A view from a fat woman… August 28, 2007

OK, I weigh too much. That’s no shocker. No big surprise. And in the view of most of America, I’m what would politely be termed “pleasingly plump” or if you’re into being more poetic, “Rubenesque”.

I spent most of my younger life very, very thin – yes, I admit it, I was a tiny thing who regularly wore a 6 or below, shuddered to even imagine wearing anything larger than a 22″ belt, and obsessed about the imagined cellulite on my then svelte thighs. Scarlet O’Hara had nothing on me, baby!

Yes, that’s me at the end of high school – I’d already gained weight and at that time, I thought I was “fat” and needed to lose a good 10 pounds. Yes, you read that right. I thought I needed to lose TEN pounds, or more.

Do I ever want to be that thin again? Realistically, no. I prefer to reach a realistic, healthy weight – one that feels comfortable and looks comfortable and one that doesn’t require Herculean efforts to achieve or maintain.

Let’s be honest here, I like food and I hate “structured” exercise. I love to dance, I love to swim, hike and other “active” pursuits, but I can’t bring myself to live solely off rabbit food or liquid “shakes” for the rest of my life.

No thanks.

After gaining considerable weight post car accident (hey, I lost all my baby weight after the kids, dammit!) I developed a pretty bad image of myself… I looked in the mirror and saw fat, dumpy and unattractive… Which led to behaving like a fat, dumpy, unattractive woman. I didn’t care what I looked like anymore. I accepted being “matronly” (ugh) and then embraced “plump” and all the other “nice” terms for “fat.”

On a good day, my image of self was something like this:

Not horrendously overweight, but by no means the svelte creature I had been. (and by the way – no that’s not my backside – and though it does bear distinct resemblance… Even at my fattest, my butt is shapelier than that.)

These days, I see myself a little differently, I’ve learned to look through different eyes, and though I still am not thrilled with what I see, I do see something worthy.

I also see much more realistically, and much more kindly.

I think most women have a very skewed body image. Blame it on marketing, blame it on clothing manufacturers, TV shows, ridiculously thin models, etc. But the fact is, we’ve been taught that “skinny” = “sexy”. How wrong is that?

Before you disagree, tell me, how many would expect to see this woman modeling at a French fashion show?

Shocking? She did. That is at the Gaultier show back in 2006. She is 5′8″ tall and weighs about 290 pounds. Which means she’s at least three of the typical waif-like models. Is she sexy? Or grotesque?

First off, I’m surprised a designer even made clothing for anything above a positively zaftig (in fashionista eyes) size 12 (which seems to be the magic number above which no one wants to even think).

However, I digress.

Back to my reasons for this entry. It is my inspiration, my shout out to myself and the world that I will not continue to accept this state that I am in. The last few years have seen my weight bounce up and down like a yo-yo toy, but it’s time to stop all that insanity.

It’s time to take a realistic look at where I am, and at where I want to be.

You see, I don’t like where I’m at, but I like me, and I’m worth doing something to fix that “where I’m at” problem.

Oh, where am I at? Well… Right about… here…

It’s not a place I’m particularly fond of… But it’s not so bad, either…

And if I look at it with my new eyes, I see a lot to like. I also see a lot to not like so much, but I realize I can do something about those things.

I am not powerless.

I am not weak.

I have a realistic view of self, a realistic goal to achieve and I believe a realistic way to achieve it.

This, then, is my inspiration and my motivation – that thing that drives me on, that helps me to remember to walk more, eat less, drink more water, etc.

Can I do it? Yes, in baby steps.

My first goal? This isn’t a diet, this isn’t a crash course, this is a lifestyle change of going back to the way I was when younger…

That younger self automatically made the right choices, automatically ate according to hunger and fullness, and according to how active she was. That younger self knew something this older self has forgotten, but is slowly relearning:

I am important to me. I matter to me. I count for something.

Tags: weight, fat, weight loss, diet, inspiration, motivation

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It was a windy day in the desert…. August 22, 2007

My selection of pics of the following event are mercifully few, this one was a few Thanskgivings later, in Bad Water Basin – Death Valley, and that’s my lovely daughter GEC, on another windy desert day. The other pics below are of the park where we camped that fateful Thanksgiving. It is beautiful!

It’s funny, when I look back at it, it really is, but it was certainly not funny as it was happening. After my Grandmother passed away, the family decided to stop getting together for Thanksgiving and my then husband and I decided it would be a perfect time for a Thanksgiving camping trip to the desert. The kids were excited; I was excited.

I made up all the menu plans, bought the groceries, made the camping arrangements, and hubby bought a new tent so we wouldn’t have to use the tiny little earth-pimple dome tents we had.

We got to the campground late and had a hard time setting up in the dark, but we did manage it and everyone had a pretty good night. We got the kids into their sleeping bags and actually enjoyed a bit of time by ourselves before hitting the sacks ourselves.

What we had not noticed in the dark was our site location was right in the “V” created by two mountains. The next morning dawned bright and clear, we were up and out early, had a quick breakfast and started off on a hike up to the beautiful spring.

We noticed the “V” and decided that when we got back, we would look into a different spot since we didn’t want to risk being caught in a flash flood should there be rain. The hike was great and we got back to our site just in time for lunch right as the wind started picking up a bit.

The hubby started out for the Ranger Station to register and talk about moving our site while I fixed the kids their lunch. The wind, earlier a gentle breeze, was now blowing so hard it was lifting small items off the table. I decided to pack it up and have lunch inside the tent.

Right at that moment, the wind picked up our dishes – not plastic things, mind you, but enamel-covered steel, heavy stuff – and plates started flying around like Frisbees. The wind was heavy and strong, and the “V” of the mountains was acting like a funnel and pushing it all right through our camp site.

I was frantically trying to get the rest of the stuff off the table, my kids were laughing hysterically – as only kids can do in such circumstances – and hubby was still at the Ranger Station.

About the time I finally got the table contents under control, my daughter pointed at the tent and said, “UUUhhhhh, MOOOOOOmmmmmmm!” I looked, and the wind was catching the tent and pulling the stakes up from the sandy ground.

I dropped the dishes and other table stuff, yelled for the kids to get the plates and hold them, and ran for the tent, grabbing it just as the last tent peg pulled free.

I was holding on to the top bar on the tent, leaning into the wind like someone on a catamaran, alternately hollering for the kids – who by this time were rolling with laughter – to please grab the flying dishes and screaming into the two-way radio for my hubby to get BACK here RIGHT NOW!

My intent was to drop the tent poles and let the tent lie flat until the wind died down enough for us to pack up and move to a better spot.

Hubby arrived to find the table contents strewn across the desert floor, and caught in the various local scrub, the kids rolling on the ground laughing hysterically and me tightly holding on to the tent.

His genius idea? The first thing he did was to run around zipping OPEN all of the doors and windows in the tent.

Sounds like a good idea?

It wasn’t.

The tent, which up until then had been basically a large sail, became a huge parachute as the wind rushed in to the open windows and doors and ballooned the tent out. The force of it was literally dragging me along through the sand.

I was yelling for hubby to just take the tent poles down, we’d collapse the tent and let the wind die before trying to do any more – I’ve lived in the high desert, you don’t fight the wind, you just ride it out.

Hubby had a “better” idea. He decided to attempt to re-stake the tent and began forcing the tent poles back to the stakes, as the wind continued to drag me and the now billowing tent across the desert floor.

Since the tent was now open, the wind also started picking up any and all contents of the tent and blowing them across the desert floor as well. I ducked as sleeping bags, stuff sacks and last night’s dirty laundry went whizzing past my head.

Hubby was yelling for the kids to “Come help hold this thing down” and I was yelling at him to stop trying to re-stake it, to just drop the poles and let it lie flat and he was yelling back at me that “that won’t work” …

… Right then, I heard a sickening snap as the fiberglass tent pole broke and whipped over, knocking my daughter to the ground. The second pole snapped, fabric tore and suddenly my arm was bleeding from where the ragged edge of the second pole had sliced across my bicep.

I quit trying to hold on to the tent, grabbed my kid who was thankfully not hurt, just startled, and started picking up whatever I could and racing it, my children and myself to our truck 50 yards away. I got the kids in to the truck and returned to find hubby still frantically trying to re-stake the now broken tent and very ticked at me for “abandoning” him.

It was at that point that I grabbed the section of tent that had torn and pointed it out to him, and asked him if he expected this to be a very good roof? He finally gave it up as a lost cause and we went about trying to pick up all of our things from the surrounding plant life and cram it back into the truck.

Once we did get everything packed up, we headed back home to spend the Thanksgiving weekend just playing tourist around our local fun spots.

Hubby was a constant grump, reminding me at every turn what I had “done wrong” and how if I’d done it “his way” it would have worked as well as being very grouchy with the kids because they “hadn’t helped” - they were young – what did he expect? And it was a pretty miserable time.

Looking back at it, it is very funny and the kids fortunately remember the humor of it. The other thing I can’t help but think is, I should have left right then and there.

Tags: camping, humor, desert, windy, Anza-Borrego

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A look backward… August 15, 2007

On August 18, 1920 my grandmother was just barely 3 years old, only a few short months before, her home state of West Virginia had ratified the 19th Amendment. In less than a year, her mother would pass away after a long illness, never knowing that her daughters would grow up in a very different world than she.

The amendment passed into law on August 26, 1920, and the US joined other nations in affirming a woman’s right to vote. By the time she was 21 (the legal voting age in her state until the age was lowered nationally to 18 in 1971) she was already wife and two-time mother.

Throughout her lifetime, my grandmother worked and raised children – she tended bar, built airplanes and made sure her kids had what they needed in a hard scrabble town in the back hills of West Virginia. Whether or not she ever cast a vote, I don’t know. It’s not something she ever talked about. Taking a realistic look at her life, I highly doubt she voted, and if she did, it was rarely. Simply put, time and household duty would have prevented it.

By the time I reached "adulthood", the voting age had been lowered to 18 and girls in my high school laughed at the outdated stories of teenagers babysitting for mothers so they could go vote, and holding special voter registration drives for women. We all thought that was a thing of the past. We all thought we’d come so far.

I recall seeing all the Virginia Slims ads of the time: You’ve come a long way, baby! And thinking they were silly.

Twenty years later, I wonder if we’ve really come that far. Women are still outnumbered greatly at the polls. Women still have a hard time getting to the polls because of household and child-rearing duties. Funny, I never hear of men missing the vote because Little Johnny was ill, or they couldn’t find a sitter for Little Suzie.

Around my office, it’s not uncommon for folks to come in late, or leave early in order to vote – oh, strike that. It’s not uncommon for the men to do so. Most of the women say they’re "too busy" or "have too much to do to take that time off" or something like that.

I’ve known plenty of women who don’t vote because: they’re too busy to understand the issues, all politicians are liars anyway, what difference does it make – our votes don’t really count, and other reasons. I know plenty of men who claim that as well, however, more men seem to feel it’s their "duty" to vote, whereas women simply feel frustrated by it all.

To which I say, knock it off!

Find a news site and read up on the issues, there are tons of them out there.

Yes, all politicians are probably liars to some extent, but there are the "lesser" evils, and there are some who are truly good people. Only by voting for them will they come into "power."

Yes, our votes do count. You can argue Electoral College with me all you want, the bottom line is – each vote can and does make a difference. Imagine if more people had actually voted in that now infamous election?

If nothing else, think of women past, who did not have this right… Think of those for whom it was a new thing, and not taken for granted… And above all, think of women yet to come, who need strong, active and participating role models.

The ability for women to vote is a relatively new thing – newer than the automobile, airplanes, cameras, Coca Cola, light bulbs, telephones, and a host of other "modern marvels" – and yet here we are, already taking this precious thing for granted…

It’s time to stop and think!

Tags: politics, women, voting, rights

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Bikini Baristas? August 15, 2007

I’m not uptight. Really. I’m not. Hell, I work with a bunch of men, I’ve almost always worked with more men than women and I tend have a fairly tolerant attitude toward certain aspects that come along with that Y chromosome. I didn’t say I liked or understood those aspects, just that I realize they are there and can turn a blind eye to many of them.

Then along came the headline about "Bikini Baristas" – what the…? I zipped through that slide show quickly, mouth slightly agape and head spinning… I had to find out if this was an isolated event, or a trend. Sure enough, it’s a trend. Coffee bars across the country are luring in customers (I assume of the male variety?) by having their baristas wear bikini tops.

Now, I’m sure many men will disagree – but I really don’t want my morning java served up with a side of flesh, thanks. I’m not a prude and I do believe to a certain extent the "if you’ve got it flaunt it" mentality… But this is not something I want to see. I get my coffee in the early morning, the last thing I want at that hour is the sight of a cute little skinny "Miss Thang" in a bikini top leaning out the window to hand me my Venti  Low Fat Sugar Free Vanilla, extra hot and extra shot.

And of course, the whole thing brings up other questions. Will the coffee bars employing this tactic hire less svelte women who would not (and should not) wear bikini tops, or is being in shape to wear a bikini a condition of employment?

Do they also hire men? If not, well, isn’t that discrimination? And if so, what do the guys wear? I certainly hope we aren’t about to be "treated" to naked pecs with our morning Joe. That would be a bit much, never mind the potential health issues there.

Will they hire less attractive people? Will they hire those who have startlingly pale skin? Oh, and what of girls who aren’t yet 18? What if the young lady’s parents object to the work attire?

In reality, we all know that looks do impact your ability to get a job, but this opens up a whole new world of hiring for looks. But, I guess most strip joints aren’t going to hire fat or ugly dancers, now are they?

Whoa! Did I just compare bikini wearing baristas to a strip club? Yep. I did. And I stand by it. The idea is the same – use the attraction of naked (or nearly naked) flesh to draw in customers. How long before these Bikini Baristas are putting on wet t-shirt contests every Saturday during summer? How long before the concept of a topless barista comes out?

Maybe I’m making more of this than I should, but I don’t think so. It’s just another of those things that makes me wonder if we’ve really come that far? Have we really made genuine progress in that "battle for equality"?

I don’t know… take a look and you tell me…

I do believe a little side note is in order here…

However I may feel about this matter – I do admit that it’s probably a smart marketing move, and will attract a large male clientele. If the coffee is good, reasonably priced and the service is excellent, I can imagine most guys thinking, "Hell yes! Why not enjoy the view while I wait for my morning mocha?"

It’s the same attitude that drives men to spend hard earned money to watch some woman they don’t know take her clothes off and mock masturbate on stage (or whatever strippers are doing and calling "dancing" these days…)

And I am sure most women will blow it off as meaningless. A few will be offended, but their methods of protest will do nothing more than drive more customers (both male and female) to these shops. The rest of us will sit back and shake our heads in wonder. And we’ll smile knowingly as the men in our lives get a little tongue tied whilst ordering their coffee, and try to claim they go to that particular coffee joint because it has a better roast than any of the others.

Tags: bikini baristas, sexism, women, equality, discrimination

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the age of tech? August 10, 2007

Imagine if you will: you’re fiddling around on Google and you see this cool new feature called "Street View" which gives you actual, street level images of a particular location. So, you decide to check it out. Personally, it sounded impossible. But lo and behold, when I clicked over to it, there it was.

So far, it’s only available in a handful of cities, among them New York, Miami, Houston, Denver, LA, San Francisco and, yep, you guessed it, San Diego. If you search the maps for these areas, there are highlighted streets where you can go to get this "street view" which virtually puts you on that actual street, looking at the actual places.

Out of curiosity, I put in my home address and sure enough, thanks to living next to one of the nicest parks in our area, there are pics of my place. More disconcerting still, was that if you knew which direction to go and exactly where to look, there was a loverly shot of my very own bedroom window. Yipe.

Now, admittedly, these are not "live" images. They are in fact a series of photos from a video – Google isn’t very specific about the tech behind it – so there are no worries about cameras following your every move, or anything like that. No checking to see who’s cruising where they shouldn’t be – these aren’t high-tech spy cameras, they’re static images.

An article on Webware has an interesting review of it, and Wired had a "Best Urban Images" thing going on (note I said "had"? More on that later.) Mashable had another "Top 15" going on. So there’s definitely some entertainment value here.

We’ve all pretty much gotten used to the satellite images that are available with most mapping sites, and now there’s something new and different.

While I think it’s pretty darn cool, heck, who doesn’t like the idea of being able to get a little virtual tour, or show a friend exactly what a place looks like? I also can see some down sides. Hey, the "good guys" don’t have exclusive Internet rights, y’know.

OK, so call me paranoid. But I can think of a string of reasons why this isn’t such a hot idea.

Paranoid streak aside, it is cool. And it’s kinda fun to take a virtual tour of those cities. My Vegas trip was work, so I really haven’t "explored" Vegas as an adult (don’t count going there eons ago as a kid).

Except for a quick drive through on a very foggy morning while on route home from vacation, I haven’t been to San Francisco in years (that was the trip when the then-hubby had to ASK the attendant what bridge we were on, after I had specifically routed us over the Golden Gate so the kids could tell their teachers they’d been on it – but I digress.)

It’s kind of fun to engage that voyeuristic streak we all have – and besides, I hate driving LA, but it’s fun to look at.

Now, ask me why on earth I didn’t notice this oh, way back when it first started out? Well, I don’t know. I’m on the ‘net constantly, but didn’t see a lot of hoopla over it, and since I don’t routinely do map searches of those other cities, I only noticed it when they added San Diego to their listing.

There are plenty of negative aspects to this, that is true – privacy and security issues come to the forefront for me – but I guess there is the flip side of that coin. This is technology, we are rapidly advancing into a real-life version of "The Jetsons".

Now, I want my flying car, dammit!

Tags: technology, privacy, security, video, mapping

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