Sep 06

Spam, Little Dood, and Screw Drivers

So, today was going to be about writing, until something decided to install updates and I had to restart my computer. I used that time to decide that I should probably write about writing my book on my pen name’s website.

Instead you guys get pictures and a ramble! YaY for you!

I think I am the only blogger on Earth that reads their spam comments. Sometimes I find them entertaining. Sometimes I find them entertaining enough to even approve. It helps if they have names like penis enlargement or gun safety because I enjoy seeing those on my comments widget on my sidebar.  Gun safety told me I need to add more keywords in my blog titles, which is probably true, then told me they didn’t want to be an ass. I don’t know why, but I love it.

I did this strange time warp thing where I didn’t sleep again Sunday night. I took a short nap then kept writing. I went to bed last night really early and woke up many many hours later. One of three things is happening here: I hadn’t had iced tea in three days then drank it all day Sunday and the added caffeine kept me up, I am evolving into a new subspecies of humans that defy normal sleeping habits and run on a different biological clock, or my brain is just freaking out until I get this book finished. Come to think of it, it could be all three.

So I have two main distractions at my desk when I write, aside from the unholy interwebz, a tiny screwdriver that came with my external hard drive and a little jelly plastic monster dood. I took pictures!

I randomly come up with ideas for my zazzle shop. I need to start making images to put on things but I don’t really do images. (Yes, I know I just posted pictures but those won’t look good on a t-shirt. Holy shit I need a better camera.) I will think of something. I also need to start writing them down when I come up with them instead of hoping they stay in my head for when I sit down later to make them. I should know by now stuff doesn’t always stick in my head. (I will always remember that the Norman Invasion of England was in 1066 thanks to Dr. Hayden.) I am also trying to come up with a New Feminism T-shirt since I am on that path now. Maybe when I get my brain back. If I ever get my brain back.
 
Yep that is about of the it of my ramble. Have fun cats.

 

 

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Sep 03

Dear Sleeping Fairy

When I was a little girl my mom would tell us that sometimes when we went to sleep without struggling and we were particularly sweet, the sleeping fairy would come and sprinkle us with glitter.  I remember sitting by the window with my sister and looking for her and running to bed when we though we saw her.

My mom is brilliant.

It is 11 am and I got two hours of sleep last. I wrote until 4am so I could reach my goal of 40k words and I finally fell asleep at 6ish am. I woke back up 8:45am.  I am going to force myself to take a long nap. I learned week before last I am too damn old to miss an entire day off sleep. It takes me three days to recover.

I made a zazzle.com shop yesterday! Zazzle lets you create designs for things like t-shirts and stickers and they print them on demand. It is awesome. I came up with a few things last night. Clicky here if you want to see it.

Okay I am going to wander off to sleep.

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Sep 01

Random Funness

I don’t think funness is a word. Not really for caring. So I am not going to lie, I got so crazy busy today I forgot it was even Thursday.  I very rarely forget it is Thursday but I have been living more and more in the world of my book that I am nuts. I realized that when I talk about what I am currently writing I talk about my characters like they are actually real people.  So I am going to use my “it is September and I am going to focus my word writing on my book until it is done” excuse and leave you with this

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Aug 30

Begging Your Pardon

When I started this blog I set out to write 500 words every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. I haven’t written every one of those days and it hasn’t always been 500 words but I still stuck with that philosophy. September is going to be different.

I still plan on posting on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday but I am pouring most of my energy into my book. I am going to bust my little writing ass and try to get my first draft done in September. I know five hundred words doesn’t sound like a lot but it take me time and concentration to come up with things to write.  I would rather put that energy into writing my book. I feel like the sooner I can get that first draft done the less chance of me pulling a Selina and starting something but not finishing it.

So here is the deal-o people. I promise to post every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, but they might not be more than a picture or a video and some words. I will attempt to make them funny videos and words though. I will probably have some random days of big posts but who knows.

So, I am going to be a lazy when it comes to my blog. I will try to keep being entertaining. It is only temporary.  I need food now so I can go and write more bookness. I leave you with this thought:

Oh fuck it, I will do it myself /pick up sword

 

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Aug 28

Lolz A Letter to Dear Prudence,

Okay I know it is Sunday, not a normal blog day, but I found myself writing a letter to the advice columnist Prudie (Emily Yoffe) because of some advice she gave. I know it will never see the light of day through her column but I am posting it here because I like it. My site. I like it. I post it.

Dear Prudie,

First, your columns are one of my favorite things on the net. I love your frank advice that is actually applicable to real life. I just read an article, that the internet ate and I can’t find again, where you give advice to a man who met a woman online and found out she was overweight. His concern was that he felt he couldn’t be attracted to her and wondered if he should break it off.  I like your advice about waiting and just enjoying her company and seeing if something grew from it. I am unclear whether you were advising him to talk to her weight as an issue though. I am hoping you weren’t.

I’m a big girl. We live in a world where it is okay to sneer and judge and be down right cruel to people who aren’t thin.  I don’t get this treatment often because I am confident and I actually do love myself. (Also, I’m six foot tall and I am pretty sure people think being a jerk to me might end with them being harmed.) I’m insecure about my body, but so is every single person on this planet. I know that I don’t get as much initial sexual interest because of my size. I am okay with that. I am also okay with acknowledgements from partners that I am fat. I am not okay with criticism about it though.

Here is the truth: she knows she is fat. She knows he knows she is fat. If he makes a comment to her about it right now, it will torpedo her. He should just enjoy her company and try to find things about her that he does find physically attractive and focus on those features. In the name of all that is holy, I hope he wouldn’t say something along lines of “I don’t like that you are fat but I am with you anyway.” If the woman has any self worth she will say to him “I don’t like that you are a complete asshole, I am not going to stay with you.”

The reality is that everyone has things that people have to over look about their partner in order to be happy with them. The idea of the perfect person is crap. If he finds that he cannot get over her weight, then there are other issues. I’m fat. I also have a great butt and rack on top of being smart, funny, loving, kind, loyal, talented, and incredibly humble. I know some people won’t be able to get over their own prejudices to see anything beyond the fat. That is their issue, not mine. This girl deserves a man that will love her fully and try to make her feel incredible. Everyone deserves a partner who loves them and makes them feel desirable. We just need to move away from the idea that desire is purely physical and understand the mental aspects. People also need to understand that all people who are overweight know their size is unhealthy along with their habits. It also needs to be understood that most over eaters eat because of emotional issues. (Everyone is emotionally damaged goods, mine just shows up better than other peoples.) Harsh criticism IS NOT helpful.

Also, pro tip: If you want your mate to lose weight but you don’t want to be an ass, make it a drive to be healthier together.  “Hey, Babe, I think we need to eat better and exercise more together. Why don’t we come up with a plan together to do that?” Not “Hey, lard ass, lay off the chips and twinkies and run some.” If you are not willing to change your diet and increase exercise too to make a healthier life for your family than you should not complain about your mate.

With many regards,

Selina aka Beautiful Fat Girl

 

 

 

 

Okay so, here is the funny. I read the article wrong.  I found it to link to Kathleen and reread it. Turns out her advice was golden and I am just insane. This lead to a second letter:

Dear Prudie,

I just wrote you a long letter and I stand by everything I said in theory. It turns out I need to learn to read things more thoroughly before I write impassioned letters. Yep, your advice was sterling, as it is 99.999% of the time. Sorry I made you read that long ass diatribe for nothing.

With many apologizes,

Selina, Still a Beautiful Fat Girl

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Aug 27

My Friends are Awesome.

The screen shot from a Facebook conversation

This is why I love my friends

 

This my post for today. This is my awesome friends. I am copping out again because I would rather be writing my book and this took a long damn time to so because I am unskilled. Enjoy

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Aug 25

New Things I Know

I have had a streak of learning new and interesting things recently:

I used to be able to skip nights of sleep with out much recourse. Holy shit, I can not anymore. Monday night I could not sleep and I was going to see Tina Tuesday morning. at 5:30 I was surfing Facebook and saw her. I decided to just go and see her. I took a two hour nap at her house later. That is all the sleep I got until after midnight. I was fine Tuesday and had a great time. Wednesday hit me like a freaking train. Thursday is not being much more kind. I just want to lay in bed and drink water.  I need to write a letter to my twenty year old self and send it back in time. Number 1, moisturize and appreciate your skin and number 2, enjoy those nights of missing sleep with little effect. They get gone baby.

There is a secret language to bed making. How your bed sheets are folded down at the top tells you whether if the sheets have been slept on and remade,  if they are freshly washed, or if no one has slept in them but they haven’t been washed in awhile. I don’t remember exactly how you tell, but I know that there is something that you do to indicate it.

There is a magazine called Garden and Gun. No really, there is. I was going to take a picture for you but my camera ate them.  It says something about being the magazine for the new South. I wish now I would have read it because I think it might have been interesting. Still don’t believe me? Click here.

All humans start out looking like sea monkeys.

Photography is fascinating. I love when Tina explains stuff about her camera and how to take pictures to me. Also, one of the many reason I will always love her parents is because they have encouraged her. Fred made a great business move and an even better Dad move when he gave her that camera and took her under his wing. She, Kathleen, and I are going to be famous together. It will be brilliant.

My thirties are going to be better than other peoples twenties. I just won’t be able to skip nights of sleep like the young ones can.

I am really happy. I feel like I am doing what I am supposed to be doing. I know myself better than ever and I like myself more than ever.  Things are not perfect but they are still good.

I need to give up the flip flops and get some real shoes that are easy to slip on and work with both skirts and jeans.  I beat the pair I have been wearing into submission. If I walk too much in them my feet and legs die. Well, they don’t die, they are far too angry to be dead.

I like telling people that I am a writer and now I say it without feeling like such a hack.

Myriad Gardens have blue emergency poles that remind me of the TARDIS and I am in love with them.

I think that is all the new things I know.

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Aug 22

To My Best Friend on Her None-of-Your-Damn-Business-ith Birthday

(Writer’s note: Tina has a blog about being a mommy and on her blog she wrote a letter to both of her children for their birthdays. It gave me this idea. I am not making fun of her or mocking her, it is more like paying homage. Yes, I did say homage in my head with a bad fake pretentious British accent and now you will too.  Oh, and this blog will probably be sappy and weird. If you don’t like it go watch TV.)

I know today is not your birthday. Today is the day we are celebrating your birthday and it is also Tuesday, so close enough.   I remember the first day we met. It was my very first day of college classes ever and I had decided to talk to everyone and not be shy and you were in my Art Survey Class with Ryanne. I remember you were the strange woman wearing an Arlo Guthrie t-shirt, a bandana as a headband, and a broom stick skirt. I don’t know how I remember any of this. I just do.

We liked each other okay at first and we grew to be friends. I always admired you and tried to learn from you so I could figure out what kind of woman I wanted to be. All these years later it is still true. I still admire you, I still learn from you, and you still help me know what kind of woman I want to be when I grow up.

You are the most considerate, kindhearted person I know.  Your friendship has saved me more than once (my mom says so too.) I have been blessed to be a part of your life and to watch you how you handle everything. You are the epitome of “many whelps, HANDLE IT.” You are open with me and show me wonderful and terrifying glimpses into being a wife and a mother that make me see how truly wonderful life can be. You have shown me strength in pain and moving on from terrible things. You have also let me wallow and whine when I needed it and told me to put on my big girl panties and deal with it when I needed that too.

You support me and make me believe that I can be something great. You show me how beautiful I am when I need it the most. You put up with my whiny emo temperament like a champ. You are so damn smart. You are brave and you are a little scary when you are mad.

I am so lucky to have friendship like yours in a world that holds any close relationships outside of marriage and blood as suspect and unnecessary.  You brought me into your family and gave me another place to belong. (Which is a big deal to a girl who spent the first 17 years of her life never feeling like she had anywhere to belong.) You helped fill my life with love and family and organic banana baby cookies. I will never be able to say thank you enough.

Thank you for everything and for being you

I love you

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Aug 20

Getting What You Asked For

So today I checked my spam box (my self worth directly correlates to the amount of comments I get on my site, spam included) and I found that a a guy spamming for penis enlarging pills felt that my blog was pretty good but it needed more images. I take terrible photos no matter how good the camera so I normally don’t bother but when the penis enlargement guy asks for pictures, by god, you give him pictures. I dug out the twenty dollar piece of crap camera I bought months ago and put batteries in it and took pictures. I only took pictures of stuff in my room because I was too lazy to take pictures anywhere else.

I get the feeling no one will ever request photos again.

zomg a book shelf

I have two book shelves. This is the least crappy one

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is where ALL of the MAGIC happens. One day when I am famous this desk will be worth MILLIONS

This is my beat up scary bookshelf tha is full of shit and about to collapse any second

Another bookshelf

Just because I love redundancy

 

Table beside my bed

Did I mention my camera was terrible?

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Aug 18

I AM a Girl ThankYouVeryMuch

Last night I got accused of something I have never been accused of in my life: I was told I am too femme (feminine).

It was pretty shocking for me. I have been told I am too masculine by a few people (mostly by insecure men) but never that I was too feminine. The comment came from a woman who had said she hated women because she couldn’t relate to anything they talked about and they seemed silly and inconsequential. At first I was a bit hurt and it made me feel insecure about whether or not I had become some sort of air headed do-do that only thought about lip gloss and hair products. I posted on Facebook and my friend Sara made me feel better. I left the comment alone for awhile and went back to writing.

Later Kathleen and I talked about it. Kathleen is incredibly insightful and has exposed herself to some of the best of the most intelligent material on the interwebz. While the rest of us are looking at funny pictures of cats and naked people, Kathleen is reading about things going on in the world. She had shown me the video below a few days ago, so we had a previous base of conversation started. Watch the video. It is brilliant but feel free to fast forward through the spoken word poem at the end. It isn’t bad, for spoken word poetry.

Kathleen went to sleep and I put it out of my mind as I wrote some more. When I finally decided to sleep I laid in my bed and thought about the comment more. I wrote a fiery blog in my head but then I fell asleep. I have been thinking about it more all day. I think I have decided what I think about it all.

I understand the comment and I understand why the woman felt that way. I used to feel the same way.

When I was younger I believed that things that were womanly or girly were weak. I used to think that if you cared about how your hair looked or if you admitted to liking makeup you were somehow inferior. I was smart and strong and therefore had to be masculine and reject my emotional and feminine side. I work to be aggressive and to be competitive. I also saw my physical self as ungraceful and unfeminine because I am not just tall but I am also broad shouldered and I am strong like ox. (Yes, I know I would be less stocky if I lost weight, thanks for pointing that out jerkface, but I would still be broad shouldered and big framed.) In my mind I decided if I wasn’t like the other girls around me then I must be masculine. My strong opinions, personality, and my disinterest in slavishly molding myself into some sort of sexy barbie made me feel even less like a proper girl. My humor even made me feel less comfortable in my girl skin. I decided that since I was funny and I had no desire to build my self esteem based on whether or not I had a boyfriend I couldn’t be a proper girl. I shot all the way in the other direction.

I developed society’s disdain for all things soft and female. Think about it. Think about the things we say when someone is being irrational or over emotional:

Don’t be such a girl

Ugh you are being such (word for female gentalia)

Don’t be so butt hurt (because you got penetrated up the rear and being penetrated makes you weak like a woman.)

Okay I will stop with that one.

As I grew older, I started slowly becoming more comfortable in my own skin. I saw these incredibly strong kick ass women around me who were still very feminine. I realized I really don’t enjoy forcing myself to be aggressive and trying to bludgeon people over the head with my superiority. I am soft but that softness has made me a lot stronger than I ever was when I was an armored tank. I love my softness because it shapes some of my very favorite things about myself.

It is my softness that allows me to empathize with people I love when they are in pain. I can take care of people much better with an open heart than trying to force myself into pure logic. Life isn’t logical and neither is pain. It is my softness that gives me so much joy in my nieces and nephews and wanting to pick them up and smother their faces in kisses. My femininity is the part of me that gives me the courage to walk through the world trying my best to be kind and open and to care about people I don’t know even though it is painful and scary and not always appreciated and sometimes it is so hard and heavy.  My femininity is the part of me that will go into a bloody battle with anything or anyone that threatens the people I love.

I have found that my femininity doesn’t make me weak, it makes me far far stronger than I was when I denied it.

Plus, I am now okay with my obsession with eyeliner and getting my hair done.

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