Sunday, October 31, 2010

The shit just got real. Fattie in tight ass pants.

Emotionally I can't be angry any more this week. I am not going to be.

Today's post is brought to you by me in my first pair of skinny jeans.


Breakdown all black clearly.
Torrid Jeggings size 1
Tank- Walmart? XL
Cardigan-thrifted no brand size 16/18
Black doc martens- size 7

For reference I’m 5’3-4ish dunno how much I weigh. Most my clothes are XL-XXL 14-18-ish. I had on some jewelry earlier but had taken it off. Foto taken by Uniballer of course.

I thought I wanted to talk about fat shaming and whatnot but really, I am just not in the fucking mood anymore.

So how about let's talk about something I am kind of amazed about?

So this skinny jeans things. I have to confess I turned my nose up at this trend since it started. I'm not a tight pants person. I wasn't a tight pants person when I was really thin, not now. It's just never really been my thing.

It started with all of the interesting leggings options. Cut outs, lace, leather, slashes, patterns, exquisite details. The leggings that are out now are the sort i had wet goth fashion dreams about when I was still a chubby baby goth.

It had to lead to the skinny jean cut Jeggings.

My big problem with tight pants has not been an OH NOES I'm too fat to wear tight pants thing. It's always been a proportion and fit thing.

Normally the way pants are cut from crotch to waist band, my body does not follow that line. My waist is way high up under my boobs and my low waist measurements usually mean that I have to get a size or two up which then means the ass. hips and thighs are too big. we all know I do not want.

So when I have wanted pants a lot of the time if it wasn't slacks or twill pants I've bought pull on pants.

It works for me.

I will also say that as I mentioned to Tangerine Jones on Twitter, and that you already know if you've read me for awhile; I lack bootymeats.

I am a fat girl without a fat booty. And by fat booty I mean I have a lack of roundness in the buttocks area so a lot of pants, especially pants that are specifically plus size make my ass sad.

I started this on Friday I wore that outfit on Thursday.

So to sum up the above jeggings are a win. I would like them to have a slightly higher rise but whatever. I dig them.

And holy wow thank you SO MUCH T. You made me cry. Thank you.

And let me point y'all towards awesomeness. Awesomeness in the form of a post by Jiz Lee about (for serious not work safe y' really)Body Positivity. I have to confess having a wee bit of a crush on Jiz. Smart, sexy, kind. Awesome. You will be greeted with a fantastic Adiposivity shot of my homie Mollena too.

I will talk more about Jiz tomorrow.

Uniballer and I celebrated our 7th anniversary together today with an epic meal, a lovely walk and some frolic in Rite Aid. It was lovely.

kay post is done. I'm out of steam and full of seafood. I have yet to wash my hair and whatnot so goodnight my darlings. I hope your Halloween was lovely.

Tomorrow, no rage. Tomorrow is all about love, solidarity and some stuff I want everyone to know.

Until then keep comfy. Love yourselves and other people.

Be awesome my homies and haters, be awesome.

Homo Out.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Marie Claire, oh my good lord.

I'm not linking to more of it. I'm reading more of this Marie Claire debacle unfold and I have some thoughts.

Something I think a lot of the screw you fatties opinion holding people are missing is that the issue is not Maura Kelly.

Maura Kelly and the things she said really suck. Her apology sucked. Marie Claire's handling of the issue sucks.

What sucks more and is the bigger issue is that fat people get treated to this kind of thing for the majority of our lives.

For a lot of fat people there is no quarter from people who want to make us better, who want to decide on a glance that we are the bane of the health care industry, that we are fucking up the planet, that we'd be so much better if only we lost the weight, that if we just tried hard enough gosh darn it we could be socially acceptable.

The fact is I don't give a flying fuck at a donut about whether or not someone in the general meat space world finds me attractive unless I am trying to date them. As a fat person negotiating the world I have to listen to people telling me at every turn shit that is not okay.

I have had to learn to claw and fight my way through self loathing that is seemingly mandated by society but lauded because my body does not conform to a single ideal of "health" or "fitness".

As a fat person I have to fight to get adequate health care. Not beacuse I don't have access (which is an amazing privilege) but because on a glance someone in whom I am supposed to trust my life, says whatever your problem is, lose weight it'll get better. Those same professionals will try and prescribe me drugs that may do everything from make me shit my pants to helping me have a heart attack. But because it's in the sole name of weightloss, all that becomes irrelevant and people tell me I'm being overly sensitive or whining.

For no good goddamn reason simply based on the appearance of my body I am open to and vulnerable to attacks on my morals, my eating habits, my very life. Not because anyone knows in any real way how I live my life or any damn thing but because I have a fat ass.

I'm not generally a hardline kind of person.

That being said, I will absolutely say if you make excuses for the things Maura Kelly said because they are "opinions" fuck you.

NO really fuck you and fuck you for supporting a system and culture that is actively harmful to me and a whole lot of people.

The thing about opinions as the adage goes they are like assholes. I don't want Ms. Kelly fired. I don't want punitive action taken against her. What I want is for her and people who think like her or agree with her to take a moment to step out of their own ego.

To think about the fact that as Marianne said on Tumblr I think: words mean things.

Think about the fact that no matter what difference someone has, it does not give you free reign to shit on them metaphorically because you don't approve.

Think about how this kind of societal level hate of a person not for any personal or moral reason can infect people (children dieting at younger and younger ages, people in the news who starve their infants, suicides etc) and how it contributes to bullying.

And what bullying is.

Think about what the use in blindly demonizing someone because they don't fit your aesthetics or because you don't want to sleep with them.

Ms. Kelly stated in her apology that she didn't mean to bully and I frankly don't believe her.

As someone who is also an author, I am very well aware of what words I choose to use and how I choose to use them.

If you don't intend to come off as bullying, don't be a bully. I honestly don't think it's difficult.

If you don't intend to abuse or insult, don't be abusive or insulting.

This is all just so goddamn sad.

Maura Kelly makes me sad.

The people railing about free speech (in my opinion that is not even an issue) make me sad.

The people who are pissed that fat people are being visible and saying HEY don't fuck with us make me sad.

The people who have made it into a fat vs thin thing make me sad.

It hurts me in a deep personal way because it is so unnecessary.

It makes me sad that it's still necessary to explain to the public why bullying for whatever reason is not good. Shaming and dehumanizing anyone does not make them change. It's dangerous and as we have seen recently fucking fatal.

It's not just a fat issue it's a human issue because guess what you could be next.

And nobody needs to be next.

I'm spent. I just can't with this shit anymore today.

Homo Out.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

All aboard the fail boat.

This article on Marie Claire's blog is, quite frankly 90% of the reason I like to stay away from mainstream media.

My favorite bit is as follows:

Now, don't go getting the wrong impression: I have a few friends who could be called plump. I'm not some size-ist jerk.


(As an aside I am a little peeved that anyone gets paid to write this shit.)

It seems to me that Maura Kelly like so many other people don't know what the word jerk means. So for reference:

Webster's says this:

Slang. a contemptibly naive, fatuous, foolish, or inconsequential person.


So while professing her not-jerkiness we are treated to statements like:

So anyway, yes, I think I'd be grossed out if I had to watch two characters with rolls and rolls of fat kissing each other ... because I'd be grossed out if I had to watch them doing anything.

So you're not sizeist at all, nope you're no jerk but you think fat people are ever so terrible that your delicate senses could not deal with them "doing anything".

Yes, Maura that is being a jerk.

It also contradicts your admonition that if the fatties would only move and learn how to read labels, they wouldn't be so fat and gross and you'd feel better.

So because someone else's body who has nothing to do with you, is not up to your personal aesthetic standards, oh no it's all bad right?

That's not jerky at all.

And about that obesity costs us all so much money.

This argument is disingenuous at best and deadly at worst.

I find this argument disingenuous because I have never seen someone who proffers obesity as an expensive epidemic treat say someone who runs on concrete and later suffers cartilage loss or other joint injuries the same way.

I have never heard anyone who proffers this argument say the same about someone who perhaps like me is not healthy on a vegetarian diet and does it anyway.

I'll give you an example.

The other day a couple of people standing behind me were talking about running. The man said something about having just had his third ankle surgery and that he was off of his physical therapy to do a marathon. The woman he was speaking to lauded his "bravery" and asked how he'd hurt his ankles the first three times.

He responded that the first time had been while training for a you guessed it marathon and that he had returned to training before he was ready and lo and behold re-injured himself not once, not twice, but three times.

The woman ooh'd and aww'd over his "dedication".

How is that behavior seemingly okay, but me just walking around being fat is absolutely not?

If I never have injuries that I cause myself, why am I the enemy here? Why do I get stuck with some imaginary bill?

Thus I find this argument to be bullshit.

Furthermore it's damaging. If you spend so much time complaining and blaming a set of people for all the worlds fucking health woes, it stands to reason that those people would seek less health care. A lot of people take that bullshit really fucking personally.

And I don't care what size you are, going without medial treatment can be deadly at the worst and best case scenario (barring never having any health problems) is living with suffering or getting so catastrophically ill that yes, your treatment become hugely expensive.

Maura, I will level with you. Yes you personally. Your cavalier attitude and amazingly ego centric idea that you're not being a jerk is sad. You are the type of person that angers me far more than your average troll because you are blithely hurtful.

But it's just like obese people not kind of plump people so it's all right right?

People like you who assume that you can talk about people however you want because, oh hey you're being ever so helpful, you know what stop.

Yes, Maura you are being a sizeist jerk. You're also being an ableist, classist jerk.

(I'm happy to give you some nutrition and fitness suggestions if you need them — but long story short, eat more fresh and unprocessed foods, read labels and avoid foods with any kind of processed sweetener in them whether it's cane sugar or high fructose corn syrup, increase the amount of fiber you're getting, get some kind of exercise for 30 minutes at least five times a week, and do everything you can to stand up more — even while using your computer — and walk more. I admit that there's plenty that makes slimming down tough, but YOU CAN DO IT! Trust me. It will take some time, but you'll also feel so good, physically and emotionally. A nutritionist or personal trainer will help — and if you can't afford one, visit your local YMCA for some advice.)

Do you have any clue that the world is not filled with people exactly like you? That some of your readers may not be able to walk more no matter what they want to do. That some of your readers could be disabled and therefor your advice is really just a kick in the crotch? Did you ever think that there are people who don't have access to a lot of the ever so good foods you talk about? Or who cannot eat a diet higher in fiber? Who cannot stand up while using their computers? Who cannot afford a nutritionist or personal trainer?

Did you ever stop to think that your condescending attitude is not what people come to Marie Claire for?

Do you have any clue at all that there are a hell of a lot of people who after the things you said are not going to trust you.

To answer your question yes you're a jerk. Thanks for solidifying my reasons to never read Marie Claire again.

I am quite frankly disgusted. I do hope this person learns a lesson from this and looks up from her own navel long enough to become aware that people like her aren't the only people in the world and that the media erasure of fat people make us all cease to exist nor will that stop us from doing things where people with delicate sensibilities can see.

Homo Out.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Yes I am fancy.

So after my epic bout of upset yesterday I talked it over with a friend, did some processing and nailed the actual cause of my upset.

Yes I was upset that this item that as a fat woman is a rare glitter pooping unicorn thing, was not going to be attainable.

However the more over arching issue is this.

And yes this is really fucking personal thus it's really difficult to talk about publicly for me but here we go.

I don't really always take care of myself first. I take care of my partner, I make sure the bills are paid, I get shit done.

Unfortunately Getting Shit Done often means that I go without.

You all really have no idea how much of a hard thing it was for me to go ahead and just spend 75 goddamn dollars on pants. Not because I didn't need pants, I did really -really- need some pants but my brain always defaults to me feeling guilty and irresponsible for having nice things.

On a deeper level I often feel like I haven't worked hard enough to deserve nice things thus if I get nice things I'm being irresponsible, a shitty adult and over all fucking things up in some way.

This is honestly you guys a huge huge source of anxiety in my life. I punish myself for what on the inside I feel are petty indulgences.

This intersects with fashion because I really do love clothes. I love fashion, I love glamor, I LOVE (as in crotch tingling love) boots I love doing myself up and feeling like I look fancy.

This as you might imagine clashes directly with my feelings of guilt and anxiety about having or deserving nice things.

Almost every thing I buy for myself whether it's a necessity like tampons or an indulgence like over the knee boots, I immediately can tell you how much of the phone or electric bill that will pay, how much food that can buy, how much saving that 4$ because shit really might happen.

Part of this is rooted in having spent a lot of time being just that poor. Of having to choose between having toilet paper or food, paying the rent or having new socks or bus fare.

If you've read me for a long time you already know that this is something I struggle mightily with. I am working on it but it's that one huge issue that can fuck me up at will to the point where I just can't.

I can't and then I don't have nice things. And then I'm upset because I don't have new pants or socks or whatever, and I'm resentful that I feel this way. And then I'm angry at myself for getting so upset in the first place because I Have Shit To DO.

This feeling is a product of a lot of influences. It comes from having to keep my shit together because I had to go to work, or I you know Had Shit to Do.

I also have to mention that for me I'd rather fritter away about fat and things because I have had such a problem in my life feeling okay to say when I'm not okay.

Even probably six months ago I wouldn't have made this post or yesterdays post. I would have been too embarrassed or I would have made it about the larger issue to keep it from being personal and leaving me emotionally naked.

So there you have it.

At the root of it I was upset because I have an opportunity to make myself feel fancy and I felt like it was getting fucked up in ways outside of my control and major angry ensued.

I feel better today.

My Awesome Partner Uniballer (for those of you who are new Uniballer is my partner, he is a cis dude with one nut hence the name Uniballer. In public I also call him Frank, Bob, Silent Bob and Hempknight none of those are his actual name) did some hunting around and talking to fat drag queens and found me boots.

Right now I am feeling pretty fancy.

Yes I said it.

So there you have it.

I may or may not post over the weekend. It all depends.

If I don't have a marvelous and lovely weekend my darlings.

Homo Out.

PS- you have homework. do something that makes you feel fancy. Have a wank, take a nap, do something that makes you feel good.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Wait what is this shit fuckery?

First of all, to keep this from being head exploding rage filled watch this:

Burn this Mother Fucker Down.

It's my favorite scene from Harold and Kumar go to WhiteCastle and very much shows how I'm feeling right now.

Basically this bit:
Ding-dong! May I interject for a second? As a Burger Shack employee for the past three years, if there's one thing I've learned, it's that if you're craving White Castle, the burgers here just don't cut it. In fact, just thinking about those tender little White Castle burgers with those little, itty-bitty grilled onions that just explode in your mouth like flavor crystals every time you bite into one... just makes me want to burn this motherfucker down. Come on, Pookie, let's burn this motherfucker down! Come on, Pookie! Let's burn it, Pookie! Let's burn this motherfucker down! Let's burn it down! Let's burn it! So you guys maybe should just suck it up and go to White Castle.

Right now I kind of want to run around screaming FAT RAGE FAT RAGE FAT RAGE.

What precipitated this you are probably wondering?

Torrid's um..well Torrid.

So I got my new pants. I wound up with the Black basic twill pant.

I purchased these in a 16 because I assumed they would have a tiny rise (check) and I didn't want to have the same problem I had with the last pair of pants I got from there.

The positives:
The pants do have a wee rise but fit ok. They are overall slightly too big, in a size 16 I would call them more flared than bootcut. But for a pair of plain black pants they are ok. I do really like the jean styling though that is nice.

The Cons:
The twill is very thin. I got mine on sale for 29$ and they are (right now) normally 48$. If I wasn't talking about Torrid i would expect higher quality.

These are not really going to keep me all that warm in winter.

I also picked up a pair of Jeggings in black in a size 1.

These actually feel more substantial than the twill pants. I love the stretch, love the fit. I'm short and they do scrunch a tiny bit at the ankle like in the catalog picture. I actually really kind of love them.

The rise. The rise is mostly taken up by waistband and I don't really like that in a lower rise pull on pant. Also the ankle holes are tiny. I was able to get my foot through them but people with bigger feet/ankles may have issues.

SO because I really do love the Jegging my Winter aesthetic (okay here comes the rage) in my head became OTK boots, leggings, jeggings, sweaters awesome right?


So because Torrid had swooped back into my good graces with the Jeggings and barely with the twill pants, I was planning on doing a pretty big order next month.

I had a look around and noticed that the Ashly knee high (or on me since I'm short OTK) boot had been put back on the website but there were only 10/11 in stock when I looked. I love that boot and prefer it to the Annie but was open to buying Annie just in case.

Like any on a mission Fat Girl shopping I called to inquire about whether or not these would be back in stock any time soon. The friendly cs rep dropped a bomb on me.

Apparently (pro tip Torrid shoppers) if something is gone on the website typically it's going to stay gone.


Wait so a very popular on trend item that is clearly selling like fucking crack is being pulled at the beginning of the season?

The fuck?

Of course my first reaction was upset because where the fuck else am I ever going to find OTK boots, that are flat in a size that will fit me?

Then after I thought for a bit this is a prime example of created scarcity as happens in Fat Fashion all the fucking time.

This is the same style of shit fuckery many big box stores pull.

Something sells like gangbusters then mysteriously disappears, so we keep going in hopes that this thing will come back, all too often we get another thing but it's never as good as the first thing and costs twice as much.

So yes, Pookie let's burn this mother fucker down.

This whole situation here has in effect entirely ruined my plans for my Winter wardrobe. And because other retailers just don't really make this product, I'm shit out of luck.

For those of my homies who aren't fat let me reframe it so maybe you can understand why I'm so upset.

Let's say you need/really want an awesome special pan for your kitchen. What you need is a particular size that while not rare isn't typically found if you just run down to the local store. So you search and voila, there it is.

You are so happy, you start planning meals and awesome things then well it's just gone.

It's gone and you can't change the size of your stove. You can't figure out how to make what you were wanting without that pan and you have no options.

Now let's also pretend that you take cooking really seriously and it's very important to you on a personal level. How would you feel?

Furthermore for me personally I don't always have the opportunity to buy special things. Boots, clothes whatever. I will and now I can't use it.

Come on retailers.

Work with us here.

Yes I understand that I can keep searching and I might find something suitable. It's just so goddamn frustrating. Given the fact that at this point more inclusive sizing would cover a lot of people who would like to spend money I just don't see the point in continuing this scarcity thing.

Being forced to settle just really fucking blows.

And this is why I want to run around yelling FAT RAGE FAT RAGE.

So this sums up today:

So there you have my angry.

My homies, feel free to commiserate. I think tomorrow there will be more angry fat shopper. This time about beautiful indie artist tshirts.

Homo Out.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

God damn it.

Pardon my unintended hiatus.

I've been in a weird headpsace and almost everything I've tried to write down in an way starts out okay then has devolved into what roughly translates as:


I'm mostly over it so can we talk about clothing for a minute?

I decided recently I'm going to get rid of all of my ill fitting pants which is to say almost all of them.

When it comes to pants I am very picky. I'm not a huge fan of denim. I like bootcut but not flared. I need a rise that will hit me round the belly button area for optimal comfort.

My issue with pants regardless of what size I've been has been the fact that I have big thighs, yes my hams are large. They were big when I weighed 110 and they are big now. Also I do not have a very round booty. So I need some stretch but not too much.

When I was younger my solution to the pants issue was to wear none or to wear mens pants that were really baggy so I didn't have to worry overmuch about the fit. I don't like wearing mens clothing these days save for the rare tie and button up and/or cardigan.

My top two contenders right now are the Black Twill bootcut pants from Torrid. And the plus size Perfect Khakis- bootcut version from Old navy.

I own a pair of size 16 Old Navy plus size pants and my ass absolutely swims in them. Matter of fact I actually kind of really hate them.

I used to own Torrid' plain black twill pants which fit me perfectly at the time. However I'm dubious about buying from torrid because the last three non-accessory things I got there were just so meh.

I'm really torn. Twill is warmer than khaki but I already have an idea about the ON quality which could very likely be way better than the Torrid quality.

It's a dilemma and I really don't want to waste time and/or money.

Speaking of wasting money. Y'all. I'm gonna have to buy the over the knee boots from Torrid on Black Friday. The quality like everything else at Torrid has gone way down hill but I love them so much.

This is one of those things that Marianne and Lesley have discussed on FatCast.

This is one of the shitty things about being a fat person sometimes.

Especially when you're a person with a particular aesthetic it can be horrifying when you know something is probably going to be crap quality but where else are you going to find it? If you listen both Marianne and Lesley can remember specific items of clothing from different stores and that is something I share.

Personally my big issue is that I don't really have mainstream aesthetics so when those holy shit where will I ever find that again in my size moments happen, they sting. Most often they sting because I can't afford whatever it is.

I started this on Friday and am sitting here conditioning my hair Sunday and figured I'd finish it.

Getting back to pants I remembered that I have a pair of Old Navy Perfect Khakis. They fit like magic in the ass/thighs but the low waist is a bit too small. Therefore I only wear them with long shirts. Because of that those are out. I am fairly certain that a 16 in those would make my ass sad.

But exciting news. Because I have an excellent and understanding partner he budgeted out a (to me) shitload of money so I can have brand new from the store pants.

Big deal for me.

I waffled about it but settled on the OMG THEY BETTER BE FUCKING AWESOME Torrid plain bootcut black twill pants. I seriously wore out three pairs of these and my last pair was unwearable as of spring. This is my favorite pant and I have emailed them begging for them to be brought back a few times a year for like three years.

I also bought a pair of jeggings. In Black of course. Those I plot to wear with the Annie OTK boots from Torrid as well because I have been lusting for them since they appeared and Uniballer promised I can has around Black Friday.

Our anniversary is in a couple of weeks but we're going to wait to do something so we can both get cute new outfits.

LOL at myself forever this is from Sunday and it's now Tuesday.

Moving it along.

Okay let me stop bullshitting.

I am still not sleeping that well on the regular.

This means that I spend a lot of time feeling exhausted, mean, angry and crazy.

Lots of angry and mean and crazy.

It's not really awesome.

See the thing is I sleep but it's not restful REM sleep. Or I get a little REM sleep but not enough to keep me from feeling crazy and mean.

When I feel like this I somehow convince myself that everyone hates me and that I should STFU about it.

Rationally I know not everyone hates me, but it's kind of difficult.

That being what it is, it becomes increasingly difficult for me to blog. Conversely (or perversely maybe) when I feel like this I go balls out with other writings.

The upshot is I'm going to be sporadic until I can get some rest.

I have no plans on getting medical help for the insomnia. My insomnia is bad enough that I am scared shitless of becoming addicted to sleep medications or using them long term. There are a lot of sleep medications that were prescribed as safe for daily use and as people got older bad things happened and that scares me.

So I'll keep on doing what I know to do. Some natural remedies, some nights just not sleeping.

Thank you for listening.

I love you my Homies.

More as I am able.

Homo Out.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Want my support?

Tis the season for fundraising.

There are a lot of indie zines, bands, etc that I enjoy and a lot of them want my support via things like buying Tshirts.

For instance The Rumpus. I've been reading the Rumpus since it started. I love it. They have some neat Tshirts and I would in fact enjoy putting their name on my chest for advertisement.

However, they like eleventy million other places don't have plus size tshirts and no one I've asked seems to know measurements for shirts or if there is a possibility of plus size offerings.


Here's how I feel about this on a few levels.

On a heart level my feelings are hurt because I am excluded. That is my immediate reaction. My feelings are hurt because apparently I can't show my support since I'm a fat girl.

Then I feel like well maybe they don't want fat girls support. At which point I feel like, okay well fuck you too.

Then I calm down and reel in the butthirt and think about okay, well maybe I can ask about more inclusive sizing.

Now how I feel following that depends on answers. If X persons says, no we just don't have any. Okay. If person doesn't acknowlege my question at all I am pissed off. If the answer is to buy a mens shirt, I am pissed off. If the answer is the butthurt well we can't cater to everybody I also get pissed off.

So to skip all of that here are some free tips.

If you want to sell tshirts to raise money that's awesome. Be aware that most likely not all of your fans or supporters are going to be small people. I've seen a lot of people selling tees for various reasons and many of them seem to be under the impression that no lady types* seem to exist or would be interested.

That being what it is, dear people who want to fundraise via tee shirt. Most likely a good number of your fans will buy tee shirts anyway but will feel let down because you don't seem to think they exist.

And yes, that is the impression folks like me get. If you seem to display no knowledge or thought about there being bodily diversity among your supporters, some of us who don't fit into the XS-XL mold will on some level be disappointed and hurt.

I realize that it's not the most awesome thing to be so butthurt about things like this. I also realize that in terms of big picture it's not that big of a deal.

However, it is a big deal to me.

It is a big deal when you really want to show your support for X person/thing/idea and you're seemingly automatically excluded.

So here is me asking that if you do engage in fundraiser via wearables, do some research. Ask your supplier for measurements and list them. If you cannot accommodate larger sizes say so up front.

Speaking of fund raising.

My essay shop is closed right now while I figure out an easier method of delivery. Etsy is an option but, I don't own a printer and can't offer a printed/shipped version of anything. Unfortunately, I can't really afford to spend money on any venture right now.

Fact is I have some larger than usual financial things that need to happen. I need new contacts and my insurance being what it is, this is going to cost a pretty penny. I would like a new winter coat but yeah.

I do need to do some fund raising myself but going about it has proved more difficult than I'd expected. I don't know what exactly I'm going to do/how I am going to accomplish making enough spare $$ for things that may not be absolute necessities but would be nice to have.

I owe some folks emails and I promise I will send them. I'm a wee bit not in a communicating kind of mood right now.

Also one last thing, I'm choosing between spreadshirt, zazzle and cafepress because I have tshirt designs. Do y'all have experience with any of those/ If so share. Fit, materials, etc.

Okay now I have to go get my hustle on because I need some paypal funds.

Homo Out.

Wednesday, October 06, 2010

Stay Alive #2. Anger.

I'm going to try and do these every day this week.

Today I want to talk about anger.

As Aunty Kate very astutely pointed out yesterdayMonday, that was righteous anger.

When I was a child and a young adult I did not know how to be angry on my own behalf. I could be angry when someone else got picked on or hurt, I could be angry that my school districts curriculum was lacking to me. I could work up a foaming frothing lather of an anger.

But never for myself.

I could rally and verbally rip someone a new one but never in defense of myself.

I learned along the way (wrongly in my mind) that I had no right to be upset. that it didn't matter if people hurt me or if I just felt it.

Let me stop here to make a little confession.

This has been harder to write than the other entry. I started it yesterday but couldn't finish.

So the plain truth of it is that for a long time I did not believe that I was worth fighting for. I did not believe that all that righteous anger I had over other things, for others could apply to me too.

For a long time even though I pretended, I felt worthless. I felt useless and completely unneeded in this world.

Once I figured out that yes, yes I am worthy.

Yes I deserve to try to have the life I want. I deserve to be happy and be in this world it got better.

And I got angry for myself.

I got angry and that is where my fuck you attitude came from.

I got so fed up with a world that felt like all it wanted to do was tear me apart I got really fucking pissed off.

I realized that no one was going to make it better for me. I realized that if no one was going to fight for me I had to fight for myself.

I decided that the fucking world that pulled at me was not going to have me.

The world cannot have me. The world in this context being the people who picked on me, the people who didn't care, the people who ripped me off, the people who metaphorically shit on me could not have me.

I'm not a really competitive person by nature but I am an angry one.

I started channeling my rage into survival. Survival to spite every fucking thing that said I shouldn't.

I decided fuck you.

Fuck the system that does not and will not ever work in my favor.

I decided I would live.

Honestly, sometimes it's been so hard I wanted to just lay over and let whatever happen. So I won't tell you that things just get better because sometimes they don't.

Sometimes you have to bite and claw your way through. Sometimes you have to fight dirty. Sometimes you have to as Auntie Kate said, just make it better.

Sometimes it is the little things that make it better. Sometimes it's trying to get through the next five minutes or the next five seconds.

That's ok.

None of us get the fairy tale.

We have to create our own happy endings and dreams.

Sometimes in order to stay alive you must leave behind your family and the place you come from.

Sometimes it means you have to go it alone.

I know it hurts. It hurts and it's so fucking hard but you can't give your life away.

You deserve a chance to make a life. Your life doesn't belong to them. It doesn't belong to the assholes who tease you, it doesn't belong to your parents, it doesn't belong even to your partner it's yours.

I know how hard it is. And I know how hopeless things can be but there is help.

A few tips.

Use social networks. Find like minded people. It doesn't matter if you're shy, if you're socially inept, if you're gay/straight/trans/whatever. There are people out in the big wide world who will get it or at least empathize.

If you can read this, you can do it.

There are message boards, groups on facebook, etc etc. Give it a shot it's worth it.

If you need help right now or just want someone to listen here's what you do in the US.

Most counties in the US have general information lines that you can call for free.

Use this google search string to find yours, I'll use my county King as an example.

King County (put your county name there or city name) crisis line. Here is my search.

Choose one of the options and look for an email address, contact number etc and call. Please call.

There is also the Trevor Project for gay, lesbian, transgender, bisexual and questioning youth.

If you feel that you are in immediate danger such as from family use that county or city search again and someone can help you.

If someone is hurting you or beating you up call 911. Don't be afraid. Get help, stay alive.

Here are some more resources. These people are not here to judge you they are there to help. Be brave. Take your life back.

Need help? In the U.S., call 1-800-273-8255
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

National suicide prevention number for the deaf- 1-800-799-4TTY (4889)
Deaf Hotline

National Runaway hotline- Call 1-800-RUNAWAY

National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1−800−799−SAFE(7233)

No matter what anyone tells you, no matter how bad you feel your life is worth something.

Your life is worth the bullshit of going through all the bad stuff and coming out the other side.

Stay Alive.

Homo Out.

PS if any of my readers have additional tips or other places to seek help please leave links or info.

Monday, October 04, 2010

Stay Alive.

If you are on twitter you may or may not be familiar with the hashtag #stayalive I became familiar with it through Auntie Kate (oh HI SweetKittenToes) and use it fairly often. And warning you guys, there could be triggering stuff in here re: bullying, rape, etc. Be warned.

Matter of fact watch this from her blog.

There have been many times in my life where I either actively wanted to die or just did not care one way or the other.

I am 33 and I am still alive.

Almost every birthday I reflect on the many friends I've lost. Some to addiction, to AIDS, to suicide, to murder.

Every birthday I wake up and no matter how crapass the day is I realize that I am still fucking alive.

Staying alive for me has meant a big fuck you to many people/things.

It's a big fuck you to people who tormented me when I was a child for no good goddamn reason.

It's a big fuck you to the girl who walked up to me, slapped me and said I hope you get raped because I had enormous boobs when I was 13.

It's a big fuck you to the adults who catcalled me when I was 13.

It's a big fuck you to the adults who saw my misery and tears and ignored me.

It's a big fuck you to every person who ripped me off when I had nothing.

It's a big fuck you to every single one of you mother fuckers who questioned my Blackness.

It's a big fuck you to being desperate and hungry.

Fuck. You.

It's a big fuck you to the doctors who let me suffer because according to them insomnia isn't a good reason to seek care.

I am still fucking here.

I am still alive.

At some point about 8-9 years ago I decided fuck you I'm living.

Fuck you.


One too many disappointments, too much time spent thinking I was not good enough, smart enough, pretty enough or deserving of a good life.

Fuck that.

I may not always be happy. Sometimes life is really fucking hard. But I'm still alive.

As much of a hippy as I am at heart I'm also implacable about this.

I will survive all of it. I am a soldier. I will make it through because I have to.

Not for you, not for my partner but for myself.

This entry is for everyone hurting. All of you who are afraid and in pain. For everyone who's questioning the value of living. Everyone who's getting bullied right this instant.

Don't let the world take you out.

No matter how bad it gets whether it's chemical (as in organic brain function type depression) or your life is just really fucking hard, know that there is at least one person taht gets it and wants you to survive.

I can't promise that it gets easier. I'm 33 and some days it's all I can do to get through the day.

I can't promise it'll be candy and puppies.

But we can all try.

We can all fight.

Every day you live and survive the bullshit it's your victory.

I will close with my theme song.

Lyrics for those who don't like punk music:
My War- Black Flag

My war you're one of them
You say that you're my friend
But you're one of them

You don't want to see me live
You don't want me to give
'cause you're one of them

My war you're one of them
You say that you're my friend
But you're one of them

I might not know what a friend is
All I know is what you're not
'cause you're one of them

My war you're one of them
You say that you're my friend
But you're one of them

I have a prediction, it lives in my brain
It's with me every day, it drives me insane
I feel it in my heart, that if I has a gun
I feel it in my heart, I'd wanna kill some
I feel it in my heart, the end will come
Come on!!

My war you're one of them
You say that you're my friend
But you're one of them

Tell me that I'm wrong
Try to sing me your ego song
You're one of them

My war you're one of them
You say that you're my friend
But you're one of them

My war.

More lyrics:

I love you my homies and haters.

Tomorrow a follow up. A peek at the actual core of yours truly.

I really kind of wish I had pictures of something in my insides to use for that but I don't. I KNOW it's weird.

Note to self: more photos of yourself giving the finger.

Homo Out.

Friday, October 01, 2010

I can't deal so let's talk about my hair.

The title says it all.

I really cannot emotionally deal with um, life in general right now so we need to discuss The Fluffy AkA my hair.

I talked about my hair a couple of years ago in this post and today I have some new views and feelings.

First a little video I made awhile back. It's just a slide show but it does tell a story.

Between then and now I've gone natural. *GASP*

Now for those who aren't aware going natural means I've ceased to process my hair chemically to change the texture.

In the Black community there is often rancorous discussion about whether or not to go natural. About whether or not chemically altering your hair is an action spurred by internal loathing of one's Blackness.

For me, this has not been the case.

No matter which way I've cut it, this is just not something I have really had an issue with. I love and celebrate my blackness because there is no other alternative.

This was not a political decision for me. It honestly wasn't even a decision as these things go it just kind of happened.

I've learned that my hair is as vari-textured as I recall. From almost straight in spots to really kinky. Waves, a few curls. And my hair is astonishingly thick. Bot the individual hairs are thick and they are very dense on my head.

I did not remember that my hair easily straightens without heat, but not in a laying down kind of way. When my hair is well moisturized and I wrap it in my scarf nightly as I do, usually in the morning it's pretty straight. Straight and fluffy.

Now it doesn't stay that way. It's humid and moist in Seattle thus my hair gets fluffy.

And it's all good.

I'm still really styling challenged. I wear my hair up in a very school marm like bun. I've watched as my bun has gotten bigger and fuller. Right now I can just get my hand around it.

I'm also far more relaxed about compliments on my hair.

A few months ago I had done this elaborate (for me)bun with twisted locks of hair secured with pins (that worked but my hair tried to eat two) a White man on the bus tapped me on the shoulder and said, "your hair looks like a pastry and it's awesome."

Possibly the weirdest hair comment I've ever gotten and I found it delightful because on some inspection he was absolutely right it did look like a pastry.

And that's okay with me.

I am in the camp of people who enjoy a non creepy compliment. I talked about this a long while back and I haven't changed my mind.

I'll revisit that some other time.

Okay back to the point here.

As I've probably mentioned I am often working on figuring out what I do and don't need to believe. With my hair winding up natural, I have discovered that I don't need to engage about my hair.

I don't care.

No really I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks about whether my hair is natural, relaxed or what.

I was getting there in my last hair post but privately I still had the angst sometimes.

Now I don't.


And it feels wonderful.

Not as wonderful as my hair feels though. My hair is fluffy silky soft bliss.

And this has led me (haha check me out sneaking in some intersectionality) to yet another Duh moment.

At some point I realized that this non-decision about my hair is a part of a larger move towards not even engaging.

I'm not going to engage in arguments about what is and is not healthy for me with anyone who has not lived in my body or who demonstrates a marked lack of interest as to what might be healthy for me.

And this includes doctors. This includes strangers in Meatspace and Internets land. I'm just not going to justify myself.

I will engage in dialogue with people who give the impression that they are paying attention. That they are interested in hearing what I have to say.

I will probably do a post about bullying at some point. I'd like to talk about some that I experienced as a youngster but I haven't worked out how to do that without it turning into something hurtful for others to read. I have issues about that. But I will try because it's important.

And lastly a couple of pictures of my fluffy as she is now.


That is my soaking wet hair right after a wash. It wasn't really that tangled it's just that wild y'all.


And that is how I look quite often when I get home from work and take down my bun. As time goes on when my hair is down it gets fluffier and fluffier and it's fucking awesome.

The color is courtesy of a few years of regular hennaing, which I will probably do this weekend.

And a last thought. It feels really wonderfully freeing to have this photographic record of me and my hairs. It feels nifty.

So that's all my darlings. I'm really fucking tired. I forgot to sedate myself last night and consequently didn't really sleep. A whole other post.

Please be kind to each other. Given how rough the last week in the news has been maybe try a little harder. It's important.

Homo Out.

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