(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!