Friday, February 15, 2008

Dear Body

From Body Impolitic I got this link and I've done this before but this time I want to join in the group effort from BlogHer.

Dear Body,
How you doin? I'm kidding I know I know. You're pissed right now I know. I fed you way too much dairy and you retaliate with serious gastric distress. I already said I was sorry about that, but come on you can't fling cravings like that and not expect to be given what you're hollering for.

Also what is going on with the rampant insomnia? I know how much you hate to be drugged into submission but really can't we all get along and/or work together here? Three broken hours of sleep a night do not a sane functioning Shannon make. I don't know what I did to piss you off so much but I'm sorry. No really I'm really really sorry.

The Milk Incident aside, I am SO proud of you bowels. I really am, normal non traumatic pooping more than twice in the same week? Look at YOU GO. No speed guts, no weird painful gas, no sitting in the bathroom for a half an hour. You are being so fabulous. I'd put glitter on you if I could.

Venturing to other areas uterus I am talking to you right now. What the blue fuck is wrong with you lately? What is with the Periods of the Apocalypse? You don't have to demonstrate your might and power to me by passing things that make the entire area uncomfortable. Really. Also really if you're bleeding like I dunno you're doing a solo slasher movie could you ease up on the cramps? You really don't have to do both at once it's not a requisite thing. Also stop giving my attempts at Midol related relief the finger. It's just rude.

Oh right before I move anywhere else hair. My hair my hair, my crowning glory, my fantastic fluff. You have your own journal. I just want to commend you for not falling out during any of my experiments in hair care. You feel strong thick and silky, you are growing like gangbusters and I love you. I know it's been what fifteen years since I've said that and meant it? I do really -really- love you. For the first time in my adult life I know how to care for and love you. I promise I will not subject you to bleaching, atomic red (even though admit it baby, we were great together with that) and I promise I won't have a snit and shave you all off. Fluff on baby, fluff on.

Boobies, my darling magnificent D Cups of MotherFucking Doom. Ladies, play nice. I know you're all excited for Spring and some exposure but really, keep it down to a dull roar in there. Also, this going up a quarter cup size pre-period. Quit it, you get attention too. So stop.

Skin. I love your color. Brown and just a hair lighter than fine milk chocolate. You are edible looking and delicious. And I'm very sorry I haven't been taking as good care of you as I should be. I promise I am working on that. You will be anointed and creamed up so that come Spring and whatnot you will be silky and glowing. We both know one of the absolute perks of having brown skin is that glow and baby, you are going to have it. Enough of it I might just break out that glimmer powder shit you like so much. I have plans for you, and they involve lengthy stroking with hands lubed up with all sorts of yummy smelling buttery goodness baby.

Belly. Here we are. In our 30 years together we've been through a lot haven't we? Remember that shit about me wanting you to be all Janet Jackson-fied? Remember I wanted you to look like this? And you said bitch please? I'm sorry about that. I know (really know) that you and Miss Jackson's Abs of Might are two entirely separate entities and never the twain shall meet. I know I haven't been nice to you lately. I've been avoiding you because you are different and I didn't know how to deal with that. I'm sorry about that. Let's be friends okay? Also I know this may be a controversial thing to say but, you know what baby? I want to get you tattooed. I'm not sure with what but, I want to decorate you with something beautiful. You think? I think. No fuck that I know. You need ink. Mmkay? But I promise never again with the multiple belly button rings. Those were irritating. Cute and all but annoying.

Ham. For those new here I call my thighs my ham and I am just realizing a great heretofore unknown love of my Ham. I Jam Out With my Ham out. (That phrase I blatantly stole from Technodyke from um....I don't recall where but she said it and I cleaved to that lil phrase. It's mine now but I share). Baby I love you. Yes you are big, yes you are probably out of proportion with the rest of my but and you always have been. But goddamn it man, you are sexy. You are strong and I love you. A few links in tribute to you. Because I know for a long time I focused my hate at you and I didn't need to.

Big Legged Woman by Jerry Lee Lewis.

And Poppa Chubby, baby he's singing to you.

All right now body, overall we are good. Aren't we? Granted some of the aches and pains make us all grouchy and not inclined to get along. But we're getting through it. Like Poppa Chubby there says, we go together like red beans and rice.

In the end after 30 years I will say goddamn it I am a fine fine piece of ass all the way around. For some reason I have the almost unresistable urge to get up and dance around like James Brown (R.I.P man.) Singing I'M BLACK AND I'M PROUD. Alternating my own lyric in there, I'M FINE AND I'M PROUD. I'M FAT AND I'M PROUD. Okay when people leave the office I am totally doing that.

Yes people, when people start leaving my workplace I am going to do some jamming out with my ham out. I am going to shake it a little at my desk. Why? Because I can and because it's fun and it feels good.

I will probably grab my own ass while I'm at it.

OH I don't want to forget my booty. The Brown Round. And I will admit I still absolutely covet the idea of having a big ole round booty. Because I quite frankly do not have a big ole round booty. I want ASS like BLAM. I want, video girl ass that is of such brown round fantastic proportions that I could shake each ass cheek independantly of one another and on beat. This is something I have a difficult time getting past the want of. I can and do bootyshake for my own amusement. I advocate booty shaking for EVERYONE. I don't care if you've got a wee tiny booty, a big wide flat booty, a BAM big ole booty whatever. Once in awhile shake that shit. Not because some dude thinks it's hot, but just because you can and it's fun.

So booty I am sorry I wish you were things you are not and will not ever be. I know it's not nice and I'm sorry. I am working on it. I promise I am. In lieu of the syncopated butt cheek jiggling that you are thus far incapable of let's do some of this (this video is from Maragret Cho's Sensuous Woman tour.) probably not at work but when we get home. Deal? Deal.

Oh and one more thing um, enough with the gas mmkay?

(Also Hunter is freaking hot just sayin)

And where can I get some panties with tassles like that? I lack booty flesh but HOT DAYUM I want those. I would never wear pants.

To end this, yes body we have our ups and downs but I love you. So there.

Your Resident Soul.

Homo Out.

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