to be present. However, on the other end of the spectrum, I notice that even though someone I'm connected to many not be the most attractive person to me, their personality is wonderful. That personality out shines all the rest, and if a connection is made emotionally, then the attraction will come naturally as time goes on. That's how it's always been for me. Now, as time is going by, I'm wondering if that's considered settling. Do plus size women settle? Do we find the first available person who wants us, latch on and stay with them because they give us what every women needs? Partnered but never quite whole; settling. Then again, what if it's just me? Maybe I'm wired differently. What if being with someone because they adore you isn't settling, it's smart. Is it really settling when someone can you give the world, treat you the way you deserve to be treated, take care of you, support you.

I've never settled for anything, ever. I'm talking bigger picture here, not what restaurant we're all going to for dinner on Friday night, but the important things. My entire life I've wanted the world to think I was pretty, cute, beautiful. I've always heard, "You have such a pretty face". I hate that saying. My face isn't the only part of me that is pretty. My heart and soul is just as pretty, and I've struggled to make it so. Because of that, I've realized that I've never really needed a man to make me feel beautiful. I don't need anyone but myself to make feel whole, or happy. The only person who needs to make me happy is myself. The only person who needs to make me feel beautiful is myself. Same goes for the people in my life. My best friends, my family. I'm beautiful for myself because I'm beautiful to them, as well. They know me, really know me. They see me, flaws and all, yet they still know that I'm a good person, so if I don't wear make up one day, or don't pluck my eyebrows for a week, it doesn't change how they view me. They still love me, regardless if my hair is brushed or my waist is a size 24 or a size 12 (not that it's ever been a 12, but let's not get off track here.) Because of that gift I've been given by the wonderful people in my life, am I getting greedy by not needing a partner to make me feel beautiful? Have I gotten so much love and support by my friends and family that there is no need for anyone else in the world to see me as beautiful? I've met the alotted amount of beauty that it's all I need, ever? And if that is the case, will that essentially result in settling in the end? Being with someone just to be with someone, not because they make me feel beautiful, but because that's the path we're all suppose to be on? Finish school, get a good job, fall in love, get married, have babies and in the end, call that a good life. Am I wired so differently that I don't consider any of that a requirememnt for me? Maybe I'm selfish. That must be it. Or, maybe I already am settled. Who needs to fall in love, get married, create a life when it's so restricting, where I might lose the person I've fought so hard to become. I'm content. I'm whole, and I'm happy. Do I need anyone else, anything else? Is that considered lucky or crazy?

What about those who cannot be content, whole or happy without a partner? What makes them so different that we can't see eye to eye on this subject? Why aren't they able to see themselves for the beautiful being they are, and just be satisfied with that? Why must they require the attention (or approval!) of a man (or woman) to make themselves feel beautiful, complete? Do they not have the confidence, or the belief in themselves to allow them to feel such a way? What do I have that they are missing? Or what is they have that maybe I'm missing? Just because they are not the standard of what America considers beautiful (since when should we care what "America" thinks?) or because they aren't the weight they are 'suppose' to be, are they not worth the love and affection they truly deserve? And if that's the case, what can be done to get them the love and affection they desire without putting them in emotionally unbalanced situation. Can friendship, mutual love and respect bridge that gap or will they never quite get to that level of comfort within themselves until they've found that one person who forces them to recognize their own beauty, finally?

Since when do we really have to care what anyone in this world thinks besides those most important to us? If I'm shopping in a skinny kid store, do I have to worry that the woman behind the counter might think I'm too fat to be shopping here? Nope. Why not? Because her opinion of me doesn't matter. What she thinks won't effect who I am at the end of that day. And that, my friends, is that.

I've gotten distracted now, and with Jim Brickman playing on Pandora, I'm now way to zen to continue yapping on and on about seemingly pointless stuff. So, I hope ya'll enjoy your Friday, I know I'm not the only perso who appreciates the beauty of the start of the weekend!

WE'VE ALL BEEN WARNED (but still chose to stay)

Monday afternoon, once again! Today is my least favorite day of the week, especially after this weekend.

Saturday was moving day, and let me tell you, after hours of heavy lifting (no pun intended!) I've come to terms with the fact that not only am I weakling, but I have no desire to move ever again. OKay so I'm being a little dramatic - if another move is in my future, you can be sure I'll splurge on professional movers, at least. I wasn't nearly as stressed out as I thought I'd be, considering my twin sister Jill has the flu and my main mover has pneumonia, I was pretty sure I'd be stuck between a rock and a hard place. Little did I know that the love of my life (Donny!) would pull through, along with the aid of his fiance's (Sarah!) father's truck, and we'd work together to move everything in just a day. It took us quite a few trips, and definitely wasn't easy. For starters? I don't think I've ever injured myself more in my entire 25 years on this earth than I did on Saturday. I busted up my knuckles on one hand while breaking ice off a carpet for my mother, crushed a knuckle on my other hand between a dresser and a wall (it was purple and swollen for a few hours, but it's now doing fine!), gave myself a fat lip when my face broke the fall off several wooden slats (thanks Ikea..), later on that evening I was helping my mom and due to my serious inability to see in the dark, I slammed my jaw into the roof of my mom's car. Oh, and I shouldn't forget how yesterday while Ash and I were attempting to put my bed together, I accidentally grabbed a light bulb and burned myself. Loving that tiny little battle wound, that's for sure. All of that doesn't seem too bad when I look back upon last night's adventure of trying to get the washer and dryer hooked up; Jill electrocuted herself. Now, we all know that hurts. However, she took quite a zap (and even though it's not funny, I still can't help but giggle) and her hand swelled up from the incident. I have to think fried veins hurt more than fried finger tips. That's one question I don't think I want to know the answer to.

I told myself I would photoshoot during the move this weekend so I could document everything but I was so determined (or scatterbrained) to get the job done, I left my cell phone at home. Which, now that I think back - I'm glad I didn't document my moving adventure because let's face it - fat kids in small spaces are only funny to the skinny kids who point and laugh. Thankfully I'm so comfortable with Donny that it didn't matter to me when he squished me between the couch and the railing of the staircase because all I had to do was shout that the wood just might be cracking beneath the force of my backside and he quickly came to my aid. He was definitely a trooper, that's for sure. I guess eleven years worth of friendship really means something when you can save one another from being crushed by furniture.

The only downfall to all that happened this weekend is that it reminded me how out of shape I am. Yes, we all know the typical story of how overweight people aren't active, or healthy, etc. Listen, save the health article for someone who cares. I'm just as active as the next person, but when it comes to the winter time, I'm like a bear. I hibernate. It happens. However, the fact that every muscle in my body aches is a serious reminder of how desparately I want the spring to get here. I miss going outside and just...doing something, anything! I especially love the thought of going kite flying. Oh, it's been far to long since I've gone kite flying. Wow, getting off track again. My fat kid lesson of the weekend is to stay active. I hate hearing about needing to be thinner and healthier just as much as the next person, but when it comes to strenous activity like that - it's a miracle I didn't injure myself (or anyone else, for that matter) worse than I did. Even if you're not a fan of being active, maybe take a walk around the block once or twice a week, go roller blading (fat kid on blades, woohoo!) or even walk the dog. And I say that just as a suggestion because what ya'll don't know is one, I don't have a dog, two, roller blades and I don't get along, and three, if I were to take a walk around my block I probably wouldn't make it back without some sort of gunshot wound. Okay, okay, kidding. Only partially. My only point is that we can all be fat and fabulous if we want but when the time comes to move a couch I hope you aren't expecting to lift that shit like superman and feel the burn in a good way. That, my dear readers, will not happen.

Anyway, here are some pictures to ease the sting of strained muscles and bruised egos:

I'll take more pictures as the apartment develops, since we've only been in the place for two days - not much work has been done. Rest easy, ha. Anyway, the fabulous one is done for the day! Stay fabulous, duhh.

P.S - Don't hate on the HSM bathroom set. We have two bathrooms and it's only up until I can decide on what set I actually want in that room. And c'mon, who doesn't love HSM?! ;)