Wednesday, May 30, 2007


Okay I'm at work and unable to go play outside so I'm going to talk fashion.

I am still in serious want of some dresses. I used to wear dresses all the time and I'm not sure when i stopped. So links and if anyone wants to buy me one I would not say no. More skirts too I love skirts.

I think this dress from a Torrid auction on Ebay is adorable. Not sure it would fit the boobies but I have been known to squash the girls for some cute clothing.

Skull Skirt. So cute, from the same seller. I need monies.

Black floral pleated skirt. So fucking cute.

Slightly floofy net skirt. Cuteness. How adorable?

Can I just say how much I'm hating Old Navy right now? See I really want this dress however, I really seriously need to try it on. My D cups demand it but, since they apparently "can't make money" on the plus line in stores. Read that as too lazy/whatever to market it properly to big girls that has cash, I can't try on the dress.

Now can we talk about fabrics and cuts?

The way my body is built short torso, big boobies big hips. The natural waist is way up just under my ribs. I tend to not like wearing anything up that high because it gets painful. I also tend to stick to stretchy knits.

For skirts I usually wear them low on the hips. Which also means I can usually fudge the sizing on stretchy items. From a little small to a little big.

Unfortunately though I have not been able to do sizing fu on Torrid items which sucks. Their 14's are just way too big and it makes me cranky because I have some really nice stuff I'm going to have to take in.

Ok I think I'm done clothes lusting.

Homo Out.


An homage to my boobies.

Ir's really beautiful out today and it makes me very happy. I am wearing a new favorite summer outfit.

Satin ballet flats, black bright pink and white diagonal striped asymetrical hem skirt (that I have owned for over a year and a half but not worn for some reason) and my black under wire cami from Torrid.

An almost entirely thrifted outfit that is comfy and makes me feel cute.

Also I have very tasty Vietnamese take out to nibble on. Barbecued pork, spring rolls and noodles. Tasty.

I discovered this morning while buzzing my legs with the clippers this morning I noticed that hair does not grow on the back sides of my calves.

How is it I just now noticed that?

Also how is it that after not shaving since fucking November I still only had some fuzz. My lack of fur is disappointing. Seriously. If I'm not going to shave for half a year I'd like something to show for it. It makes me grumpy.

And no, before anyone asks the not shaving is absolutely not a political thing. It's very simple. I'm lazy and have very sensitive skin that doesn't like razors near it.

I have a gigantic Bosch pear sitting right in front of my keyboard that looks fucking fantastic. I love pears.

Oh right I titled this an homage to my boobies. So now words of love dedicated to my boobies.

Oh my boobies,
So big and brown.
Soft and comfy.
Still pretty perky.
I know I call you names sometimes.
But I still love you.
D cups of joy.

Ok that's it.

I'm going to nibble on my pear and put some lotion on my ashy feet.

Homo out.


Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Madness I say..MADNESS.

Ok I have a really bad sugar headache right now. I have another banh mi to nibble on today and Mike bought me sweet tea.

Good lord I really need to slow my roll with that stuff my head is banging.

It probably doesn't help that I'm nibbling dark chocolate M&M's either does it?

I can't help it the two taste very good together.

Okay no more good lord.

Is it weird that I am a little obsessed (growing an obsession with anyhow) costuming of all sorts? I want shiny superhero outfits and lots of tulle. Lots and lots of tulle. Bring the fluff.

Not too much in the Shannon News today.

Except that I think I might start doing the yoga at night. I think that'll be easier since I am special when it comes to waking up early. See body, (note to body here feel free to disregard)I TOLD you I'm trying bitch now hold up your end.

In other news the headache is abating somewhat. Never underestimate the powers of chugging water.

I have to admit something. I freaking love Susan Powter. I like her because she's a little manic and a little potty mouthed. She's also very pretty. I've seen her (she lives in the neighborhood I work in) and she's so tiny I want to put her in my pocket.

Yes she looks fabulous. She has this whole woman love thing going on but I wonder sometimes does she really love women or just women that adhere to her philosophy? I would love to sit down with her and talk about the body.

Mostly I'd like to see what she has to say to people like me who have been super fit, toned cut what have you and were neither healthy nor happy. Also no amount of training ever made me a hardbody not for lack of trying and serious commitment.

to examine it now that I have some distance on the time and some perspective my body was just simply not meant to have Velvet Rope Era Miss Jackson type abs. I was not meant to be Linda Hamilton type ass kicking. I tried. I tried really hard. I ate what I was supposed to, didn't eat what was "bad" did the exercise and yeah. I got a 2 pack and for awhile it stuck.

However I did at some point decide that my frequent discomfort, the trips to the gym, the hours of pounding my body into submission were simply not worth it. I like the idea of fitness. I like the idea that I can walk forever, that I can stretch and dance and breathe but, I don't think I should have to suffer for it nor do I think it's a moral imperative.

One of the things I really tend to dislike about fitness/health gurus is that there is always this idea that you are bad if you don't do as they say and that there is no possible way you could be happy or healthy the way you are. Also they tend as a whole to disregard the idea that bodies, are as diverse as the population of the planet. Why is this reality anathema to these people?

Long before I ever heard of HAES I was mystified by the ideas I saw in a lot of self help.

I really far prefer what people like Dr. Peggy Elam has to say about health and well being. I'd rather do the following than a lot of other things I read:

12 Steps to Health At Every Size
by Peggy Elam, Ph.D.

1. Stop weighing yourself. Shift your focus from weight & body fat to healthy
behaviors & fitness.

2. Fire the food & body police.

3. Stop critical self-talk. Would you speak to a friend or loved one the way you do
to your body?

4. Increase positive talk. Talk to & treat yourself & your body the way you would a
cherished friend, loved one, or child.

5. Clean out your closets. Give or throw away everything that doesn’t fit, is
uncomfortable, or that you haven’t worn in years. Fill your closets with beautiful,
comfortable clothing in your present size.

6. Eat well & mindfully. Enjoy your food. Let nothing be off-limits. There are no
forbidden foods. Don’t restrict what you eat in order to lose weight, as those
behaviors and attitudes have negative physical and emotional consequences.
Focus instead on eating & living well.

7. Be active. Find, create, or discover activities that you enjoy, and engage in them

8. Listen to your body. It is the means by which your subconscious communicates
with you. No one can discern your body’s messages better than you can, although you may need to re-learn its language. Pay attention to “gut feelings.”

9. Respect your body. It is a manifestation of and a conduit for your soul. Ensure
that others respect it, too.

10. Reconnect mind & body. Increase your body awareness through yoga, walking
meditation, Tai Chi, Qi Gong, massage & bodywork, and/or movement therapy
(such as Feldenkrais). Focus on what your body can do and how good it can feel.

11. Address any emotional eating independent of weight change.

12. Invest in and support yourself rather than the weight loss, pharmaceutical,
healthcare, fashion or beauty industries.

Now it's no surprise information to hear that I love my fellow woman in more than an OH BOOBIES kind of way. I want women to be ok. Hell I want to be ok. The above sounds far more reasonable and healthy than any radical change in diet (Atkins, South Beach etc anyone?) or a lot of what I read abut self improvement.

I would rather be fat and feel good inside and out than be thin and miserable.

It's been a long time coming for me and I feel closer to wanting to be healed and whole and feeling ok about myself than I am to wanting to just look good.

I don't think it's maturity as much as it is regaining that "I don't give a fuckness" I used to carry with me once upon a time. I'd rather say fuck you than fuck me.

Granted I'm not entirely there. I still have the niggling (and not so niggling) feeling that some weight loss would do me good for reasons other than purely health. I'm working on it. It's rough but I'm dealing.

And I'm done. Time for music and internet wandering.

Homo Out.


Monday, May 28, 2007

Rope Bondage and other assorted things.

So I was just reading Monk's blog and a couple of entries down he has a hot little snippet of video tying up Violet Blue who as Ive said before I think is adorable and I have a bit of a girl crush on.

I'm slowly developing a more than curiosity about rope bondage. I've never really done a lot of it but I've had an aesthetic appreciation for it for years now. A lot of the fetish photography I like features rope bondage. Perhaps after a good bit of yoga practice I might volunteer for someone to tie me up.

I have to admit though being daunted by the fact that almost everyone I see/have seen practicing the sort of rope bondage I find most interesting tends to be very thin. Even as far as reading peoples preferences it's usually long and lithe which is a little scary.

And let's not even talk about some of the creepy feeder types. Actually no let's talk about that. When I was round 21 or so and probably the same size I am now or maybe a little bigger I met this guy who I thought was pretty damn cool.

Being that I was young and didn't know better his frequent mentions of his love of a big girl, his frequent gifts of rich tasty foods, lots of time spent rubbing on and loving my chub I had no idea what he was leading up to. At the time I just thought, hot DAMN actual dates as opposed to my usual dating style of, hey I like you lets hang out and screw.

After a time he started in with the feeder fantasies which I knew nothing about but bothered me. Forced feeding, wanting to pack another fifty or so pounds on me to make me "perfect". it was bad.

What creeped me out most was the idea of being fetishized like that. That is something that has always bothered me. Whether it's the "Oh I'm gonna do it with a BLACK GIRL" thing or love handle worshiper, whatever. That bothers me. I far prefer someone being all hot and bothered by the fact that I can mesmerize with a mile o chocolate cleavage AND verbally flay someone at the same time.

And please don't be fucking weird and creepy.

Be a little awkward that's fine.

Dig the chub? Hell yeah.

Dig the expanse of tasty brown flesh? Fabulous.

Just don't be fucking weird. Kthnks.

While fetishes are on my mind Anthony sugar I am emailing you after I hit publish.

Since I shared what I don't dig how about some stuff I do enjoy?

A perverse quick mind makes me moist.
I like boobies. All kinds of boobies I don't hate.
Booty. I dig the booty.
Mean looking women. I have a weakness.
Nerdy boys that like to do really dirty things.
Nerdy girls that like to do really dirty things.
Boot worshipers. I will talk about my love of wearing shiny vinyl boots and having them licked another time.
People that can talk dirty intelligently. 5$ words used in a filthy context makes me twitchy in my private area.
Hot boys in hot boots.
Girls who make me laugh while touching my boobs.

Ok that's enough.

No more you perverts.


Friday, May 25, 2007

Good Lord.

My body and I are getting along slightly better today. The relationship was bolstered by a tasty banh mi sammich from the Vietnamese market up the street, I had a bit of that, some very yummy fish of some sort, some noodles, a banana and Thai sweet tea.


Also lots o water and we are again on mostly speaking terms.

I am missing (you may see boobies clicking here)Thomas Roche reading because I still live in fucking Seattle. I think he would be a homie if I lived closer.

Anyway. It's goth night in the gay club up in here. WHen I say that I mean I'm listening to Darkwave and such at my desk. My desk is the gay club.

I'm talking super gay.

I'm talking like naked men wearing rainbow socks and sparkly silver boots.

Super. Gay.

Can you tell I really need to go to Pride or something? I need some homos. I miss my gay boyfriend Mikee.


In other news I watched the saucy new Marilyn Manson video. It's kinda like watching porn but not quite as good. However the faux(?) sex sequences were actually pretty hot. I have no idea who his girlfriend is (some young actress) but they make some pretty lovin together. I'd hit it. Both of them actually.

But then again I've harbored a latent desire to bend over Marilyn Manson for years now. Seriously he brings out the evil Leather Daddy in me. in a bad way.

However, he's not really the kind of boy I'd hurt on purpose. Ok well maybe a little but not bad.

Someone like that kid from H.I.M on the other hand I would fucking wreck. Seriously. His wee bum would never be the same.

Oh yeah if you're new I'm kind of a pervert. ANd sometimes I like to do evil things to boys. Kinda queer boys.

And I need to stop that before I get all twitchy in the pants area.

Actually no let's stay on the topic of the queer dirty things in my head.

I saw this butch I have a big of a crush on. It's the brush cut and hot glasses that do me in I swear. So today I see her walking by the bus stop downtown and she stops to say hi. Then proceeds to tell me how tasty i smell and that I look pretty today.

I am SUCH a sucker for a gentlemanly butch who likes to give compliments.

I am also a sucker for adorable babydykes.

The other day I saw this babydyke couple and they were just the cutest things ever. I wanted to put them in my purse and carry them around they were so cute. All smoochy and giggly and whatnot. SO freaking cute.

There is something about very young gay couples of whatever stripe that just makes me giggly and go 'awwwwwwwwwwwwww'. I like to see them frolicking in the streets. Like little gay lambs.

Oh my GOD did I just say little gay lambs?

Was that too gay?


I'm very tempted to want to get hoochified and go out this weekend. However my wardrobe for clubbing of any kind is sorta lacking. Woe is freaking me man.

Ok I'm about done here.

I'm going to drink water and ogle clothing.

Homo Out.


Thursday, May 24, 2007

My body politic and an open letter to my body

I want to talk about my body and politics.

First of all it's only been in the last few years that I've accepted that my body is in fact riddled with politics. I know I know. I really (for arguments sake say before the age of 26 or so) did not accept politics into the sphere of my physical body.

I did not want to hear it.

I don't know exactly what changed that. I think it might've been some of the absolutely evil conversations I've had with people about sex and sex work. That's for another day though.

Right now I just want to say I realize and own that my body is a vehicle for politics.

Now, right now to tell the truth I do not like my body at all. In fact if it were possible I would fucking beat it with a bat.


Because I don't fucking feel good. And I don't like that. My body is being defiant of my wishes and I'd like it to stop.

In case you haven't surmised yet I have a bit of an issue with dissociating from my body when I am unhappy with it. I am right there right now.

I am upset because while I'm chugging water and juice and tea and eating good I feel like shit.

So to help ease my mind and reconnect mind and body I am going to employ something I learned eons ago on a message board. I'm going to write a letter to my body.

Dear Body,
First let me say I'm sorry. I know drinking soda (about a 1 liter worth) in a 48 hour period really upset you. You hate soda, I get that. I'm sorry. And I'm also sorry for what I'm about to say.

You are pissing me the fuck off. I am trying really hard to to take good care of you but you are making it extremely difficult. What do you want?

Do you want yoga? I can deliver.

Can we come to terms about what we want to do here? I realize you're not a spring chicken anymore. I know. But you dor ealize we're only 30 here? Thirty years isn't a whole lot of time. So here's my proposal.

I will give you lots of water, fruit, vitamins and some protein in exchange for some sign you are doing better. I will give you yoga and cardio, you give me the high sign to shake the booty. You know you want to. Don't you? Don't you wanna be wrapped up in some sparkly shit and shake it like it's gonna break?

I know you do.

I feel them muscles quivering to dance. Don't lie you know you wanna.

Also bowels, I'm talking to you now. Can you not do that no pooping thing? Can constipation not be the first defense? Please?

Body, I know we've been through some rough times together. Remember that insane obsession with stadium stairs? Or running in general? Remember superflu 06? Didn't I stick by you through all of it? Come on now. We can work this out.

Just to show you how much I care how about tonight a full exfoliation and then some slathering in tasty smelling mango butter? A little pubic hair worship? Maybe even some leg shaving?

Think about it.

The Brain.

P.S Can someone talk to the reproductive system about the menstrual weirdness? Aren't we a little old for that shit?

Ok there you have it.

Granted it seems kind of crazy but I highly suggest people try it. ONline or off whatever suits you. I've been doing this off and on for years and I found it can have such a cathartic effect I am able to get through whatever emotional fuckery that's going on.

I think that's all for now. I am going to make some more tea and read poetry or somesuch.

Homo Out.


Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Genmaicha and glee.

I am sitting drinking a cup of very strong genmaicha tea. It's not the pricey super good stuff but it's tasty.

So I've been reading about all these Congress people doing the "food stamp challenge".

First I applaud them for trying. However, some of what I've read is absurd.

I appreciate what they were trying to do but let's be realistic. It just isn't the same when you know you'll get real food at the end of the week. I don't think a week is enough. They need a month and should be given a small child or two, no car and a minimum wage job.

Then try.

I'd like to see more of these people who have probably never been truly poor have to live it for more than a week. When I say live it I mean being a missed day of work away from eviction, or having to bounce a check to pay the rent and eat. Losing a job. Poverty is not just being economically on the edge. Poverty is about having no choices. Or rather, having only bad choices to make.

Poverty is deciding whether to eat ramen for a week or skip a bill payment. Poverty is deciding between cold medication and paying that weeks child care bill in full. Poverty is being 5 dollars away from 0 and payday is still a week away.

Poverty is being demoralized demonized and left in the lurch at every turn.

It's not just not getting to buy organic apples at the Safeway.

I think the biggest component that the government is missing when it comes to talking about poverty is any actual visceral understanding of it. Yes they have their theories and probably see poor people all the time from a distance or up close for photo ops but, they do not have the knowledge in their guts. I think that is what it's going to take to birth any sort of massive change.

Anyway off the soapbox.

I really want to go thrifting right now. I've been looking at outfit posts on Fatshionista and goddamn it I want new spring/summer clothes. I blame a lady who looks fucking fantastic in vintage clothes. Well I blame her today anyway. I WANT.

However that is not to be anytime soon because I am fucking poor and have to eat.

Enough for now. I am going to stalk the LJ for some more deals. I still have a few dollars.


Tuesday, May 22, 2007

When your body fucks with your chi.

I looked at myself in the mirror this morning and said aloud:

"You are fucking up my chi"

(The line is from the movie 'Swordfish' and was entirely heart felt.

I am not well right now. I am not sick but I'm not good. HEre is where I can see the majority of my issues with my body rear their heads and start batting for the title of supreme I'm going to make this bitch crazy Issue.

I have not been feeling right for awhile. I don't think I've talked about it before but my left kidney is kind of a piece of useless crap. it works but not as well as the other one and it pisses me the fuck off.

I am annoyed. I am also annoyed with my immune system because I have been over tired and thus unable to exercise thus, am not improving my cardiovascular health. You see?

I fucking HATE feeling feeble.

Let me gain fifteen pounds, develop more backfat, more cellulite, another chin, chipmunk cheeks, big flat anti-booty but goddamn it DON'T let me feel fucking feeble.

I hate feeling like this.

What has happened often when I've felt not right or weak and tired is I've gone nuts with the working out and diet changes and that works for awhile but I'll tell you I've fucked myself up doing that. Both physically and emotionally.

I am too old for that shit.

So first thing is to get my kidneys happier which means LOTS more water, way less coffee, lots of green tea and cranberry juice. Also I need to start my gentle yoga again.

Then when I'm feeling better I'll work back up to belly dancing. :(

I'm so sad.

I want to DANCE goddamn it and my body is just not keeping up with my brain and it is pissing me the fuck off.

However, I will NOT go to the bad place. What is the bad place you ask?

Let me tell you.

The Bad Placetm is the point where it all becomes a punishment rather than self care. It's when someone loses a fucking eye. It's when I start to get nuts and someone needs to tell me to slow my fucking roll.

I don't have the time nor the desire to deal with that.

So gentle yoga starting tomorrow if I can find the DVD tonight. Juice/tea/water for awhile.

Goodbye giant mug of coffee. I will miss you my dark darling. No more tasty noodle soups from Singapore. I'm sad.

But yeah, body is angry and I need to address the situation before I'm more miserable and unable to.

Blah :(

Homo Out.

PS...days like this it's hard to love my fleshly vehicle very much at all.


Monday, May 21, 2007

Food Porn.

Oh...mah GAWD.

I have the vapors right now.

Holy foody heaven.

Everything I'm about to talk about wanting comes from here. With that..check out my wants.

I want every single one of these items:

Bourbon Chocolates
Maker's Mark, founded in 1953, have long been recognized for their no-nonsense approach to creating quality products. Their red wax label has become their signature, and distinguishes the company from other bourbon producers. These legendary chocolates are what "Men's Journal" calls "one of the most decadent indulgences you'll ever discover." Dark chocolate outside with a rich nougat center, laced with Maker's Mark, then crowned with a single, toasted pecan. The perfect gift.

Um..ok. Dark chocolate AND Maker's Mark?

Bushmills Irish Whiskey Milk Chocolates
Milk chocolate infused with real Bushmills Irish Whiskey. Bushmills Irish Whiskey is distilled three times in traditional copper pot stills, from the finest Irish barley and crystal clear water. Then the whiskey is slowly matured over many years in handmade oak casks to produce a smoothness, flavor and quality that is renowned throughout the world. Each piece of milk chocolate is individually wrapped in gold foil. Ideal to share among friends, as a gift, or for a quiet moment of personal indulgence.

Um again, chocolate and whiskey? Two things I like very much together? Yeah WANT.

Now from chocolate let's move onto another favorite food group, cheese.

I love cheese like you people don't even know. Stinky fancy cheese you eat on snooty weird shaped little crackers with an overpriced glass of wine, some fruit and some snooty attitude. I also like semi crappy cheese that's good on a bologna sammich.

I'm still a bit lactose intolerant so I love me some goat cheese. Chevre is the fucking bomb diggity.

Adom Goat Cheese with Sun Dried Tomatoes
For several years, owners Avinoam and Michal Barkan have learned cheese-making techniques in France and Spain and brought their knowledge back to their Moshav in Israel. The Brakin family's Barkanit Dairy is a spread of 500 acres in the village of Kfar Yehezkel and has a herd of 450 goats and several hundred sheep.

Adom is a lovely goat cheese log rolled in sun dried tomatoes. Refreshing and tangy, this cheese is excellent on fresh crusty French bread; in salads; or melted. Certified Kosher.Kosher for Passover.

Um OMFG yummy.

Cabridoux is a fresh spreadable goat cheese with attractive pyramidal packaging. Made by the experts at Sevre et Belle, you can be sure that a lot of tradition goes into its manufacture. Great as a snack with bread or toast, it is also excellent served with pears or apple slices. Cabridoux is the perfect goat cheese to serve to those who find other chevres too strong.

I've actually had that one and it is really good. I love it very good stuff. Mellow and tasty.

Goat Camembert
This extra creamy goat's milk cheese from France is satiny-smooth with a firm, slightly chewy, edible white crust. Its flavor is all goat - tangy and rustic with hints of lemon and hay. Flown in exclusively every other week, this item is a true delicacy.

Mmm I love Camembert but I've never had a goat cheese version I'd love to try that.

Moving on to meats/seafood:

Brown Sugar Slab Bacon
# Slice this top-quality, extremely lean whole slab bacon as thick as you want. Our slab bacon is brown sugar cured and hardwood smoked. Keep it in the freezer or enjoy bacon for breakfast every day and store it in the fridge. Imported from Poland. Weights may vary.

Bacon...oh my god brown sugar slab bacon. I think I just peed a little that sounds so good. I have an unnatural love of all things bacon.

Salmon Pâté
Les Trois Petits Cochons started in 1975 as a small charcuterie in the heart of New York’s Greenwich Village, where founders Alain Sinturel and Jean Pierre Pradié cooked and offered pâtés and other French specialties to the neighborhood gourmets. They soon received rave reviews by such notables as Craig Clairborne, Mimi Sheraton, James Beard, and others. Once word got out, they began making pâtés for other restaurants around Manhattan. By 1990, demand forced them to expand their operation. Today they make their pâtés in their kitchen, House of Bricks, located in Wilkes Barre, PA. Les Trois Petits Cochons is recognized for its excellence as a leader in the specialty food business and industry it helped to create. They use all-natural, high quality ingredients, and craft small, handmade batches.

The Three Little Pigs offer a luscious delicacy featuring smoked Atlantic salmon. This creamy pâté is garnished with garden vegetables and seasoned with mushrooms.


Bloc de Foie Gras de Canard
In celebration of their 25th anniversary, Les Trois Petits Cochons (The Three Little Pigs) created this sublime bloc. Made with pure Foie Gras and Sauternes wine. You have to try it to believe it! Enjoy it spread on a mini toast as a gourmet hors d'ouevre before the meal. You and your companions will be in Foie Gras heaven.

I know it's bad but god damn I LOVE me some good foie gras.

Avruga Caviar - 55 Gram
In order to preserve the endangered sturgeon species, the Pescaviar Company offers us delicious caviar alternatives from roes of well-populated fish. Give Avruga Caviar from wild herring a try, and you'll discover its exquisite flavor. Avruga Caviar is a perfect substitute for recipes that call for salmon or sturgeon varieties. It can also lend originality to your salads or appetizers and enrich your pasta and fish dishes.

Mmmm HELLS yeah gimme a spoon and a toast point bitch.

Okay I must STOP the madness right now before I drool all over myself. Go tot hat website. If you want to buy me presents remember, Shannon Loves Bacon.

Need snooty food.

Send monies.

Homo Out.


Have you ever...

I'm always looking for interesting blogs and such to read however, sometimes this just provides fuel for my irritation.

First one, found random local LJ user who I have a bunch of interests in common with. In the first paragraph I read she seems to equate "poor" with "creepy and bad" and spends a little bit complaining about one portion of her bus ride.


And now an open letter to the blogosphere at large.

Dear Bloggers,
There are some things we need to talk about. Yes I'm talking to you. First of all, please stop couching your assholeness in pretty language. Five dollar words or none own your dickheadedness. Don't say things like,

"well if *they* have a problem it's not my problem"

That kind of shit irritates people who might want to have a productive conversation.

Trolls, yes you. Can we think of something new please? If you are a troll and you intend to hurt feelings, stir up some shit etc if you use ANY of the following lines of reasoning you fucking FAIL:





"If you'd lose some weight/fix your teeth/fix your hair etc you'd be so much cooler."



Fuck off.

You get my point. Think up something new please kthnks.

What else?

Those of you funny smart people who write your thoughts and send them into the ether. Please don't abandon me to the void of the internetz. I get really sad when people don't update.

Love me.

What else?

Okay I'm going to share.

I feel like the little black girl that can't. I spent a few hours over the weekend trying to practice braiding my hair in some manner other than the small box braids I can do and failed. Utterly and entirely. Rationally I realize that I am not the only black woman in the world who cannot really do her own hair.

But still it depresses me.

I can't cornrow, I can't French braid, I can't give myself extensions, on and on and I get so upset. I would like to be able to do more of these things so I can leave my hair the hell alone while it's growing.

It really bothers me. People have tried to show me how to braid well enough to at least be able to sleep with braids in my hair and I just do not get it. I was almost in tears on Saturday after a failed attempt at flat twists because someone said it was easy.

Granted most of this is entirely in my head and something I should be feeling shame over but it's still there I can't just ignore it.

It's more than just braiding though.

I don't know how to flat iron my hair properly, and styles that aren't my mini buns or a ponyfall and I am at such a loss. I have yet to attempt a real rollerset because I don't have a bonnet for my dryer, and I have learned if I want straight and shiny I need heat.

It's so frustrating.

I can do unhealthy crazy things.

Liberty spikes? Check.

Anime inspired colored giant hair. Check.


But nothing daily wear/easy care.

I want to learn but it's frustrating.

To ease some of this frustration I have decided to invest in a soft bonnet attchment to my hair dryer and a buttload of magnetic rollers. Then practice practice practice.

I hadn't really realized how much of an issue I had with this until this weekend. It's tiring.

How ever there is good news. I have a head of not incredibly long, soft fluffy texlaxed (as in relaxed but not bone straight..need more explanation ask), that is growing slowly but steadily and I am retaining healthy length. That means a lot to me for years my hair was very unhealthy and I didn't really know how to take care of it.

It has me thinking more about other issues I have/had with my appearance and why. One of my big red buttons o' emotional butthurtedness (yes I totally just made up that word) is the idea that I am incapable of doing something. That I am too dumb/blind/absurd/whatever to get the hang of doing something that seems to me to be relatively simple.

That's the root of my depression and frustration over many things. I hate not being able to do something. Not because I am physically unable but, because I am able but I just can't.

It's a little stupid maybe but very telling. At least to me.

I would say over my 30 years of life 60% of my frustration and anger with myself has come from this wellspring o' brain stink. I'm not entirely sure how to deal with it at all. Honestly.

However I will be working on it.

I frustrate myself sometimes. I know I should be nicer but it's not easy.

That's it. I'm spent and want to make tea.

Homo Out.


Friday, May 18, 2007

Cranky but surviving.

My crankiness is mitigated by the very tasty left over lo mein I just ate.

It's a good thing I have no intention of going out tonight because given my mood I would almost certainly get in a bar fight.

I will cut a bitch today.

I am also soothed because One Hung Low is going to make me a fantastic pork based dinner tonight and I am going to drink tasty wine and perhaps get a little snockered.

Good times.

In other news I look fucking hot today. I am wearing my favorite jeans, black flats, black slightly too small (but makes the boobs like DAMN) and a retro pimp style beige nubby textured jacket thing I bought at Value Village eons ago and haven't worn in forever. It'd be better with a slightly less flared darker pair of jeans and cowboy boots but whatever I still look hot.

My thrifting expedition on LJ yesterday was fruitful. Not only am I buying the aforementioned cute short pants but a cute black tshirt with fishnet sleeves and Sid Vicious on it. And, hold your drawers the screened image on it is violently pink.

I know, I think I'm losing it to but whatever it will look hot with my asymmetrical hem skirt.

That's how I shop. I don't tend to buy complete outfits rather I find bits and pieces and match them with things I already have. It's actually quite handy. Also one of the bonuses of shopping online for me is that I am very aware of what I like and what I can work with.

I am still kind of in search of a cute summer dress but I'm not overly worried.

I think I am going to spend most of the weekend after laundry and a possible forray to Goodwill digging in my box of clothes to see what works and what doesn't. Such a fucking task.

I might also attempt another braidout on my hair maybe. If I relax this weekend who knows.

I think that's all I'm not really in ze mood today.

Homo Out.


And your gay boots too.

I want boots. BOOTS.

ActuallY i want the following pairs of boots. Size 7 please kthnks.

Converse Black and white Tartan plaid boots. Oh my GAWD those are so fucking cute I would rock them.

Jam out with my ham out. TD..that's for you babe.

Black Doll Boots. How cute are those? Those would be teh hot sex with a short skirt and some fishnets and or stripey tights like in the picture on yours truly.

Big this represent.

Reaper 30 hole boots. hotness. Thems is Ass kicking boots.

And just to prove I love all shoes equally.

Purple Star Mary Janes.
So cute. I freaking love Mary Janes of all stripes.

Skull platform Sandals.
Sandals with big foam platform like that are SO fucking comfortable. Like walking on pillows but cuter.

I love shoes and boots.

In other news I am in a FAR better mood today. Several bills are paid, I hae sweet Thai tea and take out from Waynes to eat today. And I look freaking cute.

Full length black column skirt, underwire cami from Torrid, black long sweater coat. Mini buns on my head.

Pink make up today.

One more bill to take care of then I am buying a pair of very cute short pants from someone on LJ. I've never had short pants like that but they are cute and a super steal.

I am thinking I will wear those with a pair of wedges. See good reason to buy new shoes.

Can we talk about treats that make me have mouthgasms?

Thai sweet tea from Thailand (not the crap pawned off in the "ethnic" section of the fucking store) is so damn good.

So fucking sweet though makes my teeth hurt but it is SO fucking good.

Holy crap Beth Ditto is going to be in Vogue. Are they going to redeem themselves after I was so disappointed in the Jennifer Hudson layout? I hope so.

I'm late with the whole Beth Ditto thing and I really enjoy her presentation. LIke a lot of other people I admire she doesn't appear to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to be the "palatable" fat girl. As The Rotund (who you should read I love her) talked about the other day the whole idea of having to be palatable so people accept you is bullshit.

Granted she put it more politely than I do but we all know I am not always polite.

I take serious issue with this idea and have come across it all of my life. From the term, "positive black woman" to just the implication that in order to be accepted (because whatever perceived difference I have is SO hard to deal with) I should behave and present myself in a certain prescribed fashion to make it easier on everyone else.

My response?

Fuck you.

No really fuck you.

I have absolutely no inclination to "tone down" or dumb down for anybody. If you want to dislike me or pigeon hole me do it but, know that I won't change myself to suit what you want. Won't happen.

The whole idea that it behooves a person to be less than entirely who they are just to make it easy for other people to deal just pisses me off to no end. And nobody has ever been able to tell me why it's good to coddle people that way. I see no benefit in letting someone keep their tender little bubble intact.

Fuck em.

Now I am going to go thrifting on the internets.

I've got my eye on a waitress dress and cute fishnet tshirt thing with Sid Vicious on it.

Homo Out.


Tuesday, May 15, 2007

A macro and some other assorted things.

So first a cat macro I did not make but want to share.

Ooh before I forget I got this at Fatshionista.

Join us for the first-ever, amazing 'PLUS-SIZE FASHION PALOOZA"
put on jointly by VenusClothes and Two Big Blondes Plus Size Consignment store on Sunday, June 3rd, from 1-6 pm!

From funky to sexy to elegant clothing all under one fabulous, remodelled roof! Reacquaint yourself with VenusClothes owner Julia Kaplan and meet Susan Smith, new owner of Two Big Blondes.

Delicious snacks and beverages, acres of consignment clothing! Take a chance on Two Big Blonde's Spinning Wheel or the Plus-Sized Women's Trivia Contest for great prizes and discounts! Enjoy personal shopping, great food, fun games and friendly people
on a June Sunday afternoon.

Two Big Blondes is located at 2501 S. Jackson St. at the corner of 25th and Jackson; 206-762-8620.

VenusClothes and Two Big Blondes welcomes everyone to come and shop.

Hope to see you there!!!!

I remember shopping at Venus Clothes, I went to a kick ass fashion show there too.

Um what else?

If you don't already read Too Fat For Fashion go to my links list there and click it. Seriously. Granted the clothes are not often my style or anything I"d actually wear but it's good writing AND good LORD chewck out this entry. The featured model is fucking stunning.

I am so exhausted today in general. Makes it hard to want to share anything.

Add the fact that my uterus is right now trying to start a fight with everything else in the general vicinity. And then as a grand finale I have a feeling it is going to do a triple gainer and drop out. No seriously. I think it is going to leap out of my vagina, shimmy down my leg and then give me the finger.

I'd actually like to share something. I took my measurements this morning and have discovered that I am just barely actually plus size anymore. At least from a purely measurement standpoint. I'm not really sure how I feel about that. I thought I'd be more excited but I'm really kind of meh.

I'm not really certain how to process my feelings here. On one hand I'm fairly positive that if I manage somehow to shave off another few inches off of said measurements I'll be firmly in the big end of "straight" sizes but, I'd still be fat. On the other hand I know if I lose those few inches that none of my favorite and cute plus size clothing will fit.

I think part of my ambivalence is that it doesn't really matter. Add an inch lose three I'm still pretty much exactly the same. My overall body shape is still not congruent with most retailers idea of sizing. So really it just doesn't matter to me anymore.

I think I'm spent. I'm tired and am working on something. G'night.

Homo Out.


Monday, May 14, 2007

Spam says..

According to my spam box I am entitled to a bigger penis, thinner thighs, an Asian or Russian mail order brides, a date with a hot big titty virgin and loads of cash.

I can assure you folks my penis is fine as it is, she's probably not a virgin, yeah until they legalize the gay marriage I have no use for a mail order bride and as for the thighs and cash deliver those to my front door kthnks.

I was too tired to share this but Saturday night after (shockingly) I got out of downtown and was actually 1 block away from my house I almost got hit by a car. Almost as in if I had been paying less attention I would probably be in the hospital today with broken parts. I had to jump back and stand almost in the bushes a full six feet from the actual road so as not to get hit.

Upside seeing two teenage boys run across the street screaming, "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU" at the car and throwing whatever they threw. And two seeing a cop whip around the corner from Gods know where to give said fucker a ticket.

I was very glad to get home safely. I was also so tired I seriously debated just sleeping on the floor in front of the bathroom. But I didn't I made it to bed and at some point suppose I got naked though I don't recall.

SO yeah that was not cute I was not excited about the fucking drunks on the road in my neighborhood.

I just signed up for the Joann's email list. That could make for the trouble.

Anyhow I had a memory on the bus and would like to share.

I was reminded today of how I feel when I get the, "Oh my goodness you've lost weight" spiel from people. I ran into somebody I hadn't seen in probably three or four years who said "Oh you've lost weight you looook faaaaaaaaaabulous". I said thank you and went on to get on my bus.

What I am struck by is one, I haven't lost weight to my knowledge. I am wearing my hair up and away from my face (two very cute little buns YEAH baby) and it's warm out so I'm not wearing nine layers of clothes. But I was reminded of when I'd been out of high school a year or so maybe and a friend of mine from back then had invited me over to her house.

We hadn't seen each other since graduation and her nephew (who was the cutest little flirt good LORD that boy) walked up to me (I was very into my summer uniform that year, cut offs, braided leather belt, tight tank top, showin a little tummy and a lot of leg, flat sandals that I wore the absolute hell out of) so he runs up to me, looks up and says with the big sad puppy dog eyes.

"How come you're not fat anymore?"

I had no idea how to answer. At the time at 19 years old I really didn't think about it. Well no let me rephrase, I did but it was more to notice when I was the fat friend and when I wasn't. That's a post for another day however. I remember I had no idea how to answer so her Mom said to him.

"She's growing up is all. That was just baby fat. Now you come over here"

So he was distracted and there was no further discussion of my weight.

Except at a few other family/family friend functions. I remember that same summer overhearing how much weight I'd apparently lost.

What strikes me is that again I hadn't lost that much weight. Few pounds yes. But nothing so drastic. What had changed was that I was all about showing some skin. I was wearing halter tops (a first) all sorta damn near booty shorts, I was not necessarily quite and shy to let out the jiggle as I am now.

Which is good. I was 19-20 years old.

But now, as I've mentioned time and again I'd like a little of that attitude back.

I find I feel it in my head, in my top thoughts. While I am getting dressed in my head in those top thoughts I am like, "YEAH LOOKIT THAT HOT ASS RIGHT THURR BITCH!"

And then next thing I know I've got on something entirely other than what I'd intended.

In other news some of you may be aware that I have been on a hair growing/hair health quest for sometime now.

Yes, it has in fact taken me years to figure out how to care for my hair properly and to retain the growth I'm getting. I'm very ~very~ proud of myself. My hair is healthy and shiny.

Now I just have to learn to style it without a shit load of heat or other damaging stuff.

Today for the first time in ages I am not wearing a head covering of some sort, I am sportin the mini buns and they fucking rock.

I also have a sparkly bobby pin. So HA.

I'm trying (in case you haven't picked up on it) to feel cute and good today and it's a struggle. I've got a migraine brewing and think my crotch is going to start with the bleeding and I'm really not in the mood to deal with it right now.

My uterine spidey sense is all a fucking twitter.

I don't normally mind having my period. It's not a huge deal for me. I am honestly just not in the fucking mood for it right now. Because no matter what I always manage to stain something. I don't feel like having to rinse blood out of my pubes. I don't enjoy the crotchal area soreness. I am just not in the mood.

I would appreciate a weeks hiatus from the bleeding.

Also the premenstrual migraine? Well it can fuck right off.

I think I am going to run off and make myself some tea, refill my water bottle and perhaps indulge in some movie butter flavor popcorn.


Saturday, May 12, 2007

Kind of in the love now.

Okay so I have read some of Violet Blue's works. Oh and fair warning probably NONE of my links today are going to be at all work safe.

So I was cruising around the interwebs and I think I found her blog via um...I'm not sure. Anyhow I've never heard her speak before but I've seen her kinda naked which is a weird thing about the internet but oh my good LORD I now have a huge crush.

I think Violet Blue is freaking adorable. Like I want to hug her and do girl tihngs with her adorable. So I was reading her blog and started watching her video blog posts and I am in girl love. I want to buy her coffee or alternately a drink and talk about the shade of lipstick she was wearing in video two while she's talking about her cat.

And I kinda wanna be doing what she's doing when I grow up.

No seriously.

She makes all my happy areas tingle. Smart, cute, writer, cool glasses, de-porned her house for pre kitty adopting but missed the SUPER porn on her wall, funny. That just makes me all excited.

And a little sad I don't live in a cooler fucking city.

I was going to comment but yeah I got shy. Shut up it's not funny.

I also really want to go to Sex Educator Training Classes at SFSI (San Francisco Sex Information).


I did this project thing at work today that reminds me how much I fucking hate data entry and cannot believe I used to actually enjoy it. I did at one time. Wow.

Listening to Etta James makes it a lot better.

Listening to her music makes me want to do burly q. I bet I could learn how to spin tassles to W-O-M-A-N.

Well I can sorta picture it in a I don't actually think I'm at a point where I am gonna get naked in public again.

Did I mention I've been at wotk since 11:30 this morning and I am really seriously tired. I am too old to be working super long shifts.

All this girl love nonsense today leads to me think about the fact that I have not been consuming very much porn lately nor have I written very much at all. Mainly I think it's because I am finding a lot of current mainstream (even fetish) porn makes me make faces.

There are lots of things I prefer not to see in my porn:

Anything that alludes to the youngins. I don't want schoolgirls/boys. It truly creeps me out. Especially when the "legal" girl/boy in question is done up in teenagerish clothing and has no pubes. EW. Icky.

I also do not want to see girls/boys choking on cocks, fists, strap ons whatever. I know that's like a thing these days but i am not into it. I've seen enough people gag and puke kthnks.

Also, don't want to see the "XTREME" insertions. Really. I realize a vagina can yanno pass a human being but, that doesn't mean I get all twiddly in my pants when I see someone shoving a foot, football, what have you into one. Also, I love the buttholes but same idea I just don't wanna see it. In other words, I don't wanna see your colon.

And the whole shaving thing. I want to see some fucking pubes and not have it be labeled a "bizarre" movie.

And please if your stars can't act, just don't let them do it. Let them be naked and hot and screw but please no acting.

I want to see porn where it looks like the people are into it/each other. I'd like to see less ginormous implants on super skinny girls. I'd like to see some jiggly butts and people who come so hard all they can do is giggle.

Is that a lot to ask?

Apparently these days it is.

Most of the porn I like anymore is fairly old especially considering just how many porn movies are made every year. I can't imagine just how many that is but considering it's a multi billion dollar industry it's a lot.

Some of my favorites? Anything with Annie Sprinkle uh yeah DUH. I like Femme Fatale media of course. Uum...yeah lots of other stuff I can't remember the names of.

I like good porn.

However anymore I enjoy reading it far more.

More about that some other time. No more for now.

Homo Out.


Friday, May 11, 2007

Things that are bliss.

I have never been a huge chocolate lover. I have a voracious and discerning sweet tooth but chocolate has never really done it for me until now.

I never understood my Mom's love of chocolate, that slight flush and immediate glee of the chocolate lover. I poo-poo'd the chocolate simulates love in the brain articles. I laughed at my chocolate addict friends.

Until two weeks ago.

My darling One Hung Low (see link at right for his blog, bother him to update it) brought home the following and now, I'm an addict.

Hershey's special dark chocolate with a flavor of espresso. The great tasting chocolate bar with a wonderful taste of expresso.

Oh, my ever loving chocolate dipped holy shit I want to snort this stuff or shoot up with it Married Mother of Hank.

If melted down I could slam this straight into my jugular I would.

I have fallen into chocolate love.

Now I realize it has no actual espresso in it but, until I had that I had never thought to put these two things together. Dark chocolate which I love and espresso..yeah DUH. Oh MAH GAWD

Then I find out it's limited edition. Which means that our local off price grocery store will probably have them for awhile since apparently Mike and I are the two of maybe four people who ever buys the dark chocolate when they have it. Go figure.

Good lord.

Today is better.

I am such a foody. And I'm tired of being broke and unable to enjoy the food as much as I'd like. I miss eating fish. I really miss finding tasty new treats at Wayne's grocery.

Not that Wayne's is expensive but, every time I go in there I come out with about 20 dollars worth of tasty instant ginger drinks from Singapore and tasty sweet tea in thick cans from Thailand.

Goddamn I started this hours ago and forgot after Bloggers downtime. Why don't do they that on off hours? I work in telecom, you don't take down whole ginormous services and schedule it early evening. That's dumb.


Speaking of delicious I am wearing a favorite DIY'd to death skirt.

It's bright red and ankle length, swishes around my feet when I walk with a pretty lettuce edged hem. It started life as a retro-ish sundress with spaghetti straps and a ruffle around the top but, it looked weird on me. So off went the ruffle and I was in the process of making it into a skirt a few months ago when I realized I had no elastic.

So instead of that I kept most of the bodice and just pin the top hem to the bottom band of my bra and voila.

You people have no idea I can make magic with safety pins and you'd never know.

Today as I was pinning I looked in the mirror and from the bra down I really like how this thing fits me so I think it may well be recycled yet again and made into a dress with either a halter top or maybe a tank style top.

On the subject of clothes let's talk about Hot Topic.

I know I know Go Cry Emo Kid and spend a shitload of money but it wasn't always like that.

I recall (dating myself much here?) when the first area Hot Topic opened in South Center mall. I was among their first handfull of customers and I remember I had heard about this mystical Hot Topic store and saved money for it. I bought two issues of Gothic Beauty a now defunct goth magazine called I believe it was Carpe Noctem, a studded sparkly purple vinyl collar (come on now I haven't changed that much obviously) and some other bits and pieces.

I loved that store. It was at the time the only place I didn't have to dig and dig and dig through racks for black clothing. It was affordable and I loved their version of Lip Service Serious Clothing, etc. It was the only place I was old enough to get into for clothes like that.

Granted the quality wasn't great but was comparable with the cost.

This was before it was quite so mainstream to let your freak flag fly.

Hot Topic is a prime example of what happens to something cool when you mix huge amounts of money, mainstream fashion and teenagers. Now just about any store you go into you'll be able to find shit with skulls spikes or any other formerly freaky little doodad on it.

I think a lot of the scene furor over the demise of Hot Topic as a "cool" place to shop is a tad whiny. It's how culture works. I don't worry about it. In another few years it will be some other thing and Hot Topic will die off or the flocks of actual freaky people will return.

Fear not actual Freaks. Be patient.

Oh my good LORD I was just reading Modblog in another window and saw this not safe for work unless nobody minds nekkid boobies photo of a cute pregnant tattooed girl in the bathtub. How pretty is that?

I also like this marginally safer unless you are offended by butt crack photo as well.

I would really love someday to do a series of self portraits. And write essay type things to go along with them. I like to take the odd self portrait and I think it would be beneficial to me. I'm not sure nor do I really care if it would be beneficial or sell able to other people. It's one of those things I feel the need to do.

I think that's enough babbling for now.

Tomorrow though I am talking about my fuzzy legs, my opinion about shaving in general and probably something else odd.


Thursday, May 10, 2007

Sad start to the day.

I just wrote this on a forum I belong to (HAAAAY LCHF)

I take the bus to and from work and today when I got off of the bus this is what I saw. A man who'd been shoved out of his wheelchair sitting on the sidewalk bleeding and nobody stopping to even see if he was okay. Nobody had to that point even been kind enough to move his wheelchair to where he could get to it and get himself in it.

This made me late for work but, I stopped and he told me how to position his wheelchair so he could pull himself up into it. I helped him pick up his tihngs off of the ground (after yelling at people to stop stepping on his stuff) then I took him to a coffee shop because his face was bleeding.

The people in the store were so rude and mean. I had to buy a cup of coffee I didn't want just so he could go into the bathroom to wipe the blood off of his face. He wasn't scratched up too badly but still. And the whole time I was in there I got the stink eye from employees.

What is wrong with people? I got back on the bus and sat there almost in tears. He didn't even see who pushed him over because he got shoved from behind and he'd been laying there for more than five minutes without any help.

I am so sad for humanity right now.

That was about an hour and a half/two hours ago. I was in a good mood when I left the house and on my busride but that really upset me.

Why do some people have to be such assholes? It's not necessary.

So yeah. My perky got tainted.

I do however have on one of my favorite outfits. My underwire cami from Torrid and my miracle DKNY jeans that I bought for less than 15$ that actually fit, and my studded belt and comfy flats. Hoody of course because I get cold.

That is SO not what I wanted to talk about today.

Actually what I want to talk about today is the first woman other than a relative whom I saw naked.

I can't remember her name but she was my best friend's Mom. We were 5-6 years old and her parents (I can't remember her name either let's call her Petal because I remember she was a very fine petal pink color generally speaking) were both artists. Dad a painter and Mom a scupltress.

I was fascinated by Petal's parents art. Even back then I had a huge love and awe of artistically inclined people. People who could draw an actual human being it was magic to me. So I was delighted as you can imagine when Petal's Dad let us watch him paint.

Then one time, one magical raining day her Mom was posing and we sat essentially silently for an entire afternoon watching. Petal and I held hands and occasionally got up for water or whatever but mostly just sat and watched. Petal's Mama was nekkid and I was entranced.

Her Mom (I remember so vividly I can see it in my head) was more on the swarthy side where Petal and her father were both light pink blonds. Mom was browner with long very dark brown hair, brown nipples and the most gorgeous thatch of dark brown pubes. She had bush and I thought she was amazing.

She had pert chubby small breasts, and dressed she looked very thin. Naked she looked small but fleshy in a cuddly way. She had a round little pot belly that she laid a hand on, her other arm was up with her head resting on it. Most of the time I think she was actually napping, but occasionally she'd open an eye and wink at us or smile a little. She had a crooked front tooth and a very full lower lip. I thought that next to my Mom, Grandma and Great Grandma she was the prettiest woman I'd ever seen up close.

I remember going home and babbling for hours to my Mom about seeing her naked and asking how come Petal's Mom's boobs were a different size than her boobs, and when would I have boobs and pubes. Though even then I said boobies and fur. (See some thing never change) After that I was all about examining the differences between women, noticing them and enjoying them.

I also remember that a family "friend" had been there when I was talking ot my Mom about it and she terrorized me by getting angry about the situation. She wanted us to call CPS on the family because they had naked people (Mom Dad and Petal were frequently naked people) and their art works featured mostly anatomically correct naked people (Mom Dad and Petal again). I was so afraid for them I remember crying because I didn't understand.

That lady in her outrage and (as I understand it now) shameful behaviour scared the tar out of me. I remember trying to explain to her that they weren't you know "doing it" but they were just naked and they were two different things. I tried to tell her how much I liked being naked and you can imagine she got angrier.

I don't remember ever seeing her again after that.

I was a very naked child. I spent a vast majority of my childhood either naked or in the process of getting naked. I remember being at Sea Tac mall back when really the only thing in there was the movie theatre, a restaurant and Sears with a few stores here and there. My parents were talking to other adults and I got too hot. It was also way too hot in that mall and I proceeded to alleviate my overheated wee self by you guessed it stripping to my ruffle butt panties I of course felt much better but my parents weren't too thrilled.

My parents however were usually pretty gentle about my nudism. They never overreacted or made me feel ashamed of my want to be naked. They did eventually get me to understand that some places were not naked places and that worked for me.

I think that part of my upbringing has helped me in numerous ways especially when it comes to body image. Granted my body image isn't always great but, I think it's maybe a little easier for me to work on it because I don't have that backbone of shame around my naked body.

OH before I go if you like to read about sexuality you can read the whole text of XXX: A Woman's Right to Pornography by Wendy McElroy (YEAH) online.

That's all.

Homo Out.


Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Accessories an me...I have a problem.

Hi, My name is Shannon and I am a purse addict.

I fucking love purses. And other accessories.

I pared down my collection quite a bit in the last few years. Ihave 2 full size soft sided briefcase messenger bags, 1 smalish black ammo bag(messenger bag with cute little pockets), 1 Elvis Purse, 1 fantastic purple carryall style purse, 1 black and red flame demonia purse, 1 small black clubbing purse, 1 burlap/black Goddess tote bag, 1 old raggedy black backpack.

Probably one or two others i'm forgetting here. You get my point here. I love purses and I am in the market for a new one. Here are some I'm liking.

That purse is so damn cute. Does anything else say me except a purse that says fuck all over it.

Next I want this belt I had one at some point but it's gone now.

Jingle jangle look how my gluteous dangle. My homage to Missy.

SO freaking cute. With enough room for all my assorted crap.

Okay I need to stop now I need an intervention. We won't even discuss shoes mmkay?

Now Homo Really Out.


Oh man.

Okay I just read that Ricki Lake is now a size 4. I don't even want to link the story.

That makes me kinda sad.

What is it with the size 4? Aside from it being a sample size. I read an old interview with Kelis where in part of the interview she said something to the effect that since she's a size 4 and has some other thing she's entirely super fabulous.

Granted if losing weight means better health and/or being happy do it but good lord.


I don't feel like trying to dissect my feelings about it right now.

In other news one of my FAVORITE places to buy relatively cheap plus size clothes is no longer such a good deal. They had a huge site redesign and now nothing over a size L. They went from having about 300 choices to a single page of cheap looking ugly shirts.

I am really sad now.

Their sizing runs really small as it is.

I think that these are signs. No seriously I do.

I'm finding more and more of my favorite clothing is becoming unavailable in my size. Which is telling me I hope that I really need to start making my own clothes again.

I've got ideas out the wazoo.

Now just need the loot to make some of them reality.

Barring that donations to the Shannon needs new fucking clothes fund. Payable in cash, check or sexual favors.

Okay I think I'm about done here I am going to go ogle some uh...stuff.


Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Weight, loss, genetics and other things.

I was reading TechnoDyke's journal this morning and she posted a link to an NY times article about obesity and genetics.

I think it's an excellent article and everyone should read it. Fat or not.

What it brought to mind aside from a twittering of OH SCIENCY GOODNESS type feelings are the far more complicated feelings I have about my weight.

First off, my perspective on the issue is I think an odd one. I have been under and overweight and everything in between. I also have spent an inordinate amount of time trying to shuck myself of the way it's put out there that one is "supposed" to think about weight.

I want to work from the past forwards here. I might start rambling I don't know. You have been warned.

Since first hearing about genetics and how they think it all works (let's face it, it's still a large mystery) I remember being very young and feeling not quite bad but close to it because I knew from the get go I would not be built like the women in my family who I had access to. My Mother, Grandmother and Great Grandmother all have body types far different from mine.

I am short, broad shouldered, short legged, short torso'd, big tits.

My Mom and Grandma are both tall and spent a majority of their lives being very thin, very very thin and after age 40 somewhat less thin.

My Great Grandmother (R.I.P Nana I miss you) was about average/tall height and prior to getting old very curvy. Classic hourglass.

Until I was about 12-15 I had no idea that I was built like all of my Great Grandmother's Aunts and cousins. It wasn't until I saw a photograph of a Great Aun taken sometime in the late 60's early 70's that I understood this. I understood it immediately and viscerally because I thought on first glance that it was a picture of me taken from the side. She had on a short black dress, no shoes and her hair was big and wild. The photo had been taken after some party or another.

I finally got it after years of feeling a little out of place. I saw the woman I might grow up to be physically and for awhile, I was damn excited.

In those days though admittedly sometimes I longed for the flat bellied lithe look of my peers, I actually kind of enjoyed my body. I was still in that space where my body was this fantastic thing that I could use to dance and walk and (surprise least to me) look and feel desirable.

Though I spent far too much time exeercising, trying to maintain what I felt was my "best body" to steal a phrase from womens magazines I wasn't really happy still. I did learn some things though.

Thousands of crunches, weight lifting etc still will not make me a hard body.

This body was made for comfort and looking like the plush hotness. Muscles and my body don't get on well.

Cellulite happens.

I took these things and for a few years even after high school when I was lost and scared and felt the most like the weird girl out, I still felt okay with my body and as I found out my fatness.

I was not meant to be a thin woman. After years of abusing my metabolism, abusing my joints with heavy impact exercise, eating crap ass food because it had less calories than whatever else I wanted, all that sacrifice and insanity and goddamn it my body still did what it wanted to.

Can you imagine? I spent the better part of a decade of my teen/post teen/earky 20's in this vicious useless cycle. What for?

Granted for short periods I found that abstract place where I thought my body was perfection dipped in milk chocolate. Looking back I was wrong.

Wrong because I honestly look strange (in a not unique or interesting way just bad strange) when I'm thinner than say a size 10-12. I was wrong because my body was suffering. I was starving and mean and hateful because I was fucking hungry. I was miserable and not cute. Which defeated the whole shebang.

I still believed earnestly that thin=good=happy.

No my equation was way off. thin=kinda shitty=fucking depressed.

That was not good. I woke up from that and spent a few years in a blissful state I like to call I just don't give a fuck. And you know what? I didn't. I felt god, I looked good, I was finally at body/self image nirvana it was fantastic.

That brings me up to now.

Where am I now?

I am not thrilled with my body. Aging I accept, feeling feeble I do not. After a series of falls, mishaps etc I have managed to fuck up my back enough that I have to be very careful with exercise so I don't hurt myself. I have joints that are to put it sweetly fucking crappy and I have to be careful.

Sometimes a normal amount of activity leaves me aching and unable to sleep.

Thus I have become less active.

Thus I feel less healthy and all round icky.

Is there light in the tunnel?

Yes there is. I have rediscovered a love of dancing and have a goal to have learned enough belly dance to go to Tribal Fest in two-three years. I am walking about 1.5-2 miles a day. And I have figured out my body isn't going to change that much so I should enjoy what I've got.

And what have I got?

I have a fantastic, (no seriously) FAN_FUCKING-TASTIC rack. I have phenomenal beautiful boobies. I love them.

I have nice soft skin. I have firm an shapely calves, I have a jiggly slightly protuberant belly. I am learning, no relearning how to enjoy this one body I get. It's hard and I damn sure don't do well at it every day but I'm working on it.

To that end I have decided that this summer I am doing two things that I haven't done in more than five years. I am going to go try on clothing until I find a dress that fits and a pair of pants. I am also considering buying a bathing suit even though I don't swim much.

If you've never had body issues it doesn't sound like a big deal but a lot of you know where I am coming from.

That said, now I am going to eat some fucking chocolate and have a cup of very fine coffee because I can.

Homo Out.


Monday, May 07, 2007

Things that bother me.

So I was wandering the blogosphere yet again and came upon the blog of some lady who's had WLS and spent a little time reading through some of her thoughts.

If I had known her personally pre and post surgery I don't think I would want to be her friend and that makes me sad.

I've known quite a few people who have lost astounding amounts of weight and it didn't turn them into fat hating assholes.

Why does newfound privilege as a non fat person make so many people unpleasant?

It makes me sad. Gaining self love, better health and a better body image doesn't mean you get to be a dick with impunity.

I guess that's all I actually wanted to say. It's bedtime now.

Be decent to each other.

Homo Out.

What don't I feel fabulous?

The sun is shining and there's enough of a little breeze to feel really nice.

I also am wearing some hot ass pink and purple eyeshadow that looks damn good.

I'm in a mostly comfortable outfit. Jeans, double row pyramid stud belt, beater style tank top with safety pins along the top, hoody.

My hair is clean and soft.

I also just started some tasty French Press coffee.

And I am very consciously trying to feel good. Without reserve or cranky.

Granted, it's been hard going today for some reason but I'm working on it. I think most of my persistently dark mood is (as usual) financial worry. I also kind of hate that I've become that grown up.

I remember years ago when I got a job that paid 8$ an hour I thought that was serious big pimpin. Ahh to be a little irresponsible and still pay the bills. I mourn thee oh my misspent youth.

However I am trying, (no seriously) to look up.

Part of the problem is reigning in my rampant ambitions. There are SO many things I want to start doing. Most of them revolve around crafting and DIY clothing. However it will take time and patience. The latter isn't something I posses in overlarge amounts.

What do I want to do?

I want to make strange clothes. Pin up clothes, fairy princess clothes. I want to make myself purses.

I want to make fairy wings.

I want to make myself corsets.

Huge voluminous taffeta fluffy skirts that I will wear with purple chucks and a Tshirt that says, "Go Screw" or something.

What I'm doing here is making a tangible promise to myself. Call it visualizing or whatever you like. All I know is that if I keep these things right in my top brain, right where my heart can tug on them and mold them I won't just give up.

Giving up is very tempting. It's hard not to just say, "Fuck it I'm poor and don't get to have hobbies" but I'm trying.

I do have one project I can start. I can fix up my poor broken Goddess bag to use for summertime. Hrm..note to self scavenge closet for good straps.

That's all I think.

Homo Out.

Meet my Daemon

Ain't he purdy?

Not much to report.

Going to go wash my hair and maybe wax my eyebrows. Absolutely paint my nails.

That's all really.

I'm not very exciting I slept and watched movies this weekend.

My life is rich in adventure /sarcasm.

Friday, May 04, 2007

I am's been a day.

First a quote from a prayer by Rob Brezsny's website:

EAR GODDESS, sweet Goddess, you sly universal virus with no freaking opinion:

Please help all the personal growth addicts out there to become disciplined enough to go crazy in the name of creation, not destruction.

Teach them the difference between oppressive self-control and liberating self-control.

Awaken in them the power to do the half-right thing when it is impossible to do the totally right thing.

Arouse the Wild Woman within them—even if they’re men.

Most of all, Goddess, brainwash them with your freedom so that they never love their own pain more than anyone else’s pain.

I have been (nothing new I know) very stressed out lately today I am feeling emotionally very transperant and fragile. A wrong word might I don't know crack me across the forehead or some such.

My own Wild Woman Within is fucking asleep or she's dead I'm not sure. I hate this feeling.

Everything feels somehow wrong or out of place and I don't like it.

However I do see the value in it and want to be able to get through it. I am trying very hard to remember that the Universe/Gods/Goddesses/Uncle Fuckers out there are not trying to kill me even if it feels like it. I can breathe and I will be all right.

One thing that makes me feel better is I finally got my syndication (feed) issue sorted. Look on the right there and you can add my feed to google or you can subscribe via the email. Nudiemuse all up in yer inbox yo.

So as my emotions are going weee...OH HAY LOOK YOU GOT TEARS I'm going to share a little memory.

Imagine if you will your very own Nudiemuse in the 6th grade. Just getting into super fabulous make up, and into pastels. No seriously pastels I shit you not.

So when I was in the sixth grade I developed myself some very cute little boobies however I was very averse to wearing a bra. I also loved to dance back then. And I was into HUGE hair. Hair hopper. I kid you not. So this big dance came up at the Tukwila Community center and of course I wanted to go. Which I did.

I spent probably four-five hours getting ready. I crimped every inch of my thick just past shoulder length hair then man handled it into a hugely crimpy on one side, slicked back over the ear type do. Then the make up.

Brace yourselves.

Shimmery shades of pewter and gray from lashes to eyebrow. Sadly I was actually better at blending back then but whatever. I'm talking high frost BLING from back in the day. And of course what to go with it. Wet N Wild fuscia lipstick.

And the outfit.

Pastel colors of course, save for my acid wash jean skirt mini, white ankle socks, lavender faux Keds (because I didn't wear real Keds those were fucking expensive) a pastel peach tank top and the topper a pastel lilac huge shoulderpad having blazer. I was a Miami Vice worthy hottie and fucking knew it. I. KNEW. THIS.

So armed with 4 dollars, 3 for entrance and 1 for a soda or whatever I went to the dance.

I danced my wee heart out and was chosen by the D J to participate in a dance competition. With older kids. Eighth graders.

What I remember is dancing my wee heart out and making it to the last two. Dancing with a cute boy who's family mine knew for years. And I won. Then he gave me a hug and said I was a great dancer. I also recall slow dancing with this boy to some Def Leopard song.

That was one of the first time I felt (I didn't understand at the time) a sense of power and awe about something I could do. I felt beautiful.

In the intervening years I've found and lost that feeling many times over. Felt like I could conquer the known world with gigantic brains and a formidable bust. It's a good feeling to me. I want it back.

It's difficult when the real adult word presses in and I'm spending time worrying bout work, money the future to feel just powerful and beautiful.

It's a sacred thing to me and I believe I will get it back.

I have to believe that.

Homo Out.

PS..feel free to get my blog via subscription that would be cool.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

News and boobies for change..

I was just cruising Reuters and saw this story about breastfeeding awareness in the Philippines. I think that is really cool that many women got together to make a point.

And speaking of boobies I want one of these years to go to TribalFest and dance. You have no idea how seriously cool I think it would be. However I do need to actually learn how to bellydance more before even thinking about it.

This is a really cool article about the history of bellydance.

Ugh i am getting a migraine so nevermind.

Homo Out.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007


So I'm again cruising the interwebs and I'm finding some really cool things that give me ideas.

Ideas are good.

I have a serious goal to get back into sewing because stuff I like is freaking expensive.


I really love this overdress style. Very versatile looking and I bet if I made one with sleeves in a heavier fabric it would make a nice fall coat.

I also have this plan in mind to redo a coat given to me by a coworker. It's cute but not my style so I want to turn it into a three quarter length monster fur coat with a hood and ears.

I'm pricing materials and have been coming up with a plan to make the Beasty Coat live.

My ultimate goal here is to get to a point that I can just whip up whatever outlandish winged, chain having, furry outfit I get an itch for and thus save a shitload of money in the process. Which would leave money for fabulous shoes.

And who doesn't need their wardrobe to turn into a stygian morass of velvet and shiny things? Exactly.

I think I love Kiera Knightley a little bit right now. I just read this quote:

Talking about seeing Ditto at a Gossip gig she told Elle magazine: 'When she was performing she started taking all her clothes off. I stood there watching her strip, thinking, 'Oh my God, that woman is so sexy.'

I think that was a very cool thing of her to say. And from the rest of the article I don't think she was being facetious which I love even more.

I think it's sad that she gets picked on so much. Yes she is a very skinny girl. And from what she's said goddamn it leave her the hell alone about it. It makes me sad that she's made to feel badly about her body. Fucking stop. And how people are reacting makes me ill.

And really if any celebrity is actually suffering from an eating disorder does harassing them help? No. Frankly I'm over the whole debate. Let people work it out if they need to and leave them the fuck alone while they are doing it.

It's fairly maddening.

Onto happier things.

I ate some Beltane chocolate and will probably dance around a little.

I think this year I might actually celebrate Midsummer. I think going to the Summer Solstice Parade and Pageant might do me some spiritual/soul good. Naked Bicyclists and other random strange people is a good thing.

That would be a good excuse to dress up in sparkly fairy wear and make with the cuteness. That would be fun.

What else?

Not much actually altough I do have a favor to ask.

I signed up for this silly send money via text message etc service and for every person I refer I earn 5$. All you have to do is get an email sign up with any phone number, get a call at that number, listen to the message and press 1. I get five dollars and if you decide to use it you get 5$ too.

I want to make 40 dollars so I can purchase a relaxer and a few other random girl type things that I am otherwise too broke to buy.

Comment with email and I will send you an invite.

Now I'm off to do other GPT type things and try to earn some more loots for stuff.

Homo Out.

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