BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl

Monthly Archives: November 2014


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Nobody Looks at the Fat Chick Anyway

suitcaseI’m going out of town, to a family event. There are religious services involved, and at least two family celebrations. It’s back east, where the weather is colder and the events tend to be more formal. I just packed.

The last family event was my niece’s Bat Mitzvah, four months ago. It was summertime, so it wasn’t quite as dressy as an autumn event, but the daytime portion of the program was still a dress up affair. The evening party was advertised as casual, but really nobody wore what I would consider to be truly casual clothes. I wore a cute skirt and top, and was very comfortable with my choice. I didn’t even cringe when I saw the pictures the photographer snapped of me.

This weekend, however, is a different story. First of all, I don’t have a huge dress up wardrobe. A simple dress is about as dressy as I usually get, plus I have a couple of skirts and jackets that occasionally get pressed into service. Secondly, I’m currently the size of a small nation. I’ve gained weight since the last family event, and I’m dreading seeing my mother and hearing whatever “loving” comments she’ll make about it. I feel like a blob, and I feel like nothing fits me. I caught sight of my reflection in the window the other night eating dinner, and frankly I was taken aback. I’m huge. In fact, I’m terrified that when I board the plane in a few hours I’ll have to request a seatbelt extender for the first time in my life.

As I faced the empty suitcase I sucked in a breath and dove in. I mentally rehearsed several outfits, and even tried on a few blouses that I thought were iffy. Finally it dawned on me that nobody expects the fat chick to look good anyway, so why was I making myself crazy over this?

C’mon, you know it’s true. If you’re a big fat person like me, that’s all people really see. They don’t care that you’re dressed well or poorly, unless you’re off the charts on either end of the spectrum. Since I’m not going out shopping with a stylist (but wouldn’t that be great? My own personal episode of What Not to Wear!) and I’m not planning on turning into a hobo between now and my flight time, I have to be satisfied with what I have.

No, I won’t be the best dressed woman there, but I won’t be the worst dressed either, I’m sure. I put in some decent separates, and decided that I would make my final wardrobe decision just before each event. My family will be happy to see me for me, and the strangers in the room will only see the fat girl anyway, so it’s time to quit worrying.


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Reclaiming the Wasted Hours

I’m in the process of trying to reclaim the things that I want for my life. I have managed, over the past several months, or maybe even more, to get comfortable. That comfort has led to laziness, both physical and mental.  In a nutshell here’s what I think happened.

I was married for a long time. I had a normal little family (mom, dad, kid) until suddenly, one day, I didn’t. I got divorced and was forced to spend some time soul-searching and figuring out what I wanted from my life. I was still a mom, only my role had changed, since I didn’t have my son with me all the time anymore. That was brutal.

I had to decide how I wanted my life to turn out. I was required to make difficult decisions that I never thought I would be faced with, but I did it, and I’m proud to say I did it with grace. I pulled though stronger and better equipped to face the future than I would have thought possible.kill your tv print web

I was beginning to understand what made me truly happy, perhaps for the first time ever. I did things I had put off doing, and went places I wanted to go. I began to develop new interests and I dusted off some old ones. Then I ventured out into the big wide world, and I miraculously managed to meet someone wonderful.

We’ve spent time getting to know one another, and we’ve committed ourselves to each other. We, along with my son, have become a family. We’ve purchased a home and we function as a unit. It’s a very happy, safe, and comfortable place to be. I like this feeling a lot.

We both work long hours, and we both are sort of home-bodies. We do enjoy the theater, and attend live performances regularly. We both enjoy food, so dining out is a fairly regular occurence for us too. Other than that, we tend to stay home. We like our home. We like each other’s company. But here’s the thing, I’ve noticed that I’ve pushed the other things I enjoy to the back burner so that I can just “hang out” with him. I need to quit doing that. Participating in NaNoWriMo and NoBloPoMo are great ways for me to make sure that the time I’m spending isn’t wasted time.

I’m not suggesting that spending time with loved ones is wasted time. It isn’t. Spending time watching sitcoms with loved ones can be, though. Instead of mindlessly watching tv, I would rather bring out my laptop and work on a chapter of my novel or begin a new blog post. Instead of watching the adult cartoons he so enjoys, I can keep him company while I stitch on a quilt binding (of course there would have to be a quilt ready to be bound for that, but you get the idea). Maybe I can even convince him to take a walk around the park with me. It would do us both a world of good. And I still have all this extra weight I need to lose. The couch isn’t any good for helping me make progress in that area. Neither is the half price Halloween candy, but I digress.

There are only 24 hours in each day, no matter how you look at it. I need to use mine to further my goals and to help me live my best life. Watching tv won’t help me do that. I know that, but I’m still keeping Monday nights open, after all, everyone needs some downtime, right?


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The Things I Used to Know

Confused-Brain-300x300I’m trying to add some nifty little images to my blog to let everyone who stops by know that I’m participating in NaNoWriMo and NaBloPoMo this month, but the brain cells that used to know how to do that seem to have disappeared. I really did know how to do all that funky cool stuff at one time, just take a look at my sidebar for proof. However, ever since the botched Twitter link (hanging my head in shame over that one) I seem to have lost my touch.

Just thinking about all the things I used to know makes me a little sad, and a little nostalgic for the time when I had a more or less fully functioning brain inside my head. I don’t know what happened, call it middle age or worse, but I have a hunch I know what’s going on inside that muddled noggin.

Here’s my theory: there is only so much space for information, and I’ve started to fill it up. It’s like a fragmented hard drive, there’s not too many big spaces left for ideas, so new thoughts get broken apart and shoved into the tiny empty areas that are left. Then the brain has to work extra hard to find the various random tidbits that I’m searching for, and sometimes it gets lost in the mess and gives up. No, of course you don’t understand what I’m talking about, but that’s okay, I didn’t expect you to. It’s my sloppy brain, so it makes sense that only I would understand the system.

Okay, am I scaring you? Don’t worry, I don’t really take any of this seriously. I do know, however, that I don’t retain information nearly as well as I used to, and I honestly do think that’s because as the years march on there’s so much more in there. I’ve said many times that if I could only “dump” lyrics to songs I don’t even like I would free up tons of brain space for more productive pursuits. As long as I know the words to virtually every top 40 song over at least a two decade span, there isn’t much hope of me  developing alternate fuel sources or stemming the latest Ebola outbreak. On the other hand, if you’re looking for the lyrics to the soundtrack from Grease, I’m your go-to girl.