Thursday, February 16, 2012

The F Word

My dad has a cute story about when I was a little girl. I came home from school one day and told him about how I heard some kids saying the "F word" on the bus. Eventually he convinces me to tell him what the word was, and I tell him.


I thought "fart" was the f-word.

Today you think it's something else. But today I'm presenting a new F-word.


Fat is the new f-word.

I don't want it to be a bad word. In fact, I think it's be best possible descriptor for my body type. I don't like saying I'm "overweight." That word implies that my weight is something other than normal. But for me, this IS normal.

In my life, I've never known what it's like to be "normal," that is - to be thin. I've been "big" my whole life. At least as long as I can remember, since it meant something. So how can thin = normal if it's something I've never experienced?

I am fat. I'm not overweight. I am obese, but I don't like that word. It's so... clinical. So technical. And it just sounds... awful. I don't like that, and I don't like thinking of myself this way.

Can we change it so that "fat" isn't a bad word? I don't want to put people in an awkward place when I say that I'm fat (because that happens - I see it on their face - they want to agree with me, but don't want to actually say it because I might get offended).

All that being said, I'm not giving up entirely on the whole losing weight thing. I'm going to try again soon (not tonight), and maybe someday I'll describe myself as something other than fat. But it's who I am right now. I can't deny that. You can't deny that. But you also can't feel bad about it. I don't need your pity - that isn't the magic calorie burner we all secretly hope it is. I need support. Take me for who I am, for what I am, for what I look like. Don't judge me, just accept me, and be my friend.

Someday, soon, I'm going to need support, acceptance, and friendship. I'm going to need walking buddies and recipe sharers.

But for now, I just need you to realize that this is who I am for the time being. I'm fat. And I'm ok with that.

Oh, one more thing - can we all agree to stop pretending like people are stupid just because they're fat? We don't eat constantly, we know what it takes, and we're not idiots. We're also not going to keel over and die next week just because we're fat. Yes, we're at a higher risk for some medical conditions, but it's not a guarantee that we're never going to see 50. People die at young ages regardless of weight. And we're sick of hearing about it, so just give it a rest, ok? We're not stupid. We're just fat.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

The Misery of Neil Patrick Harris

Have you read Steven King's "Misery"? Have you seen the movie? I haven't. But I know the subject matter.

See that chap in the picture up there? His name is Neil Patrick Harris. I brought him home a few weeks ago. What followed was a series of Facebook status updates about NPH locked in the TV room in my basement. To the uninformed reader, it seemed like I had kidnapped the human Neil Patrick Harris, and had him hobbled and locked in my basement.

All fun-and-games aside, I've been... a frazzled kitty-mommy in these first few weeks. While he was shut up in the TV room, I was worried about his eating habits, how he was constantly hiding. Then one day after he had free reign of the house, I couldn't find him when I got home from work. I freaked out, crying like a lunatic. He was fine, just hiding in the furnace room where I never go.

He's a lot more comfortable now. He even ventures up the stairs when he's feeling brave. Of course, he's kind of become attached to me. He meows a lot. He actually comes when I call him (sometimes he takes his time, but sometimes he comes running). He likes being petted.

He's a strange cat. He has no interest in catnip, but he has been known to chase his tail. I've seen it happen. He seems to get sad and upset when I'm not paying attention to him. It's like I got a fluffy cat-shaped puppy that knows how to use a litter box. But he does purr a lot. I like the purring.

I like having a cat. It's nice to have a pet and a companion. But it's still new. I'm still getting used to it. But I'm happy.

I'm already in love with the Neil Patrick Harris who lives in my basement.