“Writing became such a process of discovery that I couldn’t wait to get to work in the morning: I wanted to know what I was going to say.” ~Sharon O’Brien
I had to make a quick trip to Pentagon City to return two dresses to Nordstrom. If you ask why I went all the way to Pentagon City for this return it is because it’s far easier to hop on the metro on my (FREE) trip to DC to return something to Nordstrom than drive the four hours to the closest locale. Each time I am reminded that I live so far from what used to mean so much to me – I mean THE SHOES. Good God Almighty, THE SHOES – I hang my head down and pout. Which reminds me of a very bratty story that I must share that involves me crying on the street of Puerta del Sol because I hated Madrid with every fiber of my being because I couldn’t find shoes in my size and I begged my mother to let me come home. I stayed, but again to use the Lord’s name in vain: GOOD GOD.
Anyway, during today’s sojourn, I stopped in Sephora to purchase lip product. I returned back to my hotel later with one warm and fully functional hand and another hand with bluish-gray finger tips because the temperature in DC had dropped to Upstate NY on a good day levels. I hurriedly opened my new product and behold, IT HAD BEEN USED. It was clear lip product with a trace of lip gloss on it and smeared all over the top and again GOOD GOD, I may have thrown up a little. So I plan to trek my ass to Sephora when I get home and complain loudly about why they’re selling pre-used lip product. Because no one wants red berry stain on their brand new lip moisturizer.
I’m still flummoxed by the events of the last month and I know, I KNOW I should shake those feelings off with a little shimmy but I cannot. The Things are still swirling about but one of The Things needs to see the light of day because I’m still not over this my uncle calling me fat/my mother not defending me/him smirking and quoting some parable when I told him I was highly offended/him writing a comment on my blog about my reader’s lack of intelligence/why weight is such a highly sensitive issue/the fucking fantastic photo of him eating fried chicken with all of the above as a caption. But really, why is it OK for overweight men to loudly mock the way women look? Why is it OK for someone you are related to be purposefully hurtful and when you say, “Hey! That made me cry!” they respond with a guffaw and quote the Bible? I’m not seeing the OK with any of these things.
But wait! There’s more! I’m going to try something different with this site to hone in on what little writing ability I have. Trust me, if you’ve read any earlier entries you’re probably thinking that I’ve improved right the fuck up and deserve a gold medal AND a bong hit, but alas, there’s still more perfecting to do. My friend Jen says that I’m very efficient about things and I pondered this and realized that yes, I am and my efficiency is going to either work out for me in the end or I’ll end up a failure with shitty narrative skills. We shall see. That said, I have a bit of a crush on Plinky. I tested it in Beta and thought, “I don’t get it” and now I do. It’s full of prompts and a few of the prompts have brought back memories. Like the one that asked, “Describe the coolest thing you’ve seen in another country”. And I responded with the penis I saw on the ground in Pompeii, Italy depicting where the nearest brothel was located. Oh, the Italy stories, like trying to escape and being left to fend for myself in Rome and crying and being in love and the world’s greatest puffy coat jacket with removable sleeves and a fondness for gelato. A simple prompt gets the cauldron of memories to rumble and boil over. So there are stories. Lots of stories to tell and I’m all giddy with anticipation to tell you all about it.
17 Comments
Your not fat. There is nothing wrong with you. He’s an idiot.
I ranted about society’s obsession with weight over at jodifur today and I stand behind it.
I wish I could have seen you tonight just so I could have given you a hug.
OK, so not to downgrade what you’re dealing with in regards to your uncle, et al, but this is how I feel when the press calls Britney Spears (or Jessica Simpson these days) fat. I am personally demanding a photograph of every reporter/writer/blogger who had the b-a-l-l-s to call these women FAT ’cause I want to see what they look like… I doubt they would have room to talk.
Why are people such assholes?
I have another question. Can your blog see the future? Is it in a different time zone? B/c it’s 7:19 and it’s posting everything an hour later. Weird.
I think it is clairvoyant.
Unfortunately…where uncles are concerned (and here, I’m assuming your uncle’s age is approximately close to what one could call OLD), the rule that applies is “respect your elders.” There’s no way around this (just ask Miss Manners).
It’s fine to talk about it here, because, hey, there’s no question that your uncle was rude and disrespectful. But around family, you’ve got to let it go.
The next time he is rude like that, I think you should do an about-face and march out of the room.
He’s not OLD. He’s actually in his late 40′s with two very young children. One is a girl. And while I understand the “respect your elders” sentiment I am more upset with the culture of (some) men being degrading to women about their weight and the way women go at each other when it comes to body image issues. The future post will explain more. But really it offended me because when I told him that it legitimately hurt my feelings and the reason for the excessive weight gain, his wife said, “I’m really sorry. Yet that isn’t any of my business and I told him what he said was wrong”. He said seriously quoted The Bible and told me that I should just get over it. So yes, I am calling him out on it because there is a much larger issue here.
I really like this rambling style. It is perfect. Sorry about your uncle. He really should be more careful to live the Bible, rather than just beat you over the head with it.
It’s not okay for “overweight men to loudly mock the way women look? Why is it OK for someone you are related to be purposefully hurtful and when you say, ‘Hey! That made me cry!’ they respond with a guffaw and quote the Bible.” You’re uncle is obviously just a clueless jerk with no class. His opinion should be completely disregarded in the future, and personally I would avoid him like the plague.
still trying to figure out plinky…
also…i live in canada. the land of NO department stores. yes. we have no Nordstrom.
my mother-in-law constantly makes comments about my weight. when josh was a few weeks old, she turned to me and said “it’s time you start losing that baby weight now” and once when i was about to eat a piece of cake she puffed her cheeks out at me and made this “oh hell no, you aren’t planning to eat that, are you?” to this day, i will NEVER be able to respect her.
I know you don’t know me, but I read your blog as often as you post and I want you to know it always makes me happy when you a new entry.
That said, I totally understand how you feel about your uncle. I was in England with my grandfather and an older couple with whom he and my late grandmother used to play cards. We were living on a canal boat for two weeks traveling through the back country. I don’t know how much you know about canal boats, but basically they are really skinny and require a fair amount of work to go through the locks. Anyway, I had just finished my freshman year of college and loving the trip. I walked outside for miles a day and opened all of the locks. One night at a pub the gentleman (I use that term very loosely) made some crack about how I had ordered chips (fries) with my meal and how I better watch out before I got fat. Bare in mind he was easily over 400 pounds and had both knees replaces and part of his intestines removed due to blockage. I was NOT fat or even close to it. Yeah. Thankfully my grandfather gave him an earful. Love my grandfather.
So, long ramble to say that I totally support you and you are not fat and I think you are gorgeous.
Dude, I read that Plinky prompt and immediately thought of something and then didn’t post it. So even though Plinky prompted me, my own self-editing button, which has grown larger than my brain, stopped me.
I hope you have more luck with it.
Your uncle is an insensitive prick. Frankly, I am a bit surprised at your mother for laughing. How could she? From what you’ve written about her here, that is the last reaction I would have expected from her. Heather, I don’t know you except for what you choose to share with us here. From what I have seen, you are NOT fat, you are pretty, talented and smart. Hold your head up high and flip ‘em the bird.
I think I am boycotting Sephora. I got talked into buying $22 mascara that smells like turpentine and the $6 Maybelline does a MUCH better job.
What? There are earlier entries?!
Italy stories! I can’t wait to hear those. I just went last May, so I want to compare notes!
I’m new here but I follow you on Twitter. Your uncle is an asshole. Just sayin.
And the Sephora thing is just ewwww. Ewww.
That is so damn gross! How do you get sold used lipstuff! I love Pentagon City but I guess I’ll never shop at Sephora…good thing I don’t wear makeup anyway. ;o)
Love your blog (found you via Chris Jordan’s)
Hi! New reader… I’ve seen you on the pages of Metalia, Ali, and NotesFromTheTrenches and I decided to see what all the fuss was about- glad I did!
Your uncle? Is an idiot. Seriously.
Oh and Sephora? I’m keepin an eye on them!
Sorry that happened to you, Heather. Male family members commented on my weight when I was an adolescent and it really messed with my head. And as far as respecting elders, Miss Manners can have it. Abuse does not deserve respect.
I love Plinky too.