I wish there was a way to tell you this without sounding like I’m just picking on myself (which I normally do endlessly and without shame, so that right there should tell you something), but I have gigantic arms. Yes, I am a fat woman, but they are disproportionately large, even so. I’ve tried to imagine why this could be, and how surely there must be some kind of evolutionary benefit, but nothing beyond the ability to naturally hang glide comes to mind, and I haven’t thrown myself off a cliff. Just yet. This year I decided once and for all to try and love my body and accept the love that my partner has for it, but nearly 30 years of deep shame is hard to erase permanently, and the temporary relief that hard drinking brings is not without it’s own consequences.
Around 6 years ago, I lost a lot of weight (over 50 pounds), and I learned a few things. The first is that, sadly, it’s true, most people are way nicer to you when you lose weight. The second is that being thinner didn’t make me feel much better about myself, at least outside of the dressing room. The third thing I learned is that no matter how much weight I lost, my arms refused to join the party. Of course, now that I’ve gained back all that weight and then some, my arms are participating with glee, growing to proportions that ensure I will never comfortably wear such seasonal trends as tailored blazers or sleeveless shirts.
Well, when it comes to sleeveless shirts I’ve been giving it my all to get over this fear. I mean, everything in my feminist, fat-positive soul tells me I should be flaunting my voluminous limbs for all to see, but again, changing one’s lifelong feelings about themselves is no easy feat. I randomly had this idea that fully growing out my armpit hair would help me feel more liberated, but it’s not working and sort of itches. Now I’m too lazy to shave it because I know I’ll have to pre trim or risk busting my razor. Serious backfire.
On a backfiring side note: This Christmas I asked for a bunch of Jockey granny panties as part of my “No Ill-fitting Clothing or Shoes Campaign 2011″ [working title]. This was another total failure because it turns out that, while offering unsurpassed ass coverage, those underpants have these little side seams on the waist that dig into my flesh. Back to wearing thongs, I guess. I’ve always found them more comfortable, but I switched because I wanted to wear all cotton, plus I didn’t feel awesome about being THAT LADY in line at Target buying the 2XL thong three pack.
Anyway, usually with sleeveless things I wear a tiny black bolero of some kind and often I have to giggle/panic about how that looks. It’s not like it’s a fucking arm invisibility cloak. It’s two giant arm hams wrapped nice and tightly in black polyester! The thing is, I know the best and most fashion-forward look would be to get the fuck over it and realize that nobody gives a shit about my huge (I mean, seriously, enormous) arms. And anyone who does, including me, is kind of being an asshole.
if you knew the kind of emotional assault that is occurring in my brain, you would not be mad at me for not posting so much lately. i can’t discuss that though because i almost kind of feel like it’s okay to keep some aspects of my life private. crazy, huh?
moving on, here are some crumbs:
1) this bluetooth thing is driving me nuts! i am so addicted to my phone that i must wear it at all times in my car, but now i live with the constant terror that it is going to answer a call or call someone as i am belting out the lyrics to “she’s got you” by patsy cline. do you know anyone who can resist singing along to a patsy cline song? cause i don’t.
2) as i get older, i am noticing more and more funny little quirks about myself. if you will remember, i wrote a letter to god a while back expressing some of my concerns about how much time i have left before these “quirks” become a very clear mental illness, but for now i am able to find humor in it still, which is key. for example, i realized recently that before i eat anything these days i have to cut it in half. this one has been building for a while, as i have always dissected and inspected my food, but the deliberate halving of things has never been so absolutely necessary. now if i only i could manage to eat just the one half. sigh.
3) speaking of eating habits, i am currently in the process of reading “the south beach diet super charged.” several years ago the first version of the book helped me a lot and now i am hoping this one will be equally inspiring. i try not to support the “dieting industry” as i am a feminist and i have been in and out of weight watchers since i was about 8 years-old to no avail, but i did find south beach to be a good guide for thinking about what one eats and how one lives. i dunno, we’ll see. i’m totally eating one of the cupcakes i made for jenny’s birthday right now. chocolate chip with pink lemonade frosting and sprinkles, cut in half.
4) oh yeah, happy birthday, cancers! cancers are some of my fav peeps around and i have so many of you to love. shout-outs to joe (cusp), miranda, jenny, cheryl, tarah… i’m pretty sure i’m forgetting some, but i love you all.
5) i found this awesome pink desk on the side of the road in echo park the other day and i’m really excited about getting it into my room. now i just have to clean my room. SO MUCH WORK!
6) there’s this hairball in my shower that i am just WAY too lazy and grossed-out to remove so i just move it to the side with my toe and hope someone else will pick it up. but now every time i wash my hair i look in the drain to see if i am losing a ton of hair and i see the big hairball and panic! i know the simple solution is the pick the damn thing up, but i don’t wanna.
i guess on that note, i should go do some stuff. gonna read south beach for an hour then maybe check out craigslist again. i will probably clean my room tonight and i am going to try try try to write a blog for tomorrow!
let me start by saying i feel a bit overwhelmed because i haven’t written for so long. you must understand that i write to you all day in my head. every time the breeze blows a grain of sand into my eye, every time i go into a bathroom that is out of hand soap, and every time i accidentally think of miley cyrus in a sexual way (so wrong), i think “that’s going in the blog!”
so, as you can imagine, a week-long hiatus, particularly during a week in which i went out nearly every night, the supreme court of california overturned the ban on gay marriage, and i saw one of the best live shows i’ve ever seen, i have a lot to say. oh yeah, and i was kidding about miley, although i do love blasting “see you again” from my car, and it gets some weird looks from other adults. whatever, that song rules.
okay, for starters, there is a new queer night in los angeles called Wildness, which takes place at a dive bar in korea town called the silver platter on tuesday nights. the only bad things i can say about this night is that the bar is beer and wine only and that it gets a little crowded. seriously, it’s totally “off the hook” as they used to say like, four years ago. what do they say now? can anyone help me be cool? email me at email@example.com if you can. anyhoo, the night is basic in that it consists of djs, a dance floor, beer, crappy bathroom situations, etc. what makes it unique is the crowd, which is so diverse i don’t even know where to start. the best way to describe it i guess would be “art fag” though that doesn’t really say anything does it? let me just say that the patrons of this particular club cross all gender, orientation, ethnic, and age lines, but what they have in common, from the locals to the lookie-loos, is the desire to dance up a storm, check out awesome performances (last week was sister mantos), dress to impress (in so many ways), and just be… free i guess. i know it sounds sorta hippie-ish, but i’m into it. i’ve been kind of bah-humbug lately, but i would go to this every week if i had it in me. last week there was a limo parked out front where you could lounge with your friends and buy $2 tequila shots. at one point, this guy burst into the limo shouting “who has the poppers?!?!?” no, he was not joking. he never did find those poppers, but it made me feel good knowing he had them at some point. disco isn’t dead, my friends.
wednesday night i went to a benefit show for my friend vanessa, whose bicycle-cum-art piece was stolen from the very place the benefit was held (echo curio). the cartographers played, there was much dancing and merriment, then we all headed to the eagle for some more fun. it was a really fun night, but again, i am having mood issues. i know it’s partly pms but i feel something else at work. i just don’t feel motivated to go out anymore, and it’s not just cause i’m in a relationship. i just feel kind of “blah” and it makes me sad because i love my friends and i love being out and about.
i don’t know what’s up with that. i mean, i have a few ideas, but it’s going to take a lot of effort to get to where i want to be… that being in my favorite dress and back in heels. here’s the deal: i barely dance anymore. i feel impeded by two things, the first being that i’m just not comfortable with my body at all right now. this is not to say that i think there is anything wrong with how i, or any other people of size (lol, i mean fat people), look on the dance floor, as everyone knows that dancing well is more about confidence, rhythm, and making a hilarious/sexy dance face than how a person’s body looks. i have seen some hot, skinny bitches massacre a dance floor before, much to my horror. seriously, i get chills up my spine just thinking of one girl in particular. eesh! still, my body just doesn’t feel good to me right now. it is difficult to focus on perfecting one’s booty shake when you can feel your belly fat a-jigglin’ too, i’m not going to lie. the second reason i am having trouble with the dance is that i dance much better in heels, but i never wear heels anymore. i wasn’t able to wear them when i was younger, but about three years ago, when i started to lose weight, i was suddenly comfortable in them and wore them out nearly every night all last summer. it’s so much easier and fun to dance in heels, especially if you are going to be pulling any fancy booty-dropping moves. well, now that i have gained all this weight, i seriously can’t wear them for more than 15 minutes without wanting to stab my feet to death for betraying me. i will always and forever admire those fat ladies and drag queens who can wear heels all day into the the night.
in other news, i missed long beach gay pride this weekend, which i am pretty bummed about, BUT the awesome thing was the reason i missed saturday night was that i won 2 tickets (through perezhilton.com. don’t judge me!) to see robyn! i have never won a thing in my life and i won these days before i had big plans. oh well, i decided i had to go to the show because a) i WON!, and b) i love robyn’s new(ish. been out in europe forevs) album and heard her show was really brilliant. it WAS! i was so impressed by how great she sounded live and how great her band sounded as well. she has two drummers, which i have never seen before and is awesome, and a guy on keys/computer, plus sometimes one of them plays guitar. she is SO cute and adorable and i love how she is straight but has lesbian hair. the audience was 90% gay men, so of course i felt at home and at ease. i took joe as my date and he really enjoyed the show too, even though he’s not a robyn fan, that’s how good it was. you guys OBVIOUSLY remember robyn’s hit “show me love” from the 90s, if only from the movie, right? i happen to think that song is great, but her new stuff is very different since she has her own label now, and just REALLY good. here i am enjoying the souvenir robyn canvas tote that joe bought me. you must MUST download “cobrastyle”, “be mine!” (original version, not ballad), “with every heartbeat”, “handle me”, and “who’s that girl” (produced by the knife), all of which were even better live. plus, she did an encore of “show me love” reworked to be much slower and more her new style, but very awesome to hear that song live. i was not expecting that, though i’d hoped for it.
last summer i went to long beach, l.a., and sf pride. so far this year, like i said, i missed long beach, and i don’t know if i’m going to make it to sf. my one consolation is that l.a. pride is going to KICK ASS this year, thanks to the organizing of some very special peeps. last year east side pride, aka the silverlake dyke march, afterparty at the eagle, and super-party at mj higgins put on by packin’ heat were so amazing, i just knew it could only get better. this year it most definitely will with dyke day l.a., a day in the park preceding the dyke march that will feature djs, bands, comedy, arts, etc. i’m REALLY REALLY excited about this because i am hungering for a queer community, a truly queer community and not the gay bar culture of west hollywood, in los angeles. i know i need to challenge myself and my own shyness and insecurity (and laziness) to become more involved. i patted myself on the back briefly because joe and i volunteered a few months ago to gather signatures to counter the people who are gathering signatures to put another anti gay marriage initiative on the ballot. then i remembered that i really sucked at getting signatures while joseph, mr. “i’m not as social as you” was ACE. you should have seen him, it was so hot. i wanted to eff him right there on those library steps! anyway, i was butt-hurt and disappointed at how bad i was at it and complained a bunch and vowed never to do it again. still, there MUST be a way to apply my talents to some type of activism, right? haha, omg, i fear that perhaps being an activist entails some kind of hope and optimism that i simply do not possess.
no, i know that’s not true. i feel alive with hope when i think of all the good things to come in the future, not just for “my people,” but for everyone. i did shed a few tears of joy when i read the supreme court verdict, and not just because, since finding the first true love i’ve ever had, i can see more than ever to possibility of walking down the aisle myself, but because of all of the committed partners that came before us and paved the way for this. this is a huge step in history, for the gay couples who never got the chance to marry, for the gay couples that will marry now after waiting so long, the gay couples that will marry in the future, and for the gay couples that will say “fuck that, i never want to get married!” because they have that choice to make. that’s what the freedom to marry is about, you know, freedom. definitely one giant leap for love.
classic robyn video, “show me love”. the nineties were so scary/wonderful!
the awesome video for “be mine” by robyn. such a sad, yet danceable song. my fav kind!
and to end on a happy note, robyn’s GENIUS performance of “cobrastyle” (a teddybears cover) on david letterman recently. and no, her band didn’t wear those bear heads at the show, heh.
so this will more than likely be my last post before dinah shore. there have been numerous bumps in the road on the way to getting me there, and surely i will encounter many more, but i am looking forward to this lesbian spiritual journey.
oh, and by “looking forward to,” i mean “in a state of absolute panic about,” as that is my nature.
although this weekend is set to be the first time i have appeared in a bathing suit since 1989, i had virtually abandoned the fear of looking like a beached whale in public because a) many women there will be terrifying mullet lesbians in cargo shorts and i don’t really care what they think, b) while i do care what my friends think, i figure if they do think any cruel thoughts, they will be nice enough to keep them inside, c) i have a boyfriend waiting at home who loves me and thinks my body is beautiful, and finally, c) a more accurate description of the garment in question, as opposed to “bathing suit” would probably be large, black tent.
in fact, i could have probably saved a healthy penny if i just skipped the chase and went straight to home depot, but as luck would have it, i spied a decent-looking impostor of swim garb during that fateful trip i took with my mother to kohls. it is actually kind of cute in a retro fat lady way, black with brown polka dots, a tie at the chest, and a little skirt. i’m so self-conscious i normally don’t even bother with bathing suits and just wear little shorts and a tank, but i have been to a few pools where they won’t let you swim that way and i didn’t want to take any risks. sometimes i just sit in the sun and don’t swim, but in palm springs i will need to get in the water!
well, if you were reading closely, you would know that although i previously decided not to be apprehensive about this bathing suit business, i am now kind of really dreading the whole thing. i officially haven’t been as fat as i am now in two years and i don’t really know what to do with myself. i still feel the same most of the time, and it’s only when i am trying to get into some of my older clothes or see myself in a photo that i realize things have changed. still, i don’t know if i can really relax in public in a bathing suit, albeit the worlds’ least-revealing, least-sexy one.
sometimes it is sexier to leave things to the imagination, but i think people who say that one-piece bathing suits are sexier than bikinis have the picture on the left in mind, while my bathing suit looks a little more similar to the one on the right. oh dear god, what have i got myself into? my road to a healthier weight and body (thanks queen latifah for the inspiration!) is well underway, but i don’t feel good about how i look at all right now. is it really the best time to go on a vacation that will include thousands of half-naked lesbians? probably not, but there is no turning back now.
well, goodbye for now dear readers. wish me luck! i will return with tons of photos and hopefully lots of great stories to tell.
contrary to the rampant rumors making their way around the interwebs, i have not committed suicide, as i promised long ago to do once i turned 27 if i had not accomplished anything significant. i have just been beyond depressed lately and wit completely escapes me. san fran was loads of fun up until the last day, which is really what sank me, plus i got my period that day, plus the aforementioned suicide deadline was this past tuesday, my 27th birthday!
i don’t even really know why i’m writing this except to say hello. i hate not writing for a whole week, it’s silly, but i just can’t think of anything funny to say. i wanted to post a video of my new reason for living: the jenny craig commercials featuring queen latifah, but they don’t have it on youtube, so you will have to watch it here. the best part is obviously how she keeps it real from the get-go with “i don’t watch the scale. that’s never been my thing…” while also subtly letting us know with her body language that wearing purple cowl neck sweaters with long, flowy skirts has never been her thing either, along with not being a huge dyke, which is MOST DEFINITELY NOT her thing. she is the biggest lez ever. i actually found the commercial somewhat inspiring though, and i liked the health over forcing thinness upon oneself angle. lord knows queen is never going to look like nicole richie, and thank god for that! she’s gorgeous!
in that vein, i found it ironic that i posted this entry about losing weight and what you gain and lose with it exactly a year ago when the other day i stepped on the scale only to discover that i have gained pretty much all the weight i ever lost back. i don’t know how that is possible since i still fit onto some of my “skinnier” clothes, but i guess it just kind of crept up on me. i was barely holding on, well over fighting weight, but still at jean shorts-and-high heels-possibly-getting-laid-tonight weight when i met joe, got laid, fell in love, and totally just lost it. i am in this sort of delusional denial of it all, but all the signs are there. if i see a dress i think will fit me and try it on, it never does. this is a dangerous game when you acquire most of your clothes thrifting, cause sometimes there are no fitting rooms and also to not fit into an awesome dress or blouse is 100,000,000 times more depressing when it’s one of a kind. so sad. i’ve been back to my old tricks of only buying accessories and shoes, but i hadn’t even noticed i was doing it! three things are to blame for this (besides me) love, pizza, and american apparel, for making it so easy to live one’s entire life in a super-low v t-shirt, showing sexy cleav and not even realizing that your waistline and backfat are slowly but surely obliterating the possibility of you getting onto any tops with buttons in the foreseeable future. none of my favorite vintage dresses or tops fit and i think even my feet have gained weight.
one of the things you take for granted when you lose weight steadily like i did last time is how easy it becomes to look “good” in a photograph. i had completely forgotten the old fat girl days of taking shots at extreme angles, extreme close-ups, or avoiding the camera altogether. suddenly, while there were of course LOTS of awful pics of me, there were a lot of good ones too… and by good i mean thin-looking, even though i realize that is wrong. these days i have to erase just about every pic that is taken of me, which is a damn shame, since i just got a new camera for xmas. to me, all my pictures look kind of like the ones of those who had watched the evil video in “the ring,” blobby and awful. horrific.
well, there you have it folks, i am officially a 27 year-old failure, still broke, still fat, and still crazy, if only mildly suicidal. i have decided that since i love joe so much i will give myself one or two more years to live and see if i become famous, and, if not thin, then at least healthy and not giving a shit what anyone thinks, like queen latifah.
last night, or this morning, i guess, i was up until 7:30 a.m. so i slept until about 2 p.m. today. the good news is, i am kind of tired now, so maybe i won’t be up so late tonight.
i feel like i have so much to write about, but i’m feeling really fucking lazy. i have been working quite a bit at home, feeling depressed, and to top it all off i am pretty sure i’m getting sick. i always get sick right before something fun is going to happen, and as you know joe and i are traveling to san francisco this coming weekend, so i am drinking emergen-c lite with MSM for joint support lemon-lime/ass flavor like there is no tomorrow. i wish i could be drinking the sweet nectar that is new acai flavor emergen-c, but alas i am slowly but steadily re-embarking upon the journey toward limiting unnecessary sugars. so far so good today, but i really need to incorporate exercise into this routine. of course, i do mean to start gradually, doing things like “removing my pajamas,” the ever-popular “leaving the house,” or even some “cherry pickers” to stretch out the old musculars.
this is all in preparation for some pretty hardcore dieting i am going to have to endure if i’m going to get myself into tip top shape for what is sure to be one of the highlights of my year, a lifelong lesbian goal realized: dinah shore weekend. i can’t even go into this because it honestly deserves its own post, but this hilarious dream will be realized the first weekend of april, and i need to lose at least 15 pounds if i want any aging bull dykes in bikinis to look my way. i mean, OBVIOUSLY i am attached to the most beautiful, amazing joe in the world, but a little double-take and wink of one dorky-sunglasses-wearing-eye never hurt a lady. joe is secure, believe me. in fact, i’m pretty sure i will come back from that weekend praising jesus for him and he won’t be able to peel me off his dick for a week, but my friends and i are going to have a blast (i think)!
i feel so fortunate to have a boyfriend who is secure enough in himself to not mind if i write about whatever i want. granted, i would most likely balk at being censored, but still it is refreshing to know he would not wish that upon me. in fact, joe is sometimes infuriatingly not jealous! he only paused a moment when i told him i was going to write about trader joe’s lesbian crushes. my theory is that every queer girl has at least one trader joe’s lesbian crush. for some reason (veggie sushi? goddess dressing? six varieties of hummus?), trader joe’s is a mecca for lesbian employees as well as patrons. i have hot a friend who used to work at the TJ’s in silverlake and i swear to god, if she didn’t already have a hot hot girlfriend, she would have gotten so much trader poon! girls were always like “don’t you work at trader joe’s, heehee.” then there was this other girl i heard of that had fallen hard for a trader joe’s lesbian somewhere over on the westside and ended up with a heart more wilted than the mexican broccoli right before produce turnover day. my trader joe’s lesbian crush works at the pasadena store by my mom’s house. she is cute and very butchy, with a sexy low voice, but she wears baggy light wash jeans (!) and hideously nerdy kicks, so it’s kind of good she is behind that checkout stand. i keep trying to give her the “i’m gay too” eye, which joe says he and other queers he knows find annoying, but when you are a femme who has lived your entire gay life largely deprived of it, as i have, the thrill of it is indescribable. the first time she was my cashier i was there with joe and she seemed extra cool to us, but last time i went in alone and she didn’t even know i was alive. that’s okay, though, because i have the best joe in the world, and i wouldn’t trade him for anything. awww *hand claps*
oh my god, where does the time go? this is not even what i set out to write about tonight. mostly i wanted to tell you all that i am boycotting perez hilton’s website, not because it lacks any semblance of true wit (which i now realize is reason enough!), but because he has finally gone too far by taking part in what i can only call a smear campaign against presidential candidate barack obama. twice this week he posted pictures of obama fundraising volunteers in houston, tx who had a che guevara flag up two different spots in their offices. the suggestion was that obama is somehow a communist. i think it is fairly obvious that the opinions reflected on that wall are those of the young staffers answering the phones and not of senator obama himself, and i believe that it is inflammatory and irresponsible for perez to publish those photos without explaining that fact to his readers. i can understand why the pics would irritate him (despite my own stance on the matter), but i don’t appreciate the way he reported it. then, yesterday, he posted a youtube video with the clinton allegations that obama plagiarized a speech without explaining the full story AT ALL (get it here). like it or not, perez is fairly popular and influential and i think that at this point in his career, he has a responsibility to at least report all the facts, if he insists on straying from petty celeb gossip and into the world of politics. as for clinton’s aide’s allegations, the straw grasping there is just damn embarrassing. i knew hillary was going to help elect john mccain. for now, i am supporting obama. i will support clinton if i have to, it’s not like i’m a total hater, but she is making that harder for me by the day. ugh. i will be sticking to dlisted.com to get my celeb news from now on. michael k. might not have the immediate l.a. scoop like perez does, but at least he is HILARIOUS and can actually write.
in other gay blog news, i would like to officially introduce one of my new favorite blogs, gaycondo from portland, oregon. while i do not know any of these folks personally, i was introduced to their blog by new friend kayla, who i met on joe’s and my portland trip extravaganza 2007/8. gaycondo is the hilarious adventures and learned musings of an actual condo in pdx filled with gays! well, two gay couples, one male and one female, all four of whom write in the blog. check it out!
there are a few more blogs i have been checking out, but i will need to read them more before i can give my full assessment. blogs are pretty awesome, aren’t they? well, when they are used for good and not evil. or if it’s evil, at least funny evil.
i will leave you with this little tidbit. the other night i caught the last quarter of the movie “bound” starring jennifer tilly and gina gershon. it is a lesbian classic, to the point that when my friend emily’s purse got stolen from this skanky lesbo bar once, the thieves totally used her blockbuster card to rent “bound” and never return it. LOL (years later, that is, not at the time). in case you have never seen it (wtf) you should go out and rent it, because even though it is by no means a “lesbian” movie, it is very stylistic, suspenseful, and sexy. kind of a crime classic, i’d say. the trailer is below. anyway, the point is, i’m sure i have written about it before, because it is one of the greatest (and least true) compliments i have ever received, but this past summer, when i was much thinner, this random girl at told me i look like jennifer tilly. i was tickled, to say the least. i guess i do kind of have the slanty-eyes and the lips, but her body is so so hot. i will never look like that, but i suppose getting just a little tiny bit closer to it will make all the lettuce and pickles on lettuce sandwiches and diet rite colas i am going to have to consume that much more worthwhile.
soooo… i know i promised to write every day this week, but instead of writing tonight i went out and got hammered. but it wasn’t my fault! i only had two beers, but i haven’t really eaten in days. i am too broke to afford to buy food and, despite what one might think “moving back home” entails, it does not involve one single meal at my mother’s house. the woman does not buy food!
not that i deserve to eat. and i don’t mean that in the genuine anorexia way, i mean that in the holy fucking shit i am, like, 300 pounds way. i saw an ad on the… i don’t remember something educational channel… for this show with this guy on it who dresses up as different animals to fool them and joins them in the wild. the most recent installment is called “dangerous encounters: undercover hippo.”
b) perfectly describes my life from the time i lost a bunch of weight up until now.
the fact is, i will always be a hippo, no matter how much weight i ever lose. wait, to be clear, i mean hippo as in fatty, not as in highly aggressive, semi-aquatic mammal who kills more people in africa each year than any other animal. anyway, i definitely have this deep connection to being a fat girl. i think being fat has enriched my life in numerous ways and taught me many lessons, although often painful. the thing is, i don’t want to be as fat as i am right now. i am self-conscious all the time about my body, even around joe, who loves the way i look. i certainly wish i could learn to love myself no matter what, but i fear that may be a pipe dream, and i have not a pipe to smoke in, at this point.
which leads us to the future, my new project i have yet to give a clever name to. i fully intend upon publicly humiliating myself as much as possible, which should be fun for all of you guys, at the very least.
luckily for me (and you) i have a lot of time on my hands lately to think about how annoying everything is. oh man, not having any money around this time of year is so depressing. don’t get me wrong, i know it could be worse, blah blah blah, you don’t read this blog for my astounding amount of social-awareness and grateful attitude, and you know it. all i’m saying, though, is that i hate that i am probably going to have to spend ANOTHER christmas with no money to buy presents for my family and friends, not to mention my lovely boyfriend. ugh, it almost makes me glad i still haven’t set up my plastic surgery savings because then i would probably be dipping into if for things like “emergencies.” better to be completely broke than wasting my eyebrow lift money on food and tampons.
the impending holidays, my recent extreme weight gain, and unemployment have led me back onto the path of rage drinking. when i drink like this, i seriously have no control over my mouth and i seem to forget who my real friends are and who i can trust and it gets me into trouble. all i want to do is have a laugh, but i usually end up falling asleep in a blind, drunken rage. wha? no more. i am limiting myself to three drinks a night when i go out, including beers. also, i am going on a diet. i was toying with the idea of becoming fat-positive and trying to love myself as i am, but three things have stopped me dead in my tracks: 1) thigh chafing. GOOD LORD. i lost “the weight” (i love when people say that) so long ago, i forgot what this was like. ouch. i mean, it’s not like i am fixing to start any major fires under my pencil skirt, but there’s a rub and it is not pleasant. 2) i am too broke to afford a new wardrobe, and all my clothes are getting too tight. last winter i was considering having my favorite slacks tailored because they are just so lovely, but they literally were falling off me, looked sloppy, and i couldn’t wear them without a belt. today, they fit like a second skin, and not in a good way. 3) i am working on a top secret film project and i had to see myself on film today. i looked absolutely fucking HUGE! it was all i could do not to weep openly right there in front of the camera crew. wtf?
i also realized that my face looks terrible when it moves and that my voice is really weird and annoying. it’s a good thing i deal primarily in print, because sweet jesus! ugh. i am going to start practicing faces in front of a mirror a la “america’s next top model” and take some voice lessons. this combined with the weight loss i am expecting from my new diet (dubbed “the lettuce/mustard diet” because that’s all i am going to eat), i should be skyrocketing to superstardom in no time. i will post the info on super-top secret video project #1 as soon as i can.
now, i know i complain a lot about how i look and that probably gets pretty old. i was going to try and make myself feel better by writing a post about how badly everyone is dressing now and how everyone looks the same and it makes me want to cry, but then i realized that i am way above that. not because i found out that the true secret is tolerance and it’s what’s inside that counts, but because bad fashion actually makes me feel WORSE in general, even if it makes those of us who know how to dress look better. it is just really depressing and wears me out. i feel weak and tired even thinking about this girl i saw at ikea the other day….
but i will save that one for next time. until then, i love you all. i will leave you with this: when the line between “hipster” and “safari leader” gets this fine, it’s every man for himself. it’s a jungle out there.
okay, so, i have a few things on my mind. the first is obviously fergie of the black eyed peas and solo fame. i say “obviously” because it is so not obvious. as you all know, i hate fergie… or so i THOUGHT. upon careful consideration i realized that i actually enjoy fergie, the woman. she seems like a real kick. i just hate her music. but wait, why do i LOVE the song “glamorous”? it is just so good. so bad it’s good! it might have something to do with it playing 500,000,000 times while molly and sarah were here, but for some reason i really enjoy it. i always sing along to it and accidentally sing “g-l-a-m-o-U…” and then feel like an idiot because everyone in the club must think i can’t spell. not so! i just spell glamourous the british way. duh.
anyways, i am also thoroughly enjoying the new radio station in l.a. called movin 93.9. it rules. where else can i listen to both 50 cent and lionel ritchie? seriously, the other day they played that lionel song “all night long” and i thought to myself “i should change this. this is wrong…. but i want to hear it…” and it was just a real pickle to be in. then i realized that it was okay to listen to it because it was playing on the station i was ALREADY listening to. thank god. fiesta forever!
in other news, i have decided to re-embark on my starvation diet. this diet, to remind you, includes mainly slim fast, cigarettes, ice chips, and shame. so i was at target and i decided to buy a twelve pack of slim fast optima and also a twelve pack of target brand ultimate diet shake and do a taste test showdown, as the target brand is a whopping $2 cheaper than the name brand. the only problem was i bought the slim fast in chocolate and the target brand in vanilla. so really, the taste test is compromised. i will tell you that the sf brand is 100 times thicker than the target brand, which is basically vanilla water (yum), and therefore is probably way more filling. i can’t tell you for sure yet at this time though, because i washed down my first round of diet shakes with thai noodles.
what i can tell you for certain, however, is that target brand “compare to playtex” tampons do NOT compare to playtex. i buy playtex tampons because as they absorb moisture, they open all the way around, like a gentle flower. other brands, such as tampax, get longer and fatter. this creates a situation in which you know to change your tampon because it begins to actually emerge from your pussy. now, maybe i have a shallow vagina or something, but in general i find this to be fairly vexatious. well friends, just fyi, the target brand “playtex” tampons do that too. they are not like playtex at all, not at all!
well, that’s about all i have to say re: consumer affairs. i was beginning to worry that my poverty was turning me into a butch because i am so poor that looking at the sephora catalog didn’t even give me half a boner, but now i have spent a good half a paragraph talking about my va-jay-jay, so i feel whole again. plus the whole catalog is practically about bronzer and i have already found my fav bronzer (NARS laguna, if you will recall) and i dunno why everyone is so obsessed with being tan anyway.
it is nearly five a.m. and i have a job interview tomorrow. i have decided that i don’t think i can keep my job at Buffalo Kitchen because it is nipping away at the last few drops of my dignity. i am not a proud person (obviously) but i don’t like feeling stupid and i think everyone at Buffalo Kitchen thinks i am some kind of idiot because i refuse to learn how and where to seat the “guests.” the harsh truth is that i simply don’t care. i am sorry, i simply do not care! if you ask me, the servers should be standing at the host stand, gnashing their teeth at one another to get those “guests” and the tips they hold within their wallets. instead, they get mad every time i seat someone in their section. hostess, indeed! my idea of being a true hostess would include at least giving a hand job, and a tip for ME. seriously, i would take more pride in that.
so there you have it. not only do i like a fergie song, but i am chubby, have a tiny ‘gina, and would totally give $10 hand jobs.
okay, so why do i love myself more than EVER right now?
if looking good is the best revenge, then smiting my enemies has not been on the top of my list for quite some time now. i have let myself go. i haven’t been eating right or exercising, haven’t had a facial in over a year, and almost never lotion up my entire body and wrap myself in a thermo-moisturizing blanket for 45 minutes.
no more, i say! on top of it from now on.
the diet is going well. i have lost six pounds using only mild starvation and marathon fucking. it’s been wild. i don’t even know where my brain is, but i have a sneaking suspicion it’s somewhere… well, where the sun may or may not shine depending on local codes of decency in the state of california. i need to quit. last night i had the craziest dream that i was totally making out with one of my straightest, most platonic, non-lesbionic acquaintances. and it wasn’t half bad.
anyway, enough about me. well, not really. i just wanted to apologize for not posting too much right now. i have a lot of stuff on my mind. i have a lot of posts to write. i am going to soon.
and after that i am going to post and post every day like a good blogger who loves all her new readers and thanks! and with pics!
i lost my camera batteries at akbar so i can’t upload all of my recent photos of fun los angeles nightlife. oh don’t roll your eyes, jerks!