Sweet Charity

Tomorrow, I am going (hopefully with my dad) to the Planned Parenthood rally in NYC.

There are a million things wrong with the world, and there are a million things I could give money to, and it always makes my head hurt when I make these choices - do I give money to the amazing West Side Campaign Against Hunger that feeds people in my city?  Do I give money to Yale, for scholarships, because those scholarships allowed me to have an amazing college experience, and I want to give back?  Do I give to UNICEF?  Or to my choir, which is a non-profit that I am an active member of and who I love?  Do I give to The Trevor Project, a hotline for GLBTQ teens who are struggling?  Or Charity Water?  Or my friend Dale's amazing Cambodian charity RiverKids?

It's hard to choose.  I wish I didn't have to.  I feel like Dan Rydell every time.  (skip to 4:01 - this is one of my favorite Sports Night scenes ever.  Oh, Isaac.)

This week, I gave to Planned Parenthood, because there is a vote coming to the Senate that would defund all PP clinics in the country.  The House already passed it.  This is a vote with meaning, not just for Planned Parenthood as an organization, but for women and children and the poor who rely on places like PP for basic medical coverage.  It's also a vote to remind the country that abortion may be morally contested but it is LEGAL.  And it should stay that way.

Tomorrow I will go and stand with people who feel the same way, and make my voice heard.  It will be cold and long and amazing and uplifting and (probably) just a little infuriating, as all good political rallies should be.

But I am still annoyed that I can't give money to every one of those links above, and to a dozen more.  Someday.  Someday...

I want to feel good! So simple, omg!

How is it that I have not posted since before Thanksgiving!?  How!?


Once again, the title of my blog is a misnomer, because life has been anything but boring.  December was busy with work, school, choir and the usual holiday insanity.  January was spent trying to cram in as much fun as possible before school started up again.  (That happened on Wednesday.)  


In the meantime, I've been trying to get better about HAES, but there is a disconnect between "eat what you want" and "eat what is healthy" in my head that is really really hard to get rid of after thirty-three years of believing those two things could never peacefully co-exist.  When my body craves pizza, or salty chips, or a can of coke, I automatically assume there is something really WRONG with me, because those foods are WRONG.  


Foods are never wrong.  How much I eat of them is sometimes wrong, because I'm still getting attuned to my body's cues for hungry/full, and still pretty bad at eating on a schedule.  (Fun fact: if you haven't eaten breakfast regularly in ten years, it's really hard to get in that habit again!  Even when you know that eating a bagel and a banana in the morning makes you feel fantastic!)


Anyway, all of this was to introduces a blogger who I just discovered who writes things that make me literally stop in my tracks because they are so obvious and so true:

To me, “wanting” something means more than just liking how it tastes — it also means considering how it makes me feel. The two variables comes together in a sort of split-second cost-benefit analysis, each time I eat, to answer the eternal question, what do I want?

No matter what I end up choosing in any given situation, the answer is always the same: I want to feel good.

Everyone should go check out The Fat Nutritionist.  She hates shame, and hates the Fat Police and wants to treat you like a damn adult.  I think I love her, you guys.

Thanksgiving!

It's almost Thanksgiving, and I am Very Excited.  T-day is the one holiday a year that is mine, mine, mine - mainly because traveling to and from NYC is so terrible on those days that I can't even contemplate it, but also because it's the one major non-religious holiday that I can co-opt for my own cooking plans!  I'm not sure how many we're having this year - somewhere between 5 and 7, I think - and I'm already poking at the menu.  Last year, I made this amazing Golden Onion Pie which I loved, but which is just... too much onion even for me.  Like, I had plenty, but most people had a littttle sliver, which makes more sense, and then I had ALL THE LEFTOVERS EVER.  Also, for the amount of work it takes, the payout was decent, but it was still a lot of work.  (Note: making a huge batch of carmelized onions in the crock post SEEMS like it will work, but it really doesn't.)

I also made a Sweet Potato Gratin instead of my usual "sweet potatoes, cream, spices, butter, whiskey, marshmallows" concoction, mostly because I thought it would be more grownup.  Honestly?  It was delicious, but I missed my marshmallows!  And the leftovers weren't nearly as awesome.  So back to the basics this year!  A turkey breast (thank you, BJ's, for having them on sale for $1.99 a pound!), fresh gravy (thank you, America's Test Kitchen, for a kickass recipe!), stuffing from scratch, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole with marshmallows, roasted green beans (test run was a MASSIVE success), butternut squash (anyone having dental work that week?  we seem to have a lot of mashed things), and maybe another veg (*cough*brusselssprouts*cough*) if I get up the energy.  And rolls!  And cranberry jelly that is shaped like the can!  And maybe ham, because my roommate's dad is the best dinner guest ever!  And pies!

Anyway, I like thanksgiving.  It's an excuse for me to cook with heavy cream, pounds of butter and a ton of bacon, and everyone just says THANK YOU.

I'm also excited about my PRE-thanksgiving cooking, which will involve Swedish meatballs and lasagna and will feed us in style up to Thursday.  Cooking, man.  When in doubt, stress cook your way out of any situation.

What are you doing for T-day?  Are you doing all the cooking yourself?  Are you bringing a dish somewhere?  Are you not American, so I should shut up about this?  Share some recipes with me!

Let's start our morning with some bigotry, shall we?

This is one of the most disgusting, hateful things I have ever read.  And since I will in NO WAY be signing up for a Marie Claire ANYTHING to leave a comment, I will leave mine here:

I am fat.  I didn't get fat because I am the most disgusting person in the world, though I do like potato chips very, very much.  I got fat because my thyroid is wonky.  I got fat because of genetics.  I got fat because some people are just fat. 

No, I was never a big fan of organized sports.  Yes, I do like butter.  I can point you to about a dozen people I personally know who can say the same thing, and are not fat.  I am fat because I am fat.  I'm done blaming anyone in the world for that, including myself.

I am healthy.  Sure, my allergies act up, and I carry all my tension in my back and hips (as my massage therapist can tell you), but I live in a city where the only real way to get from A to B in a lot of cases is WALKING.  I take the stairs.  I move my body more than a lot of people.  I love plenty of vegetables and eat them regularly.  My cholesterol is fine.  I'm not diabetic.  All those HORRIBLE DISEASES that fat people get blamed for bringing on themselves?  I don't have them. (And if I did, studies linking my fatness to those diseases have been correlative (not causative) when they show any real link at all.)

I've worked really hard to like myself more over past year or so.  And part of that is trying to get past the awful stereotyping that this (horrible) woman at Marie Claire just dumped on the internet, yet again.  No matter how many times she attempts to justify her statements (in comments, never amended to the article itself), she never apologizes or admits that maybe, possibly, someone like me could actually exist without being ashamed to be seen in public. 

Fuck you, lady.  Just like you can't see inside my head to know exactly who I am and what I struggle with and what I DO NOT struggle with and how I'm not the awful person you surmise that I am from the fatness on the outside, I bet if I saw you cross a room I wouldn't know that inside, you are way more disgusting than any of the fat people you condemn.

*

I don't watch Mike and Molly for the exact opposite reason that Maura Kelly does - fat jokes are not funny to me, and this show hasn't found a tone I like yet.  But if they are showing fat people making out?  (Like the adorable and too-quickly-canceled Huge did?)  I might tune in.

I like traditionally hot people on my TV as much as the next guy or gal.  (Have any of you seen the new Hawaii 5-0?  Hot damn.)  But I think the word "traditionally" is key there - plenty of people are hot who we almost never GET to see on our TVs.  The couple in Mike and Molly may be fat, but they are also pretty damn attractive, and variety is the spice of life!

One more note:  If you took Ms. Kelly's article and substituted "gay" for "fat" ("I have a few friends who are gay", or "Those people aren't just gay, they're downright faggy!", or "I'm happy to send you some literature from my church group if you need it") would anyone other than right-wing nutjobs EVER think she was anything but a homophobe and a bigot?  Would Marie Claire have published this piece of hateful trash?  No.  And for a lot of people, being fat is as much of a lifestyle choice as being queer - that is, it is NOT.  It is who they are, and not all that changeable.  And, like queer kids, fat kids (and grownups) spend a lot of time hating themselves for who they are, dealing with a society that demonizes them, and doing really dangerous, self-destructive things to try and force themselves to be someone they are not.

This is an uphill battle folks.  But there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  Skim the article at MC if you want to, but then go check out the comments.  Nearly all of them rip Ms. Kelly a new one, and let her know that we're here, we're fat, and we're not about to put up with uninformed bigoted crap anymore.  Well done, ladies.  Well done.

no words.

Another suicide by a gay teenager, this time one who jumped off the bridge I can see from my street. Tyler Clementi, dead at 18, college freshman.

The whole story is gross and heartbreaking and upsetting, and whether his sexuality was the deciding factor in his suicide or not, it certainly can't be discounted.

Either this is reaching kind of epic proportions, or the media is finally putting the right label on a lot of teen suicides - they weren't suicidal simply because they were bullied (though that is enough).  They killed themselves because they couldn't bear to be who they were, because the world keeps telling gay kids that what they are is shameful, gross, perverted. 

They are none of those things.  They are perfect just the way they are.

Rest in peace Tyler, Seth, Asher, Billy, and all the other kids out there who couldn't see that it gets better.

Man, it really does get better.  Unless your college roommate is Dharun Ravi, who I hope gets the full weight of the law thrown at his FACE.

I just want to hug every queer kid in the world today.

Some days are less awesome than other days.

I feel like I'm failing myself this week - I am in a financially not great place, so whenever I don't bring my lunch (so it is "free"), I am punishing myself by not eating lunch.  Today, it is 4:12pm and I have eaten... a KitKat bar.  In fact, I haven't eaten before 5pm any day this week save Wednesday, when I ate lunch, but no dinner.

And my inner voice is thinking "serves you right" and also "maybe I can drop a few pounds this way", even while my body is really just screaming for a fucking sandwich, or a slice of pizza.  ANYTHING.

My relationship with myself might seem fierce in the good way, but I have bad weeks as often as not.

Next week - three squares a day, for which I will gladly pay (10 points if you know from what movie musical I bastardized that line).

Baby steps, people.

Photo by johnwilliamsphd on flickr.

I do not want to look like a couch!

I am not a Project Runway fan, mostly because my knowledge of and interest in fashion has always been nil.  But I do love me some Tim Gunn.  And now, I love him even more!  From an interview with Perez:

If I were to do a clothing line, it would be for sizes 16 and higher. Because I really believe that those women are truly a neglected population, and when I visit department stores and I go to the shop that’s called “woman,” I am horrified! Horrified by the awful, degrading, disrespectful choices that women have. It is mind boggling. I mean, selecting these gigantic prints, and it’s… I mean, who wants to look like a couch?

AMEN AND HALLELUJAH.  I would buy your clothes in a white-hot second, Mr. Gunn.

Thanks to BDFblog!