I quit my job today.
I had just had enough. Balancing school and work was beginning to become too overwhelming and the recent lost of one of my co-workers just added to the increase in my workload.
I don't know about all of you, but I'm not the type of person who can hold down multiple positions and be happy about it. Sure, all women can become "superwomen" when the time permits, but carrying on the superhero burden, for me, can only only be suffered in minimal doses. I had been doing just that when my boss called me in to meet with her. I called out the previous day in order to finish some much needed homework and assignments I has piling up. When I walked in to work, our assistant clued me in that my boss was a little huffy over an unfinished assignment that has supposed to be completed a week ago. Irritated at the thought of being scolded for something that was not a priority, and something that I honestly didn't have time to do, the thought of quitting crossed my mind.
It stuck. I thought about my savings and how long I could last on financial aid. I had some student loan money piled up for a rainy day and with my salary as a part-time graduate assistant, I figured I could let this main job go. After my boss explained to me that she wanted me to finish my assignments more quickly, I told her that it was all just too much for me; I was resigning.
Walking home from work after I quit. (yes, it's only a 15 minute walk away) I realized that I was nervous. While in the delight of thinking that my time would finally be spent on me, than in someone else business or company, I, for a moment, was frightened at the thought of no safety net... no security.
Even now as I write this post, I'm nervous about telling Stacy that I quit my job.
What grown woman ups and quits her job in this economy?
I know I'll be fine for awhile.
But I'm a bit weary of the summer.
I applied for a grant to study abroad next year. Maybe this is all part of some master plan in which this job was just holding me back from following my true purpose.
I honestly believe that this is a good decision.
I'm excited, albeit a bit scared.
We'll see what happens. Thank goodness I'm a person who takes a leap of faith.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
First Fight Part II
This was definitely the time when I needed to break out "Faking the Funk". I was totally upset and it seemed as if all my doubts and fears from the previous week had been actualized.
I was on my way to Quinci's house. I earlier told her that I was going out with Stacy and his friends for his birthday celebration and I wanted her to come along to even out the male : female ratio. But this time, I told her we were going to have a girl's night out instead; I planned to forget about Stacy and how upset he had made me... if only for the rest of the night. After I called her to let her know I was on my way, Stacy ringed me shortly after. Now, just like any upset girlfriend, the thought of ignoring his call crossed my mind. I considered it for a few moments but decided to answer and see what he wanted.
"Where are you?", He asked.
"I'm on my way to Quinci's", I said.
"Well, turn around and come back. I want us to hang out tonight."
"But I thought you were going to Love..."
He went ahead and explained that he told the boys to go ahead without him and that he rather just go out with me instead.
"Are you sure?" I asked.
I continued to insist he go out. I even offered to drive him and drop him off there to meet his friends. After all, I didn't want him to resentful that because of my bitch fit he wasn't allowed to do what he wanted. The sides had reversed; I didn't want him to be mad at me because I'd ruined his night.
"Yes, I'm sure. I want to be with you, I love you", he said.
On my way to his house, I still was amazed that he choose me over the boys. I think that sometimes us girls get used to getting the shorter end of the stick and so, in a way, I was upset at Stacy earlier but I wasn't surprised at his initial decision to go out with his friends. But when he told me he has changed his mind, and he decided to spend his birthday night with me and only me, please believe that I was grinining from ear to ear because I knew, for sure this time, that this boy must really love me.
Cause we all know when a guy's attention is fading, there's little a gal can do to pull him away from the prospects of a guy's night out. Although I argued that he should be with his friends, he choose to be with me.
Later, we went out and had a great night. It felt like we were first dating again: fun and easy going, without the nervousness of when people are getting to know each other.
I've realized that I'm beginning to really settle in this relationship and I've stop panicking when little things don't go the way I'd like them to go. Now, I think I better understand that our relationship is getting stronger and we'll be able to face the bigger issues and problems as they come.
I was on my way to Quinci's house. I earlier told her that I was going out with Stacy and his friends for his birthday celebration and I wanted her to come along to even out the male : female ratio. But this time, I told her we were going to have a girl's night out instead; I planned to forget about Stacy and how upset he had made me... if only for the rest of the night. After I called her to let her know I was on my way, Stacy ringed me shortly after. Now, just like any upset girlfriend, the thought of ignoring his call crossed my mind. I considered it for a few moments but decided to answer and see what he wanted.
"Where are you?", He asked.
"I'm on my way to Quinci's", I said.
"Well, turn around and come back. I want us to hang out tonight."
"But I thought you were going to Love..."
He went ahead and explained that he told the boys to go ahead without him and that he rather just go out with me instead.
"Are you sure?" I asked.
I continued to insist he go out. I even offered to drive him and drop him off there to meet his friends. After all, I didn't want him to resentful that because of my bitch fit he wasn't allowed to do what he wanted. The sides had reversed; I didn't want him to be mad at me because I'd ruined his night.
"Yes, I'm sure. I want to be with you, I love you", he said.
On my way to his house, I still was amazed that he choose me over the boys. I think that sometimes us girls get used to getting the shorter end of the stick and so, in a way, I was upset at Stacy earlier but I wasn't surprised at his initial decision to go out with his friends. But when he told me he has changed his mind, and he decided to spend his birthday night with me and only me, please believe that I was grinining from ear to ear because I knew, for sure this time, that this boy must really love me.
Cause we all know when a guy's attention is fading, there's little a gal can do to pull him away from the prospects of a guy's night out. Although I argued that he should be with his friends, he choose to be with me.
Later, we went out and had a great night. It felt like we were first dating again: fun and easy going, without the nervousness of when people are getting to know each other.
I've realized that I'm beginning to really settle in this relationship and I've stop panicking when little things don't go the way I'd like them to go. Now, I think I better understand that our relationship is getting stronger and we'll be able to face the bigger issues and problems as they come.
Our First Fight Part I
I was a mess last week. Both Stacy and I were so busy that we hardly got a chance to see each other. The time apart from each other in addition to me pms'ing before my period, I had this distinct and overwhelming feeling that something was wrong. I felt like he was growing apart from me. I saw him only once in over a week, it seemed hard to get him on the phone, and even his texts were short and lack luster.
Now I hate to admit this, but I found myself depressed at the thought of him growing apart from me... of him breaking up with me. One day last week, I caught up with a old girlfriend of mine and she went into this long winded story of how she and her boyfriend of three years recently split. I had actually went on a date with him before they got together so I felt like I knew him pretty well. He was such a great guy (too young for me) but it seemed like he was so sweet. And suddenly after seemingly 3 years of bliss, he up and quit her... just like that.
So rewinding back to last week... I'm crying about short texts and not seeing him... thinking of things I can do to keep him interested in me... as if there was anything to do to change someone's mind about ending a relationship once they've decided it was over.
Saturday was his birthday and I was so looking forward to seeing him, finally spending time and celebrating his birthday. I was so excited to play the role of "girlfriend" to the birthday boy. I just wanted to shower him with affection (especially since I felt like I needed to somehow justify why he should be with me). So the whole day, I'm shopping for the perfect gift for him and trying to find a cute outfit to wear that night. He told me that he just planned to go out with his friends and me to a bar...nothing special. A little in the late afternoon he texted me to see if I wanted to go out with him for happy hour, but I was still at the mall. Once I finally got home, I realized I locked myself out the house and had call a locksmith to let me in. Fast forward to 2 hours later, I was dressed and ready to go out with my boo.
Once I got to his house, all the guys were upstairs and staring at me as if they didn't know why I was there. I ignored them and went to go find Stacy.
"Stacy?" I knocked on his bedroom door.
"Hey you" he smiled at me, "I didn't know you were coming over."
"Yeah, it's your birthday! Of course I was gonna see you."
"Did you get my text?" he asked. I shook my head.
"We're going to Love tonight. I just found out we were going."
Love is a famous nightclub in DC. Not a place you bring your girlfriend to. It'd be like bringing sand to the beach. I understood what he was saying: it was a guy's night out.
I had just realized what he was saying and began to get quite upset. I mean, he had just spent the previous night with his boys and I hasn't seen him in a week. I had just locked myself out of my house and paid nearly $200 for a locksmith because I was in a hurry to find him the perfect gift. And he had the nerve to be putting on his Sunday's best to go out and celebrate his birthday with random nameless chicks instead of me. I was pissed. For sure.
He was leaving, putting on his dress socks and everything. I sat there looking at the floor, not knowing what to say, not wanting to say anything that I would regret and not wanting to show any evidence of hurt feelings. I stared the floor and decided to grab my purse and roll out. One thing I wasn't gonna stand for him was leaving me behind like a lost puppy. I decided that if he was gonna leave me to go out with his friends, I was gonna walk out first. So that's what I did. I walked out.
"I'll see you later Stacy. Happy Birthday." I told him.
He called after me but I kept walking. I made it up the stairs.
Derrick asked me where I was going and why I seemed upset as I made it to the front door. I made it to the front gate and Stacy called after me from the doorway. I stopped and thought about it. A part of me just wanted to see if he would follow me...and he did. I didn't want to upset him on his birthday so I stopped and turned toward him so that we could talk.
"Why are you so mad, why'd you just storm off like that?"
I explained to him how I had been waiting a whole week to see him only to have him tell me he was going out with his boys... again. I told him about my day and how crazy it had been but I had been looking forward to celebrating his birthday with him for so long. He told me he didn't know I was planning to come over and that when he invited me to happy hour and I declined, he thought that I was busy. At this point, his boys were piling into the car asking him when he was going to be ready to go. I knew they were waiting on him so I told him to go ahead and go, I'd go and hang with Quinci for the night.
"Look, I'll call you tomorrow." he said "I promise."
"Call me tonight when you get home." I said and turned out the front gate.
Friday, September 17, 2010
blog update
So I decided not to finish part two of this story because, quite frankly, it would just be too much. Just trust me when I say this was a drama-filled story.
Moving on...
I'm starting to think about the future of this blog and where it should go. I still want to talk about my daily adventures, rant and raves, but I think I need to add more.
I'm thinking about what else I should add. Any ideas?
Moving on...
I'm starting to think about the future of this blog and where it should go. I still want to talk about my daily adventures, rant and raves, but I think I need to add more.
I'm thinking about what else I should add. Any ideas?
Friday, August 13, 2010
Jamaica -Part I
When we stepped off the plane it was magical.
I had been waiting for this trip for more than a year. I had saved and stashed, planed and bargained.
With my BFF at my side, I was finally going on my dream vacation to Jamaica.
The couple weeks prior to the vacation had been a whirlwind. The job was working my nerves and school was just a big fat mess. I needed to flee. I needed to get away.
In my mind, I had pictured how it would be: warm days chilling on the beach with margaritas and pina coladas. Working on my tan. Eating great food. Enjoying the night life and dancing until sweat dripped down my legs. Perfect huh? Well...
The night before flying down I hadn't got a wink of sleep. From trying to pack last minute to finishing up some homework and being ridiculously excited, I'd neglected to get some rest in order to be pumped as soon as I arrived. Nevertheless, I was tired the first night on the Island.
I hadn't seen Kristina in over a year so I was super excited to finally see her. And when we did...it was almost like we were in high school again. Taking silly pictures, gossiping, laughing at our own inside jokes... it was great.
On the way to the hotel, it was a perfect 85 degrees with no clouds in sight. I'd like to tell you what I saw on our ride to the hotel, but 20 minutes into our 2 hour drive, I had fallen asleep.
Upon arrival we were told that the hotel was completely full so they would have to upgrade us to the most expensive sister hotel across the way. "Fine by me" I said, smiling.
Kristina and I changed clothes as soon as we got to our room. We planned to check out the resort and beach and afterward have dinner. I wore a royal blue mini dress by BCBG that had a cut-out back. Is was a little short on me because of my ample behind, but since I was in Jamaica, I decided not to pay any attention to the dimples in my thighs. "Ah... more to love," I thought.
After dinner, the excitement of the day just couldn't compete with my exhaustion. The traveling accompanied by no sleep had seriously wore me down. Kristina and I had decided to take a nap after dinner and get up around 10pm to go to the local nightclub, Jungle.
When I woke up in the morning, I realized that I has slept the whole night through. I asked Kristina why she didn't wake me up to go out the last night.
"You were snoring the loudest I ever heard you snore" she said. "I've never heard you sound like that ever before so I figured you were just too exhausted and I didn't want to wake you"
I laughed. I was pretty tired that night but I really wanted to go out. I didn't want to waste anymore nights in Jamaica by sleeping.
All refreshed and energized, we spent the day on the beach working on out tans. We did some body surfing, drunk margaritas and pina coladas. And made plans for the rest of our trip, especially finding someplace to go out to that night.
Checking in with the hotel staff, we heard of a party at a local bar. Kristina wore these hot floral tap pants she got from Faith 21 with a lace-racer-back top. I wore a strapless paisley dress with sandals. Normally, I hate having my arms out but since the Jamaican men seem so appreciative of our bodies, I decided to just let go and wear what I wanted.
When we arrived by taxi to the party, we noticed that the bar was more like an outside bar on the beach. There were only a few people inside but perhaps they had a late rush later. Walking up to the ticket station, I told the girl I needed two tickets for Kristina and I.
"That's $60."
"What?!" I asked. I knew she could not be charging us $30 each to get into a party on the beach. I mean, there wasn't even a floor in the bar. It was sand. And this was a third-world country no less. I thought to myself even the swankiest clubs in DC only cost me no more than $20 to get in. And because of this and the hotel staff telling us it was only $10 each, I only brought $40 cash with me to cover us both.
I tried to bargain with her, figuring that it might work. Most people will take a bargain if you ask politely. I tried telling her that we were told $10 each. Finally, I asked to speak with her manager.
"I'm the one in charge and $30 is the entrance fee."
I felt defeated. And annoyed.
Kristina and I started to walk away and realized that we didn't have a way back to the hotel. We already paid the driver to take us and pick us up from the bar but we told him it'd be at least 2 hrs before we wanted him to come back. We had his number but our cell service didn't work out there. We asked the girl whether she would be able to call him on our behalf so he could pick us up. She agreed.
We walked toward the main road to wait for our driver. A man came walking down from the ticket station and asked whether we had a way home. Kristina stopped and spoke with him and told him we were fine, just waiting for our driver. I was too busy thinking about what we were going to do for the rest of the night that I didn't even look in his direction.
He asked where we were from and whether we were enjoying ourselves in Jamaica.
"We would be enjoying ourselves a lot more if we were partying with you instead of going back to our hotel" Kristina giggled. "Do you work at the bar?" she asked him. Judging from the way she giggled I figured he must've been attractive. Kristina left no suggestions that she was going to be a "good girl" on this trip. She was going to do whatever and whomever she wanted.
"No, I work with the tourist agency. I put on these parties for the spring breakers who come down here and book their trips with us. I'm so sorry that the girl couldn't let you in but that's how much we charge for spring breakers" he said.
He spoke deeply in a rich accent. It was a mix of British and West Indian. I finally looked up. He was tall and fit with a deep chocolate complexion. Clean shaved with one of the brightest smiles I ever seen. He looked at me and his smile seemed to widen more. It sparkled in the dim light of the evening. No wonder Kristina had been giggling and carrying on. He was hot. Think: How Stella got her Groove Back's Winston Hot.
He asked our names.
"I'm Kristina and this is my sister" Kristina said. "Whats yours?"
"Bradley" he said, and held out his hand for us to shake.
We stood there for about 20 minutes, Kritsina being her usual sassy and fiery -self while asking Bradley every personal question she could think of. He found it hilarious and so did I. Kristina and I could tell he was enjoying all the female attention. And while she was so witty, he matched her wit with charm while I stood by and watched them talk, watched his gaze fluttering from me to her. He was so friendly, I thought.
We told him that we hadn't gotten a chance to party yet so he invited us to the spring-beaker's "booze-cruise" the next day. We told him we'd made plans to go shopping then but we'd take his number down in we decided not to go.
"Well," he smiled, "I can at least give you guys a ride to your hotel, since your driver clearly isn't coming back soon."
We both agreed and he gave us a ride back up the short road to the hotel.
In the car, Kristina was holding no prisoners when it came to Bradley. She told him how attractive he was and how she had been waiting to meet a man like him since she stepped off the plane. Boldness was her fortay. I chuckled in the backseat, my face getting red with a mix of vicarious embarrassment and pure humor.
He just laughed and smiles and told her what a firecracker she was. And boy, did she love to hear that,
We finnaly arrived at the hotel and stepped out the car. He stepped out with us to say good bye.
While we were getting ready to walk into the lobby when Kristina turned towards him and asked "Do you find me attractive?"
I almost tripped up the stairs.
He laughed again "Of course I do! you're a very pretty girl." he said. Then, he aimed his gaze at me, "But your sister... you sister is absolutely gorgeous."
I smiled nervously, said goodbye, and started toward the door. Kristina rolled her eyes and followed me inside.
"This is some bullshit," she said.
I laughed.
I had been waiting for this trip for more than a year. I had saved and stashed, planed and bargained.
With my BFF at my side, I was finally going on my dream vacation to Jamaica.
The couple weeks prior to the vacation had been a whirlwind. The job was working my nerves and school was just a big fat mess. I needed to flee. I needed to get away.
In my mind, I had pictured how it would be: warm days chilling on the beach with margaritas and pina coladas. Working on my tan. Eating great food. Enjoying the night life and dancing until sweat dripped down my legs. Perfect huh? Well...
The night before flying down I hadn't got a wink of sleep. From trying to pack last minute to finishing up some homework and being ridiculously excited, I'd neglected to get some rest in order to be pumped as soon as I arrived. Nevertheless, I was tired the first night on the Island.
I hadn't seen Kristina in over a year so I was super excited to finally see her. And when we did...it was almost like we were in high school again. Taking silly pictures, gossiping, laughing at our own inside jokes... it was great.
On the way to the hotel, it was a perfect 85 degrees with no clouds in sight. I'd like to tell you what I saw on our ride to the hotel, but 20 minutes into our 2 hour drive, I had fallen asleep.
Upon arrival we were told that the hotel was completely full so they would have to upgrade us to the most expensive sister hotel across the way. "Fine by me" I said, smiling.
Kristina and I changed clothes as soon as we got to our room. We planned to check out the resort and beach and afterward have dinner. I wore a royal blue mini dress by BCBG that had a cut-out back. Is was a little short on me because of my ample behind, but since I was in Jamaica, I decided not to pay any attention to the dimples in my thighs. "Ah... more to love," I thought.
After dinner, the excitement of the day just couldn't compete with my exhaustion. The traveling accompanied by no sleep had seriously wore me down. Kristina and I had decided to take a nap after dinner and get up around 10pm to go to the local nightclub, Jungle.
When I woke up in the morning, I realized that I has slept the whole night through. I asked Kristina why she didn't wake me up to go out the last night.
"You were snoring the loudest I ever heard you snore" she said. "I've never heard you sound like that ever before so I figured you were just too exhausted and I didn't want to wake you"
I laughed. I was pretty tired that night but I really wanted to go out. I didn't want to waste anymore nights in Jamaica by sleeping.
All refreshed and energized, we spent the day on the beach working on out tans. We did some body surfing, drunk margaritas and pina coladas. And made plans for the rest of our trip, especially finding someplace to go out to that night.
Checking in with the hotel staff, we heard of a party at a local bar. Kristina wore these hot floral tap pants she got from Faith 21 with a lace-racer-back top. I wore a strapless paisley dress with sandals. Normally, I hate having my arms out but since the Jamaican men seem so appreciative of our bodies, I decided to just let go and wear what I wanted.
When we arrived by taxi to the party, we noticed that the bar was more like an outside bar on the beach. There were only a few people inside but perhaps they had a late rush later. Walking up to the ticket station, I told the girl I needed two tickets for Kristina and I.
"That's $60."
"What?!" I asked. I knew she could not be charging us $30 each to get into a party on the beach. I mean, there wasn't even a floor in the bar. It was sand. And this was a third-world country no less. I thought to myself even the swankiest clubs in DC only cost me no more than $20 to get in. And because of this and the hotel staff telling us it was only $10 each, I only brought $40 cash with me to cover us both.
I tried to bargain with her, figuring that it might work. Most people will take a bargain if you ask politely. I tried telling her that we were told $10 each. Finally, I asked to speak with her manager.
"I'm the one in charge and $30 is the entrance fee."
I felt defeated. And annoyed.
Kristina and I started to walk away and realized that we didn't have a way back to the hotel. We already paid the driver to take us and pick us up from the bar but we told him it'd be at least 2 hrs before we wanted him to come back. We had his number but our cell service didn't work out there. We asked the girl whether she would be able to call him on our behalf so he could pick us up. She agreed.
We walked toward the main road to wait for our driver. A man came walking down from the ticket station and asked whether we had a way home. Kristina stopped and spoke with him and told him we were fine, just waiting for our driver. I was too busy thinking about what we were going to do for the rest of the night that I didn't even look in his direction.
He asked where we were from and whether we were enjoying ourselves in Jamaica.
"We would be enjoying ourselves a lot more if we were partying with you instead of going back to our hotel" Kristina giggled. "Do you work at the bar?" she asked him. Judging from the way she giggled I figured he must've been attractive. Kristina left no suggestions that she was going to be a "good girl" on this trip. She was going to do whatever and whomever she wanted.
"No, I work with the tourist agency. I put on these parties for the spring breakers who come down here and book their trips with us. I'm so sorry that the girl couldn't let you in but that's how much we charge for spring breakers" he said.
He spoke deeply in a rich accent. It was a mix of British and West Indian. I finally looked up. He was tall and fit with a deep chocolate complexion. Clean shaved with one of the brightest smiles I ever seen. He looked at me and his smile seemed to widen more. It sparkled in the dim light of the evening. No wonder Kristina had been giggling and carrying on. He was hot. Think: How Stella got her Groove Back's Winston Hot.
He asked our names.
"I'm Kristina and this is my sister" Kristina said. "Whats yours?"
"Bradley" he said, and held out his hand for us to shake.
We stood there for about 20 minutes, Kritsina being her usual sassy and fiery -self while asking Bradley every personal question she could think of. He found it hilarious and so did I. Kristina and I could tell he was enjoying all the female attention. And while she was so witty, he matched her wit with charm while I stood by and watched them talk, watched his gaze fluttering from me to her. He was so friendly, I thought.
We told him that we hadn't gotten a chance to party yet so he invited us to the spring-beaker's "booze-cruise" the next day. We told him we'd made plans to go shopping then but we'd take his number down in we decided not to go.
"Well," he smiled, "I can at least give you guys a ride to your hotel, since your driver clearly isn't coming back soon."
We both agreed and he gave us a ride back up the short road to the hotel.
In the car, Kristina was holding no prisoners when it came to Bradley. She told him how attractive he was and how she had been waiting to meet a man like him since she stepped off the plane. Boldness was her fortay. I chuckled in the backseat, my face getting red with a mix of vicarious embarrassment and pure humor.
He just laughed and smiles and told her what a firecracker she was. And boy, did she love to hear that,
We finnaly arrived at the hotel and stepped out the car. He stepped out with us to say good bye.
While we were getting ready to walk into the lobby when Kristina turned towards him and asked "Do you find me attractive?"
I almost tripped up the stairs.
He laughed again "Of course I do! you're a very pretty girl." he said. Then, he aimed his gaze at me, "But your sister... you sister is absolutely gorgeous."
I smiled nervously, said goodbye, and started toward the door. Kristina rolled her eyes and followed me inside.
"This is some bullshit," she said.
I laughed.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Eating When it's Nourishing
My 28 Day Affair didn't last as long as I hoped.
Around Day 8 I really couldn't deal any longer with the starvation and restrictions.
I gave up and started eating.
Whatever weight I lost in the first 8 days I certainly gained back in the week thereafter.
So right now, I'm honestly still feeling uncomfortable with myself.
However, I decided to take a step back and look at some of the issues I've been having with my weight, namely food.
When I think about it, I've never had a problem losing weight. It's the "keeping it off" and "not gaining weight" that I've always have a problem with. And that's because I eat too much.
I eat when I'm happy, when I'm bored, when I'm lonely, when I'm upset. Hell, I even eat for entertainment.
I've stopped trying to be angry at myself for this behavior. And I've stopped trying to beat myself up about it.
No more feeling guilty. No more pity.
It's occurred to be that I had higher self esteem before I started dieting and for me dieting and self-loathing seem to go hand-in-hand.
I'm thinking that I need to just accept me as I am. Inside it feels like I'm giving up. I feel like I'll be a loser if I give up now.
But staying in a war with myself in which my self-identity suffers is just not a war I can win.
So, In the next few weeks I'm going to concentrate on accepting me how I am now.
Accept the bigness about me. The heaviness. The roundness.
The stomach and the arms. The face.
Feel my feelings without trying to numb myself with food.
Ask myself why I eat when I'm not hungry and realize what I'm doing before I start.
Quit dieting.
Hopefully, I'll be able to figure all this stuff out with me, about me when I'm able to feel and notice whats going on instead of ignoring everything.
And I've got to trust that acceptance, truth, and understanding will lead me down the path of my normal weight when I can start eating only when it's nourishing.
Around Day 8 I really couldn't deal any longer with the starvation and restrictions.
I gave up and started eating.
Whatever weight I lost in the first 8 days I certainly gained back in the week thereafter.
So right now, I'm honestly still feeling uncomfortable with myself.
However, I decided to take a step back and look at some of the issues I've been having with my weight, namely food.
When I think about it, I've never had a problem losing weight. It's the "keeping it off" and "not gaining weight" that I've always have a problem with. And that's because I eat too much.
I eat when I'm happy, when I'm bored, when I'm lonely, when I'm upset. Hell, I even eat for entertainment.
I've stopped trying to be angry at myself for this behavior. And I've stopped trying to beat myself up about it.
No more feeling guilty. No more pity.
It's occurred to be that I had higher self esteem before I started dieting and for me dieting and self-loathing seem to go hand-in-hand.
I'm thinking that I need to just accept me as I am. Inside it feels like I'm giving up. I feel like I'll be a loser if I give up now.
But staying in a war with myself in which my self-identity suffers is just not a war I can win.
So, In the next few weeks I'm going to concentrate on accepting me how I am now.
Accept the bigness about me. The heaviness. The roundness.
The stomach and the arms. The face.
Feel my feelings without trying to numb myself with food.
Ask myself why I eat when I'm not hungry and realize what I'm doing before I start.
Quit dieting.
Hopefully, I'll be able to figure all this stuff out with me, about me when I'm able to feel and notice whats going on instead of ignoring everything.
And I've got to trust that acceptance, truth, and understanding will lead me down the path of my normal weight when I can start eating only when it's nourishing.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Big Girls Only in the Winter
"I like big girls," he said laughing. "But only in the winter".
I was still at Stacy's party, standing in the living room talking to Stacy's friend, Derrick. Derrick was explaining to me why his new girl was so tiny. As a 6'3', 230 lb+ man, I had asked him why he wasn't with a bigger girl.
"That's f*cked-up" I said laughing because it was kinda funny. I mean, I love big men personally, but I know a lot of phat girls (and boys) don't like to be with other big people. As Kristina explained to me awhile back, "TWO big people together is just TOO much."
Derrick continued, "I mean in the summer, she's hot, I'm hot--we're both sweating? No, It ain't a good look".
I saw his point but rolled my eyes anyway.
Derrick was a good friend of Stacy's and a regular at the boys' house parties/get-togethers. He was a big guy and really cute, funny as hell and sometimes brutally honest.
"I mean, there are rules if you're gonna be with a big girl. For one, she gotta have a pretty face."
The boys on the couch, Brian, and Joey, chimed in, "Yeah, she gotta have body too. And a shape... it just can't be all fat falling over the place"
I looked away and started feeling a little self-conscience. Weren't they aware that they were little talking about me, a big girl, while I was in the same room?
Joey was particularly insistent. He added, "If I talk to a big girl, she's got to be pretty and have a good shape---even if she is a little fat. But it's cool because everyone knows a big girl will do more stuff than a little girl."
I figured 'more stuff' eluded to the sexual department.
"That's not true," I snapped, but all the boys nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, they will," Derrick said. "We've all had our fair share of the nasty big girls."
I went to go sit down and thought about what they were saying. Clearly they were stipulations involved if a man was to be with a "big girl" or in my case, a "phatty". I thought about those few times in the past when Joey ( a verified male-whore) tried to get my number. One time, he even asked me out right if we could sleep together. Now, Joey was cute and everything but there's very little a man can say to me that can get passed my natural suspicion. After I told him "no" and walked away, Joey had gotten better at being more respectful and we were able to have a few chats without him saying something blatantly inappropriate. But this time I wondered if Joey only tried talking to me in the past because I was pretty with a nice shape albeit a little fat or if he just wanted a rendezvous with a "nasty big girl". It made me wonder if phatties get an unfair share of jerks because of these stipulations.
The guys continued to talk about women and I took the opportunity to ask some random questions I had about the male perspective. I started with Joey; knowing he had slept with his fair share of single (and not-so-single) DC women, I asked him if there was anybody he'd consider being serious with.
"Yeah, I have someone I'm serious with right now."
"Oh , you have a girlfriend?" I was surprised.
"Well, she thinks she's my girlfriend and she's gorgeous."
"What do you mean 'She thinks she's your girlfriend'?"
He went on to explain that although he tells her that they're an item, he goes out with and sleeps with any other girls he desires. He claims he can't be monogamous but it is OK as long as he doesn't get caught.
" Why be in a relationship if you know you want to sleep with other women?" I asked.
"Because I don't want her to sleep with any other man."
The boys laughed.
That's when I realized that you can be phat, skinny, pretty, ugly, and everything in between and it'll have no effect on the way some men will treat you. Bad guys will be bad and good guys will be good. So, a phatty can meet all kinds of jerks while trying to find the one, but I'm sure a skinny gal can meet the same jerks along the way too.
I was still at Stacy's party, standing in the living room talking to Stacy's friend, Derrick. Derrick was explaining to me why his new girl was so tiny. As a 6'3', 230 lb+ man, I had asked him why he wasn't with a bigger girl.
"That's f*cked-up" I said laughing because it was kinda funny. I mean, I love big men personally, but I know a lot of phat girls (and boys) don't like to be with other big people. As Kristina explained to me awhile back, "TWO big people together is just TOO much."
Derrick continued, "I mean in the summer, she's hot, I'm hot--we're both sweating? No, It ain't a good look".
I saw his point but rolled my eyes anyway.
Derrick was a good friend of Stacy's and a regular at the boys' house parties/get-togethers. He was a big guy and really cute, funny as hell and sometimes brutally honest.
"I mean, there are rules if you're gonna be with a big girl. For one, she gotta have a pretty face."
The boys on the couch, Brian, and Joey, chimed in, "Yeah, she gotta have body too. And a shape... it just can't be all fat falling over the place"
I looked away and started feeling a little self-conscience. Weren't they aware that they were little talking about me, a big girl, while I was in the same room?
Joey was particularly insistent. He added, "If I talk to a big girl, she's got to be pretty and have a good shape---even if she is a little fat. But it's cool because everyone knows a big girl will do more stuff than a little girl."
I figured 'more stuff' eluded to the sexual department.
"That's not true," I snapped, but all the boys nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, they will," Derrick said. "We've all had our fair share of the nasty big girls."
I went to go sit down and thought about what they were saying. Clearly they were stipulations involved if a man was to be with a "big girl" or in my case, a "phatty". I thought about those few times in the past when Joey ( a verified male-whore) tried to get my number. One time, he even asked me out right if we could sleep together. Now, Joey was cute and everything but there's very little a man can say to me that can get passed my natural suspicion. After I told him "no" and walked away, Joey had gotten better at being more respectful and we were able to have a few chats without him saying something blatantly inappropriate. But this time I wondered if Joey only tried talking to me in the past because I was pretty with a nice shape albeit a little fat or if he just wanted a rendezvous with a "nasty big girl". It made me wonder if phatties get an unfair share of jerks because of these stipulations.
The guys continued to talk about women and I took the opportunity to ask some random questions I had about the male perspective. I started with Joey; knowing he had slept with his fair share of single (and not-so-single) DC women, I asked him if there was anybody he'd consider being serious with.
"Yeah, I have someone I'm serious with right now."
"Oh , you have a girlfriend?" I was surprised.
"Well, she thinks she's my girlfriend and she's gorgeous."
"What do you mean 'She thinks she's your girlfriend'?"
He went on to explain that although he tells her that they're an item, he goes out with and sleeps with any other girls he desires. He claims he can't be monogamous but it is OK as long as he doesn't get caught.
" Why be in a relationship if you know you want to sleep with other women?" I asked.
"Because I don't want her to sleep with any other man."
The boys laughed.
That's when I realized that you can be phat, skinny, pretty, ugly, and everything in between and it'll have no effect on the way some men will treat you. Bad guys will be bad and good guys will be good. So, a phatty can meet all kinds of jerks while trying to find the one, but I'm sure a skinny gal can meet the same jerks along the way too.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
I Split My Pants - Part II
I told him how I ripped my pants and had to call Quinci. How I was just tired of feeling uncomfortable and awkward and most of all about how I was tired of my weight and this pants malfunction had made me even more frustrated.
"Well, do you want to lose weight?" he asked
"Yes."
"Do you want me to help you?"
"No." The last thing I needed was him to be giving me dirty looks if I popped a cookie in my mouth or went hard into some ice cream.
I added, " And please don't bring this up again unless I bring it up first" I could imagine how upset it would make me if he periodically asked me how's my diet going, whether I went to the gym, or how many pounds I've lost/gained. I shuddered at the thought.
"You're fine, Winnie, You're fine" he kept repeating. " I love you and you're beautiful".
When he said that I finally started to feel better.
"You know you've got to tell me these things" he smiled, "I thought it was something serious."
We talked for a few more minutes and I asked him if I could have a moment to get myself together. He left the room and told me he'd send Quinci down as soon as she arrived.
When she got there I told her about what happened and she gave me the leggings.
"I don't know why you do this to yourself" she said " you're so pretty, you could be a plus size model,"
But I'm not a model I thought. And I never said I was ugly. Sometimes, people just don't understand. That's why I hate to bring it up in the first place.
Stacy came in and checked on us a few times and I thought it was so sweet. He really was concerned. We ended up going upstairs later to join the rest of the party but since it was still early, there was only a few people on the porch and the patio. While Quinci went outside to say hello to everyone, I peeped the kitchen for something to eat. I knew that it was Day 6 but I was just so hungry and keeping this hunger strike during an emotional episode was just too much. I saw a cake of brownies on the counter, I cut me a piece, and went to sit on the couch.
As I was enjoying my little brownie, Stacy walked in and asked me if I was fine. Realizing that I just told this man I want to lose weight I couldn't have him see me eating a brownie, So I put it by my side, shook my head and smiled--- my mouth full of chocolatey goop.
He smiled back on his way outside and I finished eating. I thought about what just happened and how we crossed a major bridge in our relationship.
A wall had just came down. I had never, ever, ever told a man that I wanted to lose weight. And certainly never cried in his arms about it.
Oh, boy... Stacy was wearing those walls out.
"Well, do you want to lose weight?" he asked
"Yes."
"Do you want me to help you?"
"No." The last thing I needed was him to be giving me dirty looks if I popped a cookie in my mouth or went hard into some ice cream.
I added, " And please don't bring this up again unless I bring it up first" I could imagine how upset it would make me if he periodically asked me how's my diet going, whether I went to the gym, or how many pounds I've lost/gained. I shuddered at the thought.
"You're fine, Winnie, You're fine" he kept repeating. " I love you and you're beautiful".
When he said that I finally started to feel better.
"You know you've got to tell me these things" he smiled, "I thought it was something serious."
We talked for a few more minutes and I asked him if I could have a moment to get myself together. He left the room and told me he'd send Quinci down as soon as she arrived.
When she got there I told her about what happened and she gave me the leggings.
"I don't know why you do this to yourself" she said " you're so pretty, you could be a plus size model,"
But I'm not a model I thought. And I never said I was ugly. Sometimes, people just don't understand. That's why I hate to bring it up in the first place.
Stacy came in and checked on us a few times and I thought it was so sweet. He really was concerned. We ended up going upstairs later to join the rest of the party but since it was still early, there was only a few people on the porch and the patio. While Quinci went outside to say hello to everyone, I peeped the kitchen for something to eat. I knew that it was Day 6 but I was just so hungry and keeping this hunger strike during an emotional episode was just too much. I saw a cake of brownies on the counter, I cut me a piece, and went to sit on the couch.
As I was enjoying my little brownie, Stacy walked in and asked me if I was fine. Realizing that I just told this man I want to lose weight I couldn't have him see me eating a brownie, So I put it by my side, shook my head and smiled--- my mouth full of chocolatey goop.
He smiled back on his way outside and I finished eating. I thought about what just happened and how we crossed a major bridge in our relationship.
A wall had just came down. I had never, ever, ever told a man that I wanted to lose weight. And certainly never cried in his arms about it.
Oh, boy... Stacy was wearing those walls out.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Day 8: I Split my Pants - Part I
I was hoping, since it was Day 6 that I'd be able to wear my favorite jeans. Granted, they were still too tight, and weren't infused with the comfortable stretch like my other jeans, but I didnt really have anything else to wear (hadn't washed clothes in weeks). So I put on my spanx and hope they'd take care of the muffin top and kept it moving. When I hopped in Stacy's car I immediately felt something rip. Where and how bad, I wasn't really sure but I was praying that it was something I could hide. Stacy's house parties always made me nervous about my appearance so I was literally panicking inside. When we got out the car, I kept my backside away from him, just in case the rip was worst than I hoped. We walked in the house and I made a bee line to the bathroom. Low and behold: I had split my jeans down the crack of my ass and my spanx underneath were staring back at me. Thank God I didn't wear a thong. That little comfort unfortunately wasn't enough because I was starting to have a breakdown. I went to Stacy's room and sat down. I called Quinci (who lived a couple blocks away) and asked her to come asap. "Oh, and bring a pair of leggings too" I told her, because those would be the only things I could fit from Quinci's closet.
I dont know why I just didnt wear leggings to begin with. I started to cry because I was so tired of being fat. I mean, the day before I was walking home from work and this girl came hoping down the stairs from her apartment and she was so cute. Tiny little thing wearing little shorts and a tank top. Not really what I'd consider a cute outfit but it looked cute on her since she was so tiny and fit. Just the look of that girl made me drop a couple tears behind my summer shades because it was hot as hell outside and I couldn't step out the house with shorts and/or a tank top no matter how hot I was.
So being frustrated with my favorite jeans ripping, my ass seemingly not getting smaller despite not eating for days, and just the embarrassment of it, I cried.
When Stacy came in, I wasn't crying but my eyes were still red. He asked me if I was OK. I had thought about telling him everything that had been on my mind... from the weight to my insecurities, but it all just sounded crazy. And to tell this man I just split my pants? Aww, hell no. I told him I was fine.
"What's wrong? you're making me scared" he sat down.
"Nothing, I don't want to talk about it." I said. I didn't look at him.
We went back and forth for about 10 minutes and he just wasn't letting it go. So slowly, I begin to tell him what happened and started crying again.
I dont know why I just didnt wear leggings to begin with. I started to cry because I was so tired of being fat. I mean, the day before I was walking home from work and this girl came hoping down the stairs from her apartment and she was so cute. Tiny little thing wearing little shorts and a tank top. Not really what I'd consider a cute outfit but it looked cute on her since she was so tiny and fit. Just the look of that girl made me drop a couple tears behind my summer shades because it was hot as hell outside and I couldn't step out the house with shorts and/or a tank top no matter how hot I was.
So being frustrated with my favorite jeans ripping, my ass seemingly not getting smaller despite not eating for days, and just the embarrassment of it, I cried.
When Stacy came in, I wasn't crying but my eyes were still red. He asked me if I was OK. I had thought about telling him everything that had been on my mind... from the weight to my insecurities, but it all just sounded crazy. And to tell this man I just split my pants? Aww, hell no. I told him I was fine.
"What's wrong? you're making me scared" he sat down.
"Nothing, I don't want to talk about it." I said. I didn't look at him.
We went back and forth for about 10 minutes and he just wasn't letting it go. So slowly, I begin to tell him what happened and started crying again.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Fake The Funk
I don't know how I would have gotten though the last couple years without the phrase "Fake it til' you make it". There are so many times when you just feel blah, but for whatever reason you got put on another face because "Blah" simply won't cut it.
I don't know if you're able to tell, but sometimes, in certain situations, I can get very nervous, uncomfortable, and awkward. Even if I'm not feeling confident, in an good mood, or looking my best, for the most part I try to keep my head up and pretend that I'm cool, relaxed ,and confident.
Lest we forget that every woman has her moments though.
I don't know if you're able to tell, but sometimes, in certain situations, I can get very nervous, uncomfortable, and awkward. Even if I'm not feeling confident, in an good mood, or looking my best, for the most part I try to keep my head up and pretend that I'm cool, relaxed ,and confident.
Lest we forget that every woman has her moments though.
BodyMagic
Me and my body magic. It was love at first sight. Before we met I was suspicious, as I always am when someone or something claims to do something that just doesn't seem possible. Well, I was moving back to DC in a couple days and I just wanted to look my best. Even though I worked out quite hard during the summer, the stress from moving and living/eating with my family just didn't give me the tighter figure that I wanted. And oh, did I mention that my spout with L.A. living had left me in a drought for the last 2 years? Yeah, buddy. Me and L.A. had broken up for sure and I couldn't wait to haul ass out of that lonely desert. And I wanted to be able to meet people again, without feeling uncomfortable and awkward.
Anywho, when I first put on my body magic, it was like all the rolls were smoothed and the jelly was tightened. I felt so much better in my clothes cause they just fit so right. Yeah, I had to arrange a couple bathroom breaks before putting it on, and I definitely had to limit my liquid intake because taking it down to go to the bathroom was just too much work. But those were minor sacrifices I was willing to take to have a hour glass figure.
As I started working out and eating better in the next couple of months, I found that I didn't need the body magic that often because I was becoming more secure with my shape as it was. And of course after my 23 Day Affair, I put that cumbersome thing in the back of my closet, hoping to never have to use it again.
These days, not feeling at all confident with my shape, I've had to pull out the body magic on occasion. Every time I do, it's just like the first time. Smoothing, lifting, and such. But I'm reminded around my friends, and also with Stacy, that it's just an illusion. Um.. please don't wrap your arms around my waist... you will surely find a hundred metal clasps dead-bolting my belly from protruding out.
Other than that, my body magic is a great way to "fake it 'til you make it". Just please don't touch me.
Coming out of the Woodwork
Woodworkers. Kristina (BFF) and I use this term frequently. Coined by our experience from men (and women) who, despite time and disinterest, come back into our lives to try and re-open a chapter that we thought we closed long ago. Since I started dating during college, I've experienced my share of Woodworkers (WWs), some being multiple offenders.
The real problem with WWs are their intentions. Most of the WWs in my life have called on me because they've gotten bored or lonely (all of which is probably self-initiated and none of my concern). For the most part these men left your lives 1) on their on accord or 2) was asked to leave, both reason offering red flags for why they departed. In my opinion, the most common reason why someone leaves your life is because they were though with you or you were though with them. Now I'm not talking about old friends you lost touch with; when we talk about WWs, we're really talking about people who you cut out of your life. Period. They don't have to be men either. Sometimes they're frenimies who were swaying too much on the enemy side. Now, you haven't talked to this person for maybe months, years sometimes, and then here they are- calling, emailing, texting, knocking on your door--literally coming out the Woodwork.
Now its nice to think that this person missed you, they've been thinking about you and so forth. However, 9 times out of 10 you stopped talking to them in the first place because they did something you found unacceptable. You might be thinking about the good ole' times and maybe how you missed them too. But beware, always remember the reason(s) that caused the separation.
These days I don't bother with WWs because in the past I've found I've gave too many 2nd, 3rd, and even 4th chances. I hate to say it but people rarely change as the years go by. And whats worst is that you find that you're even more limited in what you can tolerate as you get older. So essentially many things you were fine with 2 years ago are now no-no's. The combination of your maturity and the WWs (usual) inability to change mostly ends up in disaster after a so-called "reconciliation".
So beware of the WWs. Forgiveness is a great and wonderful thing but that doesn't mean you have to be bosom buddies again. In any case when dealing with WWs, take your time to see if they have changed and whether you're able to have a place for them in your life.
OR, be like me, and just adhere to a sweeping rule : NO WOODWORKERS!
The real problem with WWs are their intentions. Most of the WWs in my life have called on me because they've gotten bored or lonely (all of which is probably self-initiated and none of my concern). For the most part these men left your lives 1) on their on accord or 2) was asked to leave, both reason offering red flags for why they departed. In my opinion, the most common reason why someone leaves your life is because they were though with you or you were though with them. Now I'm not talking about old friends you lost touch with; when we talk about WWs, we're really talking about people who you cut out of your life. Period. They don't have to be men either. Sometimes they're frenimies who were swaying too much on the enemy side. Now, you haven't talked to this person for maybe months, years sometimes, and then here they are- calling, emailing, texting, knocking on your door--literally coming out the Woodwork.
Now its nice to think that this person missed you, they've been thinking about you and so forth. However, 9 times out of 10 you stopped talking to them in the first place because they did something you found unacceptable. You might be thinking about the good ole' times and maybe how you missed them too. But beware, always remember the reason(s) that caused the separation.
These days I don't bother with WWs because in the past I've found I've gave too many 2nd, 3rd, and even 4th chances. I hate to say it but people rarely change as the years go by. And whats worst is that you find that you're even more limited in what you can tolerate as you get older. So essentially many things you were fine with 2 years ago are now no-no's. The combination of your maturity and the WWs (usual) inability to change mostly ends up in disaster after a so-called "reconciliation".
So beware of the WWs. Forgiveness is a great and wonderful thing but that doesn't mean you have to be bosom buddies again. In any case when dealing with WWs, take your time to see if they have changed and whether you're able to have a place for them in your life.
OR, be like me, and just adhere to a sweeping rule : NO WOODWORKERS!
The L Word
My favorite time with Stacy is bed time. We have the best pillow talk ever. Usually, we stay up long after we're supposed to be sleep just chatting and laughing until 1am and then I wake up in the morning exhausted and having to go to work. Now, I'm not sure whose fault is is but I suppose it;s mine. However, him acting as a willing participant, I guess he's a little at fault too.
So this particular night we were going to bed when he randomly said "You know I care for you, right?"
Now, have you ever said something so quickly without thinking and immediately wanted to take it back. Well, I did. I blurted, "Well, I don't know why."
He turned away, "Why do you always do that? you don't believe me when I tell you these things. It's almost like you feel like you don't deserve it or something"
Great way to hit the hammer on the nail.
He finished, "Makes me so mad."
All I could do was apologize but there was no good explanation. There's nothing I could say to explain to him why I didn't believe him without summoning a psychologist. So I just apologized. I attempted to say that it's hard for me because I didn't know why he liked me. And that's true. I wasn't his type at all, yet we were together. Stacy was really active and pretty much fit and I knew he previously been with all thin women. It would have been different if he was chubby or at least was a chubby chaser but he wasn't... and that made me feel extremely insecure.
He responded with, "You're not usually my type but I like you despite that".
At least he was being honest, but he was still upset. At this point he was turned away from me and wouldn't let me touch him. He was having a moment.
"I dont want you to feel that I dont care about you because that the opposite of how I want you to feel. I need you to trust me."
So I kept apologizing while he turned away and was silent. Then finally he said "It's OK".
"I want to tell you something but it's hard to say"
"What is it? Tell me." I asked.
After going back and forth for a couple minutes about what he wanted to tell me, I couldn't figure out if it was good or bad. Stacy's so easy going most of the time that he's a hard person to read. I never know what he wants because he never asks for anything and I never know how he feels because he rarely shows any strong emotion. He's always... chill. So at this point, I hadn't a clue what the hell he wanted to say.
he finally said,
"I...love you."
OMG.
So this particular night we were going to bed when he randomly said "You know I care for you, right?"
Now, have you ever said something so quickly without thinking and immediately wanted to take it back. Well, I did. I blurted, "Well, I don't know why."
He turned away, "Why do you always do that? you don't believe me when I tell you these things. It's almost like you feel like you don't deserve it or something"
Great way to hit the hammer on the nail.
He finished, "Makes me so mad."
All I could do was apologize but there was no good explanation. There's nothing I could say to explain to him why I didn't believe him without summoning a psychologist. So I just apologized. I attempted to say that it's hard for me because I didn't know why he liked me. And that's true. I wasn't his type at all, yet we were together. Stacy was really active and pretty much fit and I knew he previously been with all thin women. It would have been different if he was chubby or at least was a chubby chaser but he wasn't... and that made me feel extremely insecure.
He responded with, "You're not usually my type but I like you despite that".
At least he was being honest, but he was still upset. At this point he was turned away from me and wouldn't let me touch him. He was having a moment.
"I dont want you to feel that I dont care about you because that the opposite of how I want you to feel. I need you to trust me."
So I kept apologizing while he turned away and was silent. Then finally he said "It's OK".
"I want to tell you something but it's hard to say"
"What is it? Tell me." I asked.
After going back and forth for a couple minutes about what he wanted to tell me, I couldn't figure out if it was good or bad. Stacy's so easy going most of the time that he's a hard person to read. I never know what he wants because he never asks for anything and I never know how he feels because he rarely shows any strong emotion. He's always... chill. So at this point, I hadn't a clue what the hell he wanted to say.
he finally said,
"I...love you."
OMG.
Phatties
I use the word "Phatty" with the most respectful intentions. For me, it's a term of endearment. A lot of girls use BBW (big beautiful women) and other acronyms, but for me I found using the word "phatty" to describe ourselves is empowering. I mean, clearly Phatties have a lot more...um...fat on their bones--and that's OK. So I find the term both ghetto-fabulous (i.e. Baby Phat) and accurate. Cece from "The Big Girl Blog" uses the term "Plus-Sized Princess (PSP)". I dont care for the term "plus-size" but love "princess"... so overall I'm satisfied with PSP.
I hope no one is offended by my use of the term phatty. What do you think? What are some ways that you prefer to be called that distinguish you apart from thin women?
I hope no one is offended by my use of the term phatty. What do you think? What are some ways that you prefer to be called that distinguish you apart from thin women?
I Hate My Job
Well, not really. But I hate what I’m doing. I push paper all day long and it’s not the kind of paper (green) that I’d like to be pushing. The job is just so mundane and tedious. It’s not the sort of career that I had imagined… but I suppose in this day and age I should be thankful. It’s close to home, and they let me have flexible hours while I finish grad school. They pay me well enough since I can support myself on a part time salary. But with all this said, it makes it that much harder to find something else that could make me happy.
I mean, who wants to wake up in the morning and think to themselves, “damn, how many PTO hours do I have left?” (hoping its enough to call in that day). I just hate it. I want to love my job as it appears that it’s unlikely that I’ll score a rich husband. And for the first time in my life, I’m seriously entertaining the thought of playing the lotto… just so I can give the deuces to my boss.
I try looking for jobs that I actually wouldn’t mind doing but they aren’t as convenient as my current place and they don’t pay nearly as much. So just to earn what I’m earning now I’ll have to work twice as much and still go to school at the same time. Yeah? No…
Still, I can’t keep this up much longer. I don’t want to look up, 30 years have passed by and I’m still doing this. But maybe this is what I need to do until I finish school… then I’ll be more flexible?
I put in an application for a new job last Friday, I hope they call me.
Phatties and Suspicion
I have been trying to figure out if is a natural suspicion that all women, or specifically phat women carry about men. Every since I was young, I’ve always been suspicious of men, their actions, and their intentions. Is not really like I’ve been wronged in the past, because honestly I guess no man has ever lied to me… but it’s hard for me to take some things that men say for face value. I suppose listening to the experiences of women around me, internalizing the idea of men being “big, bad wolves” from my dad, and generally what society tells women about men “being men”, I think I’ve just picked up the notion that it’s better to not be completely vulnerable with a man. Because of this, I tend to put up walls, I rarely share my true emotions without some sort of validation, and even true intimacy is difficult. This natural suspicion held me off from telling Stacy that I liked him for a long time. We would even text me and say “I know you like me, why won’t you just admit it?” and I would reply, “Why admit something that isn’t true?” Thank God he was more secure than I.
I hear the stories of my friends when they tell me about how a guy has swept them off their feet. A couple of days go by, weeks even… and they tell me how they’ve given up the goods and the guy 1) won’t speak to them anymore; or 2) only calls them now on for a booty call. And each time I hear the familiar line of events, I sit, listen intently, shake my head in horror, and gasp at the particularly cruel moments while secretly thinking “What did you expect?”
So when I think about, I think my suspicion is a curse and a blessing. It’s kept me from getting burned by bad men (though I’ve had my share of singes), but It has kept me from tearing the wall down for men who deserve it.
Am I the only one with this suspicion?
28 Day Affair: Summer Edition
So remember those hideous pictures I was telling you about? Well, they’ve got me thinking that it’s time to start growing…er…shrinking in the opposite direction. Since my last extreme diet, I had been yo-yo-ing around a descent weight for about 6 months, going up and down, and for the first 3 months I was just out of control. The last two months, I’ve sincerely tried getting my eating and exercise situation together but it has always been so short lived.
Needless to say the last few moths have been a self-esteem altering roller-coaster. I guess like other phat girls, I feel best about myself when I’m on the low side and worst when I’m on the high. These last months I was definitely all around the spectrum. When Stacy and I got together on V-day, it was a good time for me because I was till basking in my weight lost from the month prior, but as the months have passed, my relationship with Stacy (and my personal esteem) has suffered as I’ve gotten heavier.
Talking about it with my BFF, a fellow phatty, we’ve come to the conclusion that I always feel uncomfortable around Stacy when I’m not feeling great about myself. He says nice things to me and my natural suspicion (you’ll read about this later) makes it hard for me to take him seriously or trust him. Anyway, I think that’s another subject in itself.
On to my current status:
I just can’t take the discomfort anymore. And despite my better judgment, I’m starting to embark on my second extreme affair to rid my body of these few extra pounds that aren’t sitting well with me. I’m not a skinny girl, and I’ll definitely will still be a phatty, but it’ll be a size I’m more comfortable with. I really, truly want to lose weigh the old fashioned way. But right now I’m too impatient and I fear that if I don’t see some changes soon, Im going to set myself in a funk, get depressed and then at that moment, I won’t be able to do anything to help myself.
I’m on Day 5 and I’m not starving but the cravings to eat are awful. I go to the gym when my roommate is cooking because I can’t stand the aroma. It’s OK… just 23 days left.
Sigh. I hate this yo-yo-ing.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Stacy
Stacy...Um I dont't even know how to start this post, but I feel it's essential to understanding my stories.
So I met Stacy, technically, about 4 years ago. At the time, I was "talking" to a mutual friend named Bruce. So me and Bruce just chilled sometime, he wasn't anyone too special but a member of the fraternity my chapter was friendly with in college. I was a Junior at the time... Ummm Maybe a fourth year Junior.
One night I went out with my friends to nice club around the way. It was cool, good music and such, but around midnight I was hungry and bored. So I told my friends I was leaving and caught a cab to Adams Morgan to go to my favorite diner. I knew Bruce hung out in Adam's Morgan a lot so I texted him to see if he was there. Sure enought, he was in a bar just across the street. After I got my patty melt to go, I went across the street to meet him... and that's too where I met Stacy for the first time.
Now I don't really remember my first impression of Stacy, but I did remember him and that's more than I could say about him.
So I met Stacy, technically, about 4 years ago. At the time, I was "talking" to a mutual friend named Bruce. So me and Bruce just chilled sometime, he wasn't anyone too special but a member of the fraternity my chapter was friendly with in college. I was a Junior at the time... Ummm Maybe a fourth year Junior.
One night I went out with my friends to nice club around the way. It was cool, good music and such, but around midnight I was hungry and bored. So I told my friends I was leaving and caught a cab to Adams Morgan to go to my favorite diner. I knew Bruce hung out in Adam's Morgan a lot so I texted him to see if he was there. Sure enought, he was in a bar just across the street. After I got my patty melt to go, I went across the street to meet him... and that's too where I met Stacy for the first time.
Now I don't really remember my first impression of Stacy, but I did remember him and that's more than I could say about him.
I think we spoke briefly, then rode by his house while Bruce dropped him and his roommate off and that was the last of that.
I seen him again at a club maybe about 6 months later and I hadn’t seen him since then until a couple months after I moved back to DC. I was at a lounge feeling great when I first saw Michael, a guy that was close friends to another guy I went out with when I was in college (it’s kinda ridiculous how small the degree of separation is in DC) and spoke to said to hello to him. He was with Stacy of all people, and I was so surprised to see him that I couldn’t help but to start a conversation.
Looking back on it, it was shameful how much information I knew about Stacy without really “knowing” him. I knew his full name, what department he was in at college, what major he was, where he was from, and also that he had recently finished grad school. I don’t know why I remembered these things… I’m usually not the type to keep up with people like that… but from FB and those brief meetings, he always stuck with me.
While we were talking, he definitely seemed nice enough; polite, cordial and such. I asked him if he was still in school, where he worked, and the same ole’ run around. Eventually we exchanged numbers and a few weeks later we met for happy hour.
Our meeting for happy hour was really nice, besides being sick and only being able to hear out of one ear, we had a nice chat and he was pretty easy going. Later, I found out that when he saw me at the lounge he had no idea who I was and it was so weird that I knew so much about him and he knew nothing about me. In the lounge it was so loud that he couldn’t even catch my name—and didn’t find it out until looking at my license when I offered it to the waitress while ordering a drink. Basically he went on a date with me without even knowing my name.
The next several weeks Stacy and I continued to go out and get to know each other. It was so easy going and comfortable with him that I started to like him and everyone else fell by the waist side. When he took Christmas break off to visit home and I missed him it occurred to me that I liked him more than I thought I did.
So these days... I love Stacy. I think about him all the time. Everyday. What's he doing? what's he thinking about? is he thinking about me?
Does he really love me? This is the real question I suppose.
Sometimes the question makes me wonder what love really is. Maybe neither one of us even know what love really is.
ummmm....
So these days... I love Stacy. I think about him all the time. Everyday. What's he doing? what's he thinking about? is he thinking about me?
Does he really love me? This is the real question I suppose.
Sometimes the question makes me wonder what love really is. Maybe neither one of us even know what love really is.
ummmm....
23 Day Affair: New Year's Resolution
I was 23 days into this all liquid diet and I couldn't wait for news years day to finally come. That's when I told my self that I was going to break the fast and finally have something to eat. It had started off as the master cleanse diet (ie. Beyonce) but after 10 days or so I couldnt drink anymore of that lemonade concoction so I just started drinking whatever was on hand.... juice, milk, beer (dont judge me)... all long as it was edible, I'd drink it. I would like to claim I was using the diet to cleance and rejuvenate by system but I knew I wasn't fooling anyone... especially my friends and co-workers who asked me what was that yellow liquid I keep drinking all day. I dont know about other phatties, but sometimes I feel like I reach a place with my weight where it's just no longer acceptable. I have to lose weight and I have to lose weight now. This "phat epiphony" is usually brought on by a particular fat picture that undoubtedly was taken without my consent, or some type of change that made me realize my body wasn't growing in that direction I'd hoped for. Too tight clothes, decreased male attention, or overall discomfort were the main culprits.
Anywho, I said enough is enough and started my journey to stomachs pangs, frequent bathroom breaks, and eventually a smaller waistline.
Around the 19 day I was craving steak like no body's business. Never being a meat fan, lord knew where the craving came from but I figured it was some craving created by something my body was clearly missing: Something savory, chewable, and with protein.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this was a healthy or good way to lose weight, I'm just telling what I did and what happened. I think we all do things that we know aren't right and this happens to be something silly I did to find a way to feel comfortable with myself (because really thats the main reason why anyone wants to lose weight).
Why 23 days u ask? Because I tried to start on the first of December to the end and just couldn't do it. I spent the next 8 days starting and stoping. On the 9th day, I just did it.
During my 23 day affair with liquid, the morning was my favorite time of day which is amazing for me because I loathe mornings and will sleep to noon if you let me. I loved waking up to get on the scale to see how much weight I had lost. 2 llbs here, 1 there.
On day 10 I ended up going to a holiday party at Stacy's. I went to H &M earlier that week and found a fitted black dress, something to show off the 15 lbs I'd already lost. I had a great night, and felt so confident. I lot of the guys there I had already knew and it seemed like they were particularly nicer to me... maybe a fluke but I doubt it. Mingling was easy and I wasn't clingy to Stacy even though he was the only one I was dating.
The success of the night just made me want to continue. Stacy was going back west for Christmas and I know I had time to work on me and the diet while he wasn't around. I knew that because most of my friends were away, I wouldn't be persuaded into eating by going out, partying, or hanging out with friends.
The new years party I went to with my sorority sister , Quinci, was the light at the end of the tunnel. We got there early, dressed and glowing and I felt better than I had in a long time...umm. sans the hunger.
I was 24 lbs lighter and I saw it in my face, feet, waist,...everywhere.
On the dance floor, as we were part of the special perks of being so early, I noticed that they had a buffet. Hell, it was only 3 hours till Jan. 1st and they had macroni and cheese, fried fish, meatballs, and greens. I told Quinci I was just gonna have a taste ( and OMG is was the best thing I've ever tasted in my life). The rest of the night was a mix of drinking ciroc on the house, texting Stacy, and thinking about what wonderfulness I was going to finally eat in the morning.
Fast forward to the morning...
I was lying in bed and totally out of it, memory blotchy but from the look of the vomit next to the bed, I knew I had too much to drink and me and the diet had officially broke up.
Anywho, I said enough is enough and started my journey to stomachs pangs, frequent bathroom breaks, and eventually a smaller waistline.
Around the 19 day I was craving steak like no body's business. Never being a meat fan, lord knew where the craving came from but I figured it was some craving created by something my body was clearly missing: Something savory, chewable, and with protein.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this was a healthy or good way to lose weight, I'm just telling what I did and what happened. I think we all do things that we know aren't right and this happens to be something silly I did to find a way to feel comfortable with myself (because really thats the main reason why anyone wants to lose weight).
Why 23 days u ask? Because I tried to start on the first of December to the end and just couldn't do it. I spent the next 8 days starting and stoping. On the 9th day, I just did it.
During my 23 day affair with liquid, the morning was my favorite time of day which is amazing for me because I loathe mornings and will sleep to noon if you let me. I loved waking up to get on the scale to see how much weight I had lost. 2 llbs here, 1 there.
On day 10 I ended up going to a holiday party at Stacy's. I went to H &M earlier that week and found a fitted black dress, something to show off the 15 lbs I'd already lost. I had a great night, and felt so confident. I lot of the guys there I had already knew and it seemed like they were particularly nicer to me... maybe a fluke but I doubt it. Mingling was easy and I wasn't clingy to Stacy even though he was the only one I was dating.
The success of the night just made me want to continue. Stacy was going back west for Christmas and I know I had time to work on me and the diet while he wasn't around. I knew that because most of my friends were away, I wouldn't be persuaded into eating by going out, partying, or hanging out with friends.
The new years party I went to with my sorority sister , Quinci, was the light at the end of the tunnel. We got there early, dressed and glowing and I felt better than I had in a long time...umm. sans the hunger.
I was 24 lbs lighter and I saw it in my face, feet, waist,...everywhere.
On the dance floor, as we were part of the special perks of being so early, I noticed that they had a buffet. Hell, it was only 3 hours till Jan. 1st and they had macroni and cheese, fried fish, meatballs, and greens. I told Quinci I was just gonna have a taste ( and OMG is was the best thing I've ever tasted in my life). The rest of the night was a mix of drinking ciroc on the house, texting Stacy, and thinking about what wonderfulness I was going to finally eat in the morning.
Fast forward to the morning...
I was lying in bed and totally out of it, memory blotchy but from the look of the vomit next to the bed, I knew I had too much to drink and me and the diet had officially broke up.
Black and White
It been about three days since V-day and I've been told everything from "That's your man" to "Umm, not really". I really had just given up on getting advice and thought that I'd have to ask him myself, which, by the way, I didnt want to do. Its nerve racking to have to confront someone and basicially ask them if they like you or not. (in this case asking him whether he like me enough for a relationship which meant puting myself at risk for rejection). I mean, I knew Stacy liked me...but I wasn't sure how much. Being the procastinator that I am... I decided to put it off. I had originally planned to go to Jamaica with Kristina next month for my Birthday. I'd let him know how I felt then, go on vaction without contact with him, and give him a chance to think about it ( A.K.A. a chance to miss me).
He ended up calling me shortly after making that decision. We talked... small talk really. How was your day? what's planned for the weekend? I got a paper due tomorrow... blah blah blah.... So then he asks me whether I've spoken to my mother lately.
"Yeah, I spoke to her yesterday, actually I talked to her about you"
"Oh yeah? What did you call me?"
I paused.
"I called you Stacy... what else am I supposed to call you?"
"Well, I mean you could have called me your boyfriend..."
omg.
He ended up calling me shortly after making that decision. We talked... small talk really. How was your day? what's planned for the weekend? I got a paper due tomorrow... blah blah blah.... So then he asks me whether I've spoken to my mother lately.
"Yeah, I spoke to her yesterday, actually I talked to her about you"
"Oh yeah? What did you call me?"
I paused.
"I called you Stacy... what else am I supposed to call you?"
"Well, I mean you could have called me your boyfriend..."
omg.
Grey Area
So after V-day, I was super excited about my new relationship with Stacy. Though I've dated a lot since moving to DC after high school, I hadn't really found any consistent, stable, and monogamous relationship over the years. In fact, prior to moving back to DC a couple months back, I was determined to find a nice guy--and I did.
On my cloud of happiness, it occurred to me that we were exclusive, but... was he my boyfriend?
"He's your boyfriend. You two are exclusive. It means the same thing," Kristina told me on one of our daily rants and raves.
I tried believing her but my natural suspicion in life told me that it wasn't so black and white.
One day talking to classmate in my MA program, I explained to her my situation. We had a good re pore; but she had a terrible habit of being too harsh and downright aggressive. Sometimes I liked it, other times, I avoided her. But this time, I forgot her habits and spoke to her as friend, woman to woman.
"So I'm afraid that us being exclusive doesn't make him my boyfriend, per se"
Without even looking up from her news paper she curtly said, "He ain't your man--ya'll are just f*cking. Exclusively."
Damn.
On my cloud of happiness, it occurred to me that we were exclusive, but... was he my boyfriend?
"He's your boyfriend. You two are exclusive. It means the same thing," Kristina told me on one of our daily rants and raves.
I tried believing her but my natural suspicion in life told me that it wasn't so black and white.
One day talking to classmate in my MA program, I explained to her my situation. We had a good re pore; but she had a terrible habit of being too harsh and downright aggressive. Sometimes I liked it, other times, I avoided her. But this time, I forgot her habits and spoke to her as friend, woman to woman.
"So I'm afraid that us being exclusive doesn't make him my boyfriend, per se"
Without even looking up from her news paper she curtly said, "He ain't your man--ya'll are just f*cking. Exclusively."
Damn.
Valentine's Day- Part 2
On the couch I started to realize how I had planned for a completely different kind of Valentine's Date. It was already nearly 10pm and I hadn't spent as much time with Stacy as I wanted. Afterall, I did have to get ready to go to work in the morning and couldn't stay up all night. So we started to snuggle and it was nice. Soon, we were having the type of night that I had in mind. Later, we were up just talking and we brought up the subject of exclusiveness.
"Let's talk about it then" He sat on the edge of the bed and told me he hadn't been exclusive with anyone before. Well I hadn't either, I thought, but I didnt say it.
We talked about why we should do it and the reasons why not. I was all for it. I mean, I really liked him and wasnt seeing anyone else. Why not?
Eventually he said "Ok, we're exclusive."
"Let's talk about it then" He sat on the edge of the bed and told me he hadn't been exclusive with anyone before. Well I hadn't either, I thought, but I didnt say it.
We talked about why we should do it and the reasons why not. I was all for it. I mean, I really liked him and wasnt seeing anyone else. Why not?
Eventually he said "Ok, we're exclusive."
Valentine's Day- Part I
I had been seeing Stacy for about 3 months when we found ourselves still dating by Valentine's Day. Now V-day is also like a hit or miss form most women; it's great when you have someone, pretty much depressing when you don't. So this year, I was particulately excited... and also curious if Stacy was going to live up to my expectations. For the past few weeks I been talking to my BFF, Kristina, about it; obsessing about whether or not he knew V-day was approaching, if he was planning something special, getting me a gift, and so on. Based on Stacy's track record, I didnt really see him as the romantic type. He was a guy's guy, a man's man. He's the guy who's obsessed with sports and played football, hockey, or lacross in college. He's a classic guy who likes his nice car, still shares a house with his college roommates, and goes to bars with the guys on a friday night. He likes his beer, maybe a little jack and coke, and homestyle cooking. Goes to the the gym to work on his musles, social but not too social and dresses well but not too well. A good guy but usually those hard guy type don't consider the expectations of V-Day, let alone plan anything romantic. So basically, my expectations were minimal but they were there. The weekend before V-weekend, I asked Stacy over the phone whether he had anything planned for Sunday (v-Day). Well, I was a little more to the point with it as I was tired of speculating.
"So do you have anything planned for me next Sunday?"
He laughed. "What are you trying to ask me?"
" I just asked you what I was trying to ask you"
"Yeah, we can do something then, what do you want to do?"
"Well, why dont you think of something and then we'll get together then?"
"Cool"
So, the day finally came and he had let me know we were going to his house for the evening. I figured he planned on cooking for me which was kinda sweet considering I've never seen him cook anything.
I was supposed to be ready for him to pick me up at 8 and I settled on wearing some black leggings and boots and a black shirt (simple, chic, and slimming). One thing I loved about Stacy was that he was always on time. In our whole history of dating, he was never more than 5 minutes late from the time he said he would arrive. Usually he was waiting for me to finish getting ready since I'm late much too frequently. So it was a surprise to me when 8:10, 8:15 and 8:20 came and he hadn't called me yet. I decided to call him to see where he was.
"Hey, what's up? Are you still coming?"
"Yeah, I got into a couple things, but Imma be there soon"
8:30 came and went. 8:40. 8:50. Consumed with fears that he really doesn't want to see me tonight and this is his way of trying to get out of it, I called again.
"Stacy, are you sure you're still coming? If something came up and can just tell me"
"No, everything is fine, I'll be on my way soon as soon as I can."
9:00. 9:10.
I called Kristina in a fit. "Is he really going to stand me up on Valentine's day? What should I do".
I went on about how I couldn't believe he was doing this, he's never been late before, why now? It was 9pm and I was thinking about where and with whom I could go out for the night since I was damned if I'm going to stay home and cry about how I was stood up on V-Day. Most of all, I was hungry as hell. The last couple days, I wasn't eating too much in an attempt to drop some weight before V-day. I had know he was going to cook so I figured that day I'd wait until the evening to have a full meal.
I don't know if you've ever seen an upset and hungry phat chick, but I was definietly in a f-ed up mood.
"I don't know what to say" Kristina told me as I was walking out of my building heading to Subway on the corner for a sub. "This doesn't sound like him. he's like a hour late. I'm so sorry. Dont worry about going out tonight, just go to subway get your sandwich and go to bed. When he calls you later tonight--which he will, just tell him you're already in the bed."
"Ok, I'll get this sandwich and go back home."
As soon as I got back got to my room, I opened by my sandwich and had a strong urge to cry... partly because I was so upset and a little because I was mad I starved myself for the whole day.
Then he called.
"I'm on my way and I'll be there soon."
I looked at my clock and it was 9:25.
"Stacy, I already took off my clothes." I lied.
"I dont care. Just but something on--anything"
"Ummm...ok."
When he finally came, he was dressed really cute, but had these raggedy timberland boots on..like he was walking thru the snow all night. I ignored them and turned on my silent treatment. I was still mad but asked him why he was so late.
"My car was stuck in the snow."
For a hour and an half? I thought.. I didnt say anything else and we rode to his house in silence.
"Winny (his nick-name for me), are you going to stop being mad soon?"
"Maybe, I dunno"
When we got to the alley where he parks his car I saw how much snow was there. He explained how he couldnt get out of the snow banks even after the help of his roommates and had to call a tow truck. I began to soften up because I knew he was telling the truth; there was so much snow. But--I was still upset.
I was right about him making me dinner, he reheated everything he made and gave me some wine while we both sat eating in the dinning room. Afterwards we sat on the couch and watched some TV and I asked him where my flowers and chocolates were. He looked puzzled.
" You know for Valentine's day, some women want chocolate or flowers or something..."
"Oh you're talking to me now?" he added" but I made you dinner."
"But I really wanted chocolate."
"You should have told me then." I gave him a face and he said "Ok, I'll get you some. Don't worry".
"So do you have anything planned for me next Sunday?"
He laughed. "What are you trying to ask me?"
" I just asked you what I was trying to ask you"
"Yeah, we can do something then, what do you want to do?"
"Well, why dont you think of something and then we'll get together then?"
"Cool"
So, the day finally came and he had let me know we were going to his house for the evening. I figured he planned on cooking for me which was kinda sweet considering I've never seen him cook anything.
I was supposed to be ready for him to pick me up at 8 and I settled on wearing some black leggings and boots and a black shirt (simple, chic, and slimming). One thing I loved about Stacy was that he was always on time. In our whole history of dating, he was never more than 5 minutes late from the time he said he would arrive. Usually he was waiting for me to finish getting ready since I'm late much too frequently. So it was a surprise to me when 8:10, 8:15 and 8:20 came and he hadn't called me yet. I decided to call him to see where he was.
"Hey, what's up? Are you still coming?"
"Yeah, I got into a couple things, but Imma be there soon"
8:30 came and went. 8:40. 8:50. Consumed with fears that he really doesn't want to see me tonight and this is his way of trying to get out of it, I called again.
"Stacy, are you sure you're still coming? If something came up and can just tell me"
"No, everything is fine, I'll be on my way soon as soon as I can."
9:00. 9:10.
I called Kristina in a fit. "Is he really going to stand me up on Valentine's day? What should I do".
I went on about how I couldn't believe he was doing this, he's never been late before, why now? It was 9pm and I was thinking about where and with whom I could go out for the night since I was damned if I'm going to stay home and cry about how I was stood up on V-Day. Most of all, I was hungry as hell. The last couple days, I wasn't eating too much in an attempt to drop some weight before V-day. I had know he was going to cook so I figured that day I'd wait until the evening to have a full meal.
I don't know if you've ever seen an upset and hungry phat chick, but I was definietly in a f-ed up mood.
"I don't know what to say" Kristina told me as I was walking out of my building heading to Subway on the corner for a sub. "This doesn't sound like him. he's like a hour late. I'm so sorry. Dont worry about going out tonight, just go to subway get your sandwich and go to bed. When he calls you later tonight--which he will, just tell him you're already in the bed."
"Ok, I'll get this sandwich and go back home."
As soon as I got back got to my room, I opened by my sandwich and had a strong urge to cry... partly because I was so upset and a little because I was mad I starved myself for the whole day.
Then he called.
"I'm on my way and I'll be there soon."
I looked at my clock and it was 9:25.
"Stacy, I already took off my clothes." I lied.
"I dont care. Just but something on--anything"
"Ummm...ok."
When he finally came, he was dressed really cute, but had these raggedy timberland boots on..like he was walking thru the snow all night. I ignored them and turned on my silent treatment. I was still mad but asked him why he was so late.
"My car was stuck in the snow."
For a hour and an half? I thought.. I didnt say anything else and we rode to his house in silence.
"Winny (his nick-name for me), are you going to stop being mad soon?"
"Maybe, I dunno"
When we got to the alley where he parks his car I saw how much snow was there. He explained how he couldnt get out of the snow banks even after the help of his roommates and had to call a tow truck. I began to soften up because I knew he was telling the truth; there was so much snow. But--I was still upset.
I was right about him making me dinner, he reheated everything he made and gave me some wine while we both sat eating in the dinning room. Afterwards we sat on the couch and watched some TV and I asked him where my flowers and chocolates were. He looked puzzled.
" You know for Valentine's day, some women want chocolate or flowers or something..."
"Oh you're talking to me now?" he added" but I made you dinner."
"But I really wanted chocolate."
"You should have told me then." I gave him a face and he said "Ok, I'll get you some. Don't worry".
Please Don't Tag Me!
This morning I decided to check facebook and then realized that it was a big mistake. Front and center some fool (a friend) has uploaded all these hideous pictures of me when I specifically told that heifer that I'm in no mood for pictures. Lord knows how that translated into "Please snap a couple pics of me clearly disheveled and caught off guard; and oh yeah... go right ahead and tag them on facebook too". I don't know if this is an issue that many phat women share (Great women who just happen to be a little fatter than the rest), but I hate the camera. It always seems like its a hit or miss to my self-esteem. Sometimes I'll catch a picture of myself and I feel like I look absolutely gorgeous. Other times, well... I'm sure you get the point. Anyways, I can't figure out for the life of me why there isn't a button to restrict fools (or friends) from posting ugly pics without approval.
Sigh.
Maybe I need to start a FB group in support of one. Until then, I'm untagging.
Crown
Sigh.
Maybe I need to start a FB group in support of one. Until then, I'm untagging.
Crown
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