On the Canadian’s day off from the tattoo shop we often head out for a Date Night of sorts. Last night, after rumbling about Uptown for a while, I noticed that the Smitten Kitten was still open and after a couple minutes of begging, managed to get the boy in there. (Not familiar with the Kitten? Then you’re in for a treat! It is my most favorite sex shop in the Twin Cities. ‘Cause nothin’ says lovin’ like a new toy.)

Wandering about the store, checking out the merch, I can tell that the boy’s skin is about to crawl off his bones but he bravely sticks it out. As we’re heading for the door, I stop at the display of glass sex toys, and start to tell Jeff how uneasy the idea of a glass dildo makes me. As I reach up to look at a stainless steel piece that caught my eye, I inadvertently bump another toy which sets off a chain reaction of bumping, rolling, and tumbling merchandise that would make Charlie Chaplin proud. When I hear a glass toy hit the floor and shatter, not only am I 100% convinced that glass toys are probably one of the worst things ever designed for my va-jay-jay, but I am filled with dread when Jeff reads the price tag: $76.

I slink over to the register and pull out my credit card as the super-nice staff at the Kitten sweep up the shards of sex toy. (Doesn’t that seem wrong!??! No toy should ever have shards!) The Canadian is kind of smirking, but gallantly offers to pay for half of the toy. I, meanwhile, am not only embarrassed but super-pissed off that I’m about to flush $76 down the toilet. And there isn’t even any cool, half-used merchandise to keep! If I had broken a vibrator and left it with only 3 out of 5 of its settings, I would be happy to pay for it and take it home. Alas….the glass dildo was turning out to be a waste in several ways.

Against all logical sense, I start to tear up. The Canadian looked startled and quickly tried to assure me that this is not a big deal. It’s okay. I am not convinced, and the tearing turns in to a kind of welling up of tears and I can tell there’s going to be a spillage. This is even more embarrassing than breaking the toy. I headed over to the lube display and grabbed a paper towel from the try-it-out area. I was absolutely appalled at how emotional I was. Emotional! My brain: “I work so hard in therapy so I can enjoy moments like this?!? If this is what it means to experience emotions, then pass the fucking Oreos!” It all seemed so ridiculous at the time.

Back at the register, the clerk is clearly in the Land of Uncomfortable Silences. She just stares at me. While I cry. Over a DILDO. The Canadian is unphased - he’s already seen this freaky sideshow many times. Instead, he starts working on the clerk to put her at ease: “It’s okay. She’s just a bit emotional this evening. She’ll be fine.”

Then one of the Smitten Kitten co-founders walked over and defused the situation: “Ohmigosh! You’re not paying for THAT! Do you know how many $300 toys I’ve broken in this place? Don’t get me started…”

Posted: July 24th, 2008 under BEDhead, Canadia-Land, Schnibbles.
Comments: 4

One thing I can’t get enough of is Britain’s Got Talent. Nothing makes an afternoon pass faster than a heap of YouTube clips featuring Britain’s best and worst, punctuated by the snarky comments of Simon Cowell. My favorite clips are the underdogs that don’t seem to stand a chance and then - POW! - we get totally blown away. Take this one for instance.

I found it on YouTube under the title “Fat Bird Dances.” I wouldn’t have given it a second thought except it had the magic letters in front of it: “BGT”…Britain’s Got Talent. BGT? FAT? Solid gold. The clip turned out to be a 40-something mom who loves to bust a move while cleaning the house. As much as I wish she didn’t feel like to she had to make excuses for doing what she loves - that big girls may be overweight but they can sometimes be sexy (sigh) - she went out on that stage and fucking rocked it hard. If you ignore the jack-assery that is Simon Cowell, it is a lovely clip. I hope it inspired every fat bird to get dancin’.

(Yeah, so I wanted this to be a Rah! Fat Girl! post, but then I totally fell in love with this kid - George Sampson, the 2008 BGT winner. So amazing! A 14-year-old street dancer trying to win the cash prize to help out his family in financial straits.)

Posted: July 21st, 2008 under Fat(Riot)Grrl, Schnibbles.
Comments: 8

When my yoga instructor is on a roll, it’s not always easy to keep up. I get a pretty good start with my feet hip-width apart and heels wider than my toes, but then pretty soon I need to stick out my butt, scoop my tailbone, create an inner spiral in my thighs, pull my shoulders up and back so that I can then melt my heart in to the pose. Believe it or not, the shoulder and heart thing is what I actually am best at. Inner and outer spirals are still a long way off.

Where the hell am I going with this, you ask? Actions. As I continue with yoga practice, I am learning that there are actions that prepare your body as you move towards the final form or pose. Scooping your tailbone and pulling your shoulders back are actions that keep your body protected as you practice. Actions open your body to the mental components of yoga. My instructor stresses the actions over completing the form. Hey, don’t they always say that the journey is more important the destination?

In a recent class, my instructor decided to bring up the idea of injury; that a pulled hamstring or a sore neck are indications of a unbalance somewhere else and there are actions that can help correct for that. She talked about pulling in to your core and making muscles strong on the bone. We practiced several poses in which we practiced pulling in to the core. (If I’m starting to sound hopeless dippy, visualize this: while standing, take a step forward with your right foot. Keep you right foot forward so your feet remain apart. Now try dragging your right heel back as you push your left foot forward. Feel that resistance? THAT is pulling inward.) My instructor calls it “Hugging Back to Front.”

This idea of Hugging Back to Front has really hit home for me over the past week as I have been navigating a personal conflict from Hell. Working with PhD Smiley this morning, she asked me what it had felt like to stand up to this person for what I knew to be right. In thinking about it, I couldn’t help look back at past conflicts when my first impulse had always been to tuck tail; to identify how I could soothe that person and make everything better again. This past behavior seemed to be the sore neck and the bad knee; the unbalance in me. Going to meet this latest person on their own territory; holding my ground, and challenging their faulty assumptions was an action to correct that imbalance. I told PhD Smiley, “I don’t know how to describe it. It was like hugging back to front. Pulling in.” Securing my strength to my bones.

At this point the resolution to the ongoing conflict - still undecided! - feels secondary to the action I took to protect and defend myself mentally and emotionally. There were high fives in therapy this morning. I kid you not.

Posted: July 16th, 2008 under BEDhead, Schnibbles.
Comments: 4

One of the Canadian’s newest tattoos:

I couldn’t find a color image, but I’m gonna take pictures of my own soon. Then you can see the FOUR OTHERS he has had applied to his body since arriving in the States. It’s not fair. He’s having all the fun.

Posted: July 15th, 2008 under Canadia-Land.
Comments: 2

…this is the conversation we’d have every. single. night.

Ellie: Good night, dog.

Chico, the world’s stupidest dog: Are you sure you don’t want to play?  Look, I’m attacking you, don’t you want to play?  I love you!

E: Go to sleep, dog.

C: Do you mind if I chew on your shirt?  Do you want to get on some of this? It’s delicious.  I love you!

E: Quit it.  Stop!

C: Okay.  I’ll stop.  How about if I bite your legs instead?  I love you!  Oh, you’re hiding under the blankets?  Hey, your hair is still sticking out!  I’ll chew on that.  Mmm.  Conditioner, my favorite!  Love you!

E: Stoooop, please!  Let me go to sleep! *pause* Why are there DOG BONES IN MY BED?!?!

C: I buried them in the blankets so I could snack on them later.  Want one?  Love you!  No, seriously, have a bone.

E: Dog, I do not want your rawhide bone.  *toss* There it is!  Go get it!  Let me sleep!

C: Got it!  Whee!  You want to play, huh?  Grrrr!  I attack you!  Love you!

E: GAAAAAHHH!  STOP!  Dog, I’m going to turn you into a dogskin rug.

C: I wouldn’t make a very big rug.  I’d be more like a trivet.  Or a doily.

E: That’s true.  Go to sleep.

C: Fine.  Love you!  I’m cold, though.  Can I sleep with you?

E: Fine.

C: Awesome.  I love you!  You don’t mind if I just burrow under these blankets, do you?

E: Sigh.  Do we have to do this every night?

C: Zzzzzzz.

~Ellie

Posted: July 14th, 2008 under Schnibbles.
Comments: 5

Summer sucks for this FatGrrl. The heat and I simply do not get along. I spend my summers scurrying from one air conditioned space to the other and bemoaning the layers of polar bear fat on my frame that make the heat twice as uncomfortable. Walks with Kiba become this elaborate game of plotting a path through the park that offers the most shade - and with all that fur, Kiba is more than happy to play along. I spend the evenings cuddled up to the Canadian’s feet because he seems to be naturally cold-blooded and his little ice cube toes radiate a wonderful bit of cold.

I’ve been braver about wearing sleeveless tops out and about. For the most part, I can shut down the mind reading and walk the dog without obsessing that e.v.e.r.y.o.n.e is staring at my ZOMG! huge fat arms. But what I haven’t been able to get past is the sweating. It icks me out in the extreme. Every time I feel a trickle start to work its way down my spine, I can feel every muscle in my back and shoulders tense up. Pushing my hair back from my face and finding that my hairline is soaked with it….drives me nuts! It makes me super self-conscious and I will start to look around for other evidence that other people are hot, too; that it’s not just me being a fat grrl. Its’ summer. People get hot. They sweat. Right? The other people that are sweating! Where are they?!?

I can feel the remnants of cultural stereotypes churning in my skull. I’m almost ashamed to admit this, but as my thoughts went over this, two images popped in to my mind. The first was a ripped athlete who’d just finished a killer marathon - drenched in sweat. The second was a person about my size working their way down the street, arms swinging wide because they naturally rest on so much fat, and this person too is sweating with exertion. Can you guess which image my brain thought was “acceptable” in terms of sweating? Mm-hmmmmm.

Geez. I’m starting to feel flushed. Crank up the A/C a bit, won’t you?

PS: A moment of sympathy, if you will, for Ellie who is currently roasting to perfection deep in the heart of Texas.

Posted: July 11th, 2008 under BEDhead, Canadia-Land, Kiba.
Comments: 17

It just feels like it.

I shall be borrowing LisaBear’s tried and true list format to enumerate my goings on.

1. The Canadian and I moved in to the 2BR apartment in my building. I am thrilled with all the extra space, and the fact that it’s about 10 degrees cooler down there. (Kiba is equally thrilled by the temperature as it means no further soakings with the garden hose in an effort to cool off the hound.) The second bedroom is my soon-to-be sewing room and I am muy excited about that.

2. Unfortunately, moves are stressful and the past couple of weeks it has definitely felt like my anxiety and eating disorder are in the driver’s seat. Bummer. It became really noticeable during a two-day stretch where it felt like everyone and their dog was telling me to calm down. I don’t know…it wasn’t like I was unaware of my anxiety, and I thought it was pretty normal considering the big transition coming up, but really, I felt like somehow it wasn’t okay for me to have my anxiety out there flapping in the wind.

3. Christina the Self-Righteous Drunk got me a swimsuit as a Summer Solstice gift. Of course, it came along with an agenda, as she had Fourth of July plans that involved a secluded beach and plenty of Coronas. But in a surprising stroke of the sword against my body image battle, I put on that damn swim suit and I had a fucking awesome time swimming in the river. (This was followed up by a fucking less-than-awesome sunburn on my shoulders. But that’s not the point.) The point is I went swimming. In public. In a SWIM. SUIT!

4. My promotion went through at the museum! I am now a Department Administrator. Watch out!

5. The Canadian is going through a rough patch. Between being homesick and frustrations at the tattoo shop, things are getting him down. As much as I want to jump in and save the day, it’s taking a lot of energy to make myself stand on the sidelines and let him work through it. I’ve spent a lot of time practicing that - being supportive without being Little Miss Fix-It. It’s rough. I don’t like feeling so helpless. I don’t like the way it makes my eating disorder brain run wild with assumptions. It’s not about me, I have to remind myself. A lot.

6. On the topic of energy, lately I feel like I only have so much emotional energy to spend and I’ve had to prioritize tasks and people. I don’t like having to choose between these things, but I worry that if I spread myself too thin it will put me on the fast track to Crazy again. Still, I feel bad for the folks that have taken a back seat to my perceived priorities. Next up….the ways in which I can make myself feel guilty about feeling so guilty. (Kidding. Sort of.)

So that’s the State of the Union. I’m still unpacking; still working my way through Star Trek: Deep Space Nine; still wondering what to make for dinner. Sorry I haven’t been around much, folks. I’m still thinkin’ of ya, though.

Posted: July 8th, 2008 under BEDhead, Canadia-Land, Kiba, Schnibbles.
Comments: 12

Big fat fireworks. Just for you. From the Big FatGrrl that puts the spark in your day.

Posted: July 3rd, 2008 under Fat Fridays.
Comments: 1

Posted: June 27th, 2008 under Fat Fridays.
Comments: 2

An e-mail sent to my yoga instructor on the occasion of a tear-filled session.

*************************************

Hi, L:

I wanted to quickly touch base with you regarding this week’s yoga session. it was a hard session for me - I felt a bit excluded in terms of what I could do with the poses, and I left the class feeling that as a fat girl I didn’t belong there amongst a crowd of lithe, bendable gazelle-like creatures. I’m aware that much of my distress was attributable to my continuing struggles with an eating disorder, and that comparing my own body and abilities to others does little to help my yoga practice or my ED recovery. I guess I just wanted to write to you so that you were aware of the situation. I certainly want to continue attending sessions because I think there are many good things to be had from yoga, and I think it would be helpful to have your assistance in demonstrating pose variations and emphasizing the aspects of yoga that I may be overlooking because of my preoccupation with bodies and doing poses the “right way.”

Thanks in advance for your understanding,
Morgan

Posted: June 26th, 2008 under BEDhead, Fat(Riot)Grrl.
Comments: 17