Blog Archives

This Thanksgiving I am Fat and Grateful (these things are not related)

Obligatory image reminder that this post will at some point mention Thanksgiving. Also I drew this today at work. Be jealous.

They say that you know you’re gaining weight when black guys start hitting on you.

I’m not sure if anyone says this.

But I know I am gaining weight because aside from black guys hitting on me and the self-abusive conversation I have with myself each morning about the progression of my third trimester (I’m not pregnant), I recently got a speeding ticket. I know that is not a measurable factor here, but I have never been ticketed in the past. This is typically what happens when I get pulled over:

I lean out the window and ask, frantic and alarmed:

“IS EVERYTHING OKAY?!?!?!”

As if I am being pulled over to counsel him on marital troubles or American Idol voting techniques. He replies something about a child chasing a ball, and no crossing guard around, and federal imprisonment. I sigh, relieved, and hand him my license, unable to find my insurance or car registration.

After about 12 minutes of probing questions, among other things 😉 I am asked to avoid schools zones and any properties containing live, white children, and detour through the ghetto anytime I want to drive recklessly.

Pretty solid.

But unfortunately that only works when your body is not protruding past the restraint of your seat belt and your eyes aren’t being forced back into their sockets by pounds of cheek and eyebrow fat. Therefore I maintain that the only explanation for my receiving a ticket is the blubber effect. Definitely not the driving 53 in a 25. No. That can’t be it.

I’m blaming my weight gain on a number of factors, most of which I will not have the time or patience to tell you about. Here are three I can stomach. Hehehe. I’m so clever.

1. My ever increasing American guilt. Perhaps it is my preference to radical liberal politics over false patriotic conservative politics that results in the inordinate amount of time I spend each day mourning Middle Eastern people I will never meet. Not just because they’re dead. But mostly because they’re dead. This leaves me depressed and anxious and forced to resort to binging on food no Middle Eastern person would ever eat. Not just because they’re dead. But, really, mostly because they’re dead.

2. Sushi. When eaten by Japanese people or bulimic teenagers, sushi can be very healthy. But when eaten by an American woman at a Chinese buffet 10 minutes away from her house, once a weekend, sometimes twice, depending on how much she hates herself that day, it is not good. It is embarrassing. Not quite a “legitimate rape” comment, but definitely a “binders full of women.”

Too excellent to not be shared

3. Co-workers birthdays and other work-related food-oriented events. Every day in my office someone is either turning 50, hitting menopause, or inviting a politician to tour the school, all of which are equally disgraceful and handled with mass quantities of food. Even when I am trying to eat healthy I am bombarded with oatmeal cookies, or cheddar cheese slices, or Halloween candy hoarded away in my desk drawer. There is no escape!

I realize this doesn’t sound like a Thanksgiving Day post yet, but allow me to explain. My obsession with my weight sounds a little insecure. But I’m okay with that. In fact, I’m grateful that I am insecure and in a constant state of emotional anguish. Why? It keeps me from being a dick.

If you know anything about me, you know that the leading cause in my life is asshole prevention. If I lost weight and became confident and hot, I’d become even more self-involved and arrogant than I already am, and before you know it I’d be someone really evil like Kourtney Kardashian.

So to sum this whole thing up, this Thanksgiving I am grateful for many things.I am grateful for insecurities that keep me grounded. I am grateful for police officers that don’t tase me. I am grateful for the black guys who hit on me. I am grateful for my sister who is a registered dietician who will help me lose weight again. I am grateful for my boyfriend who I never talk about but exists quite fully in my life. I am grateful for the new wiper blades on my car.  But lastly I am  grateful for this, taken from the Facebook page of a person I actually know:

Doesn’t get much better than that.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody! I hope you are all grateful for something (me).

Love,

The girl who last year was thankful for assholes, but this year is thankful for mouths. Ew.

“I Got it From My Mama” – GWTB Mother’s Day Edition

This makes my mother nervous; my blogging about her. I told her it will only be mildly humiliating, to which she responded with a giggle, then a sigh, then a blank stare, then an assertion that no one reading is a God so who cares. Right.

Right.

But since I am writing this for Mother’s Day, it is probably best that I don’t do anything so offensive the she decides to revoke my dowry (what?). Instead I decided to honor my mother, by highlighting three of the personality traits she passed onto me during labor, with three of my favorite quotes.  

  1.  “She’s destroying my world.”

 – my mother, referencing Molly, our 6 pound shih tzu.

The Drama – Always too hot and never cold enough, my mother passes her time getting “seriously depressed” by driving past a Pizza Hut she had lunch at once in 1987 and speaking in long-winded, passionate diatribes before saying things like “I’m not even that upset about it.”

 

2. “She looks like she walks around with a 24/7 yeast infection.”

– my mother, referencing Cynthia Nixon from Sex and the City

The Inappropriateness – You wouldn’t know by looking at her, but my mother can out talk a sailor most days of the week. She’d never admit such a thing, but the words I have heard her use in reference to power struggles with Molly, the 6 pound shih tzu, have been so shocking, I could only reply with a gasp and a trip to the fainting chair. When you call her on such things, reminding her that her language/comments/general thought process is highly inappropriate she throws her head back and laughs joyously before muttering the phrase, “I’m only teasing.”

3.  “My God, I just want to gnaw my foot off!”

– my mother, referencing her life.

Restlessness – Beekeeper, woodcarver, guidance counselor, chocolatier, dried flower florist,   field biologist, children’s book author, lawyer, college professor. All career paths my mother has considered…in the last two years.

All in all, she’s f***ing nuts, in a way well within her control. But if she were not her, I would not be me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mama Bear!

Love,

The girl you pushed out the easiest