BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl

Tag Archives: travel


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To Swamp It or Not to Swamp It

427723 PARADE

I’m going on a trip in a few weeks with some amazing people. This trip offers me the opportunity to celebrate half a century on this planet in style. I’m so excited I can hardly stand myself.

We’re going to New Orleans (or NOLA, or N’walins, or the Big Easy, or whatever other fun nickname you’d like to give it). I was there for a wedding years ago, long before Katrina hit. It was a quick weekend with a side trips to LSU, a Civil War battlefield, and a walk down Bourbon Street. It was short, but it left a lasting impression.

This time I’m going with people who are PLANNERS! I love it, because really, at heart this isn’t me. Oh sure, I can make hotel reservations and look stuff up online, but these girls are way out of my league. There are maps and schedules and plenty of time for naps and downtime. I love this! They know where they want to go and what they want to see. I’m going along for the ride and that’s just fine with me. Well, except for the tattoo part, I’ll pass on that.

One of the big events is the kayak swamp tour. Wowza! Swimming-Alligator-closeup-of-head-with-eyes-sticking-out-above-water-surface-in-lake-at-Brazos-Bend-State-Park-Needville-near-Richmond-TX-USAIt takes place in the swamp, as in the place where alligators live. I’ve watched Swamp People and Gator Boys, and as a result I have a healthy respect for alligators and anything else that lives in that murky water. And yet… I have to do it.

But it’s a kayak tour. I haven’t been in a kayak since I was about ten years old. My fitness level is below zero, and I’m not even totally convinced that I’ll actually FIT in the kayak. I voiced my concerns to my travel group (via this crazy long messenger thread that I can barely keep up with) and immediately my fears were quelled. I’m breathing a little easier now that my main concern has become not falling out of the kayak. I’m pretty sure I can handle that.

It’s no longer a question of whether or not to kayak, it’s a matter of building up some stamina. I still have a little time before the trip. If I take a walk each day, that couldn’t hurt, right? So maybe that’s what I need to do. After all, this is about celebrating, not holding anyone back. Time to lace up those shoes and get going. New Orleans, here I come!


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My Real Fear of Flying

I’m going on vacation in a few weeks, and I’m very excited about it. I’ll see friends and family, and I’ll go to the beach and a couple of parties. I’ll celebrate my birthday and the Fourth of July and generally have a great time. I know all of this. But I’m dreading going.FEA040

Why?

The flight.

The last time I was on a plane was back in January, on my way home from London. It was a glorious trip, but the flying was not fun. I was squished, and I’m sure I squished my sweet, ever-patient son, who was stuck next to me. He will once again be stuck next to me, and we will both, once again, be squished, but this time it’s not just the discomfort that has me worried. It’s the seatbelt.

I’m afraid, that for the first time ever, I won’t be able to buckle it.

I was hardly skinny back in January, and I’m even less so now. What if it doesn’t fit? What if I have to request an extender? Will I die of embarrassment? Will my son?

I have a couple of weeks. Maybe there’s time to make a dent. It’s worth a try.


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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.