After watching Ken Burns’ PBS series “Prohibition”  this week (three parts, each two hours – you can watch online at the link), it is no small wonder to me how anyone could see the similarities between the 1920’s and now. I would venture that every era, every generation has some social swell of some specific issue or struggle to address and/or overcome. Why, right now, we’ve got a tome’s worth! I am thinking about our social climate. Our financial struggles. The environment. Our prison industrial complex. So many things all going down those proverbial tubes. We’re all scratching our heads, clenching our fists, muffling our sobs and hoping beyond all reasonable hope that something will give, something will improve…it has to!

Prohibition began as a moral movement. Basically, how I took it, was a religious/conservative group gathered and organized on the platform that alcohol consumption led to corruption, prostitution, spousal abuse and other criminal activities. They believed the only solution was to prohibit, enforce and criminalize alcohol in all of its many forms. Does this sound familiar? No? Okay, consider for a moment the bootlegging that took the place of saloons and brewers. Many people died as a direct result of the illicit ways people got and distributed the booze. Think of the doctors prescribing whiskey as medicine, if you knew the right doctor that is, medicinal use being legal even after the nationwide ban on alcohol. Yet the consumption of alcohol itself wasn’t technically illegal. In fact you could make your own wines at home as many families did back then.

Many saw prohibition as a direct attack on immigrants who held fast to their cultures and rituals and often saw nothing at all wrong with alcohol. Suddenly self-appointed rabbis of any background were enjoying their own private supply as this, due to its religious significance, was also still legal. Soon petty thieves found themselves knee-deep in opportunity and flush with loads of cash for any and all liquor they could get their hands on. With this money came power they hadn’t the conscience nor education to put to good use (my opinion mind you). And basically, all hell broke loose! Speakeasies were raided, people were killed in clumsy displays of not in my backyard and many were jailed for periods far outweighing their crimes.

Sound familiar yet? Okay, let me put it this way, there are a lot of problems we currently have in this country. Many of these same problems were happening back in the twenties, too. The solution for the lack of jobs, floundering economy, a country overcome by unemployment and despair: end prohibition! How did they do it after such a long and successful battle by those who sought to turn this country into some sort of moral compass for the world? They found the right woman for the job! She had money, connections, charisma, power and above all else, she was fearless!

Right now we could fix a lot of our problems both environmental and economic. We need sustainable products to replace things like cotton, paper, oils, etc…we need to create jobs and fast…we need new revenue to get our deficit down and our economy flowing again! The solution: end prohibition…of cannabis!!! Think about it, it got its bad name and reputation because of a certain media mogul of those same roaring twenties: William Randolph Hearst! Hemp threatened his empire and so he sought to destroy it and whoa did he?! This may be my lay person’s grasp of it, but he did more than just destroy the industry itself. What he did (or eventually happened) was outright demonize not just hemp but cannabis itself in all of its various forms and uses.

There in lies the problem. Our prohibition of cannabis has turned petty crooks into power hungry lunatics. Ordinary citizens into life-sentence-serving prisoners thanks to steep drug laws, ravenous politicians and corrupt law enforcement and judges…not to mention California’s three strikes law. Ugh! That needs to be repealed, man. By ending prohibition on cannabis and repealing all laws to restrict, enforce, criminalize, stigmatize and whatever else they’ve chosen to throw at us, we could actually improve our entire socioeconomic situation!

New taxes! State-run dispensaries! Safer access! Hemp fiber industry jobs! We could actually bring manufacturing back to the USA with hemp. We could corner the market and find new ways to use the stuff. My husband was just telling me about the dire situation every winter in the colder parts of our country where senior citizens are forced to choose between heating oil and other necessities due to the endless rate hikes in oil. Hemp seed oil would be so much cheaper! Hemp is stronger than cotton, too. My grandpa had an old hemp rope that seemed a thousand years old. Ha-ha!

After watching the final installment of “Prohibition” last night I told my husband that what was needed to end the prohibition of cannabis was the right person to represent the movement. Someone with charisma and power. Someone well-connected and hopefully with lots of money! Someone who understood the impact and improvements possible with its repeal. I don’t know who that person could be, but I do believe that this simple thing could truly help us as a nation. If we can just step away from the stigma of it and focus on the hard facts, I think it could make a real difference.

I know that this post has absolutely nothing to do with fat, but it was on my mind in a big way. I spent the first part of this week very depressed. I’m not sure I’m out of it completely yet, certainly the police activity in my area has not been great for my anxiety and paranoia, but part of it is absolutely the economy and how it has ravaged my life and those I love. The arguments against cannabis are preposterous, absurd and full of stereotypes and stigma. I have yet to actually meet a person who is anti-cannabis. Even people who have never used it recreationally (as a drug or whatever) still understand its many varied and great uses and how it could improve our economy. It is something I believe in made all the more clear thanks to Ken Burns and his fabulous documentary series. I admit that I have always felt a deep connection to the prohibition era and it will always be an important era in my heart and mind. But that my lovelies is a post for another day…

Thank you for reading. Do share your thoughts on the topic. I would love to hear your suggestions, too. Take care of YOU!

!

My interview outfit from last night. Ugh! You can’t really tell, but the tights are a violet purple. I’m wearing t-strap mary jane docs (with a chunky square heel). The dress is from Eshakti (I don’t see black available but it’s come back before, also, splurge and get the custom sizing for $7.50, it’s so worth it!). Clutch is Avenue from several years ago and the headband, as always, from Ross (dress for less).

I don’t know if I got the job. The whole thing was a bit strange and not in the awesome way I had hoped. I couldn’t read the interviewer well and while I think she liked me, she seemed to believe the job was  beneath me. I am sick of that! Just give me a job, people! Who cares if my talents and abilities are beyond what the job will utilize, let me suffer through it if I must! Ha-ha! But she did say I was the most elegantly dressed interview she’d had all week. My response, “Thank you! I’ll remember that!” What? I know! I say silly things that make no sense to me. When I said that to my husband he said, “Well, you will remember that.” He’s right. ha-ha! Oh well.

I’m not terribly excited about the job anymore. Turns out I had it confused with another job listing. Ugh! My brain! She fucks with me sometimes. I am quite embarrassed actually. So, the job listing I thought it was, was for a “Bad Ass” admin…the job I interviewed for yesterday? “Office manager/admin” Shit! I wrote the word “Bad Ass” all over my screening submission! I’m an ass! Oh well. It wasn’t as creative/exciting a place as I’d imagined anyway. It was kind of fun to get excited about something so unknown for a minute and I did school them on “the obesity epidemic” bullshit they’d bought into prior to my submission. To quote a White Stripes song, “Oh well oh well oh well!”

It’s Friday! I’m in a good mood despite the fucked up and weird week I’ve had and just chillin’ with my puggyman today:

Also, going to finally test out my new and bizarre espresso machine this weekend! Just gotta get a couple of supplies this afternoon and I’m set. What beans did this connoisseur of coffee ultimately buy? The Garuda Blend from Peet’s! Ha-ha! I can’t get enough of that stuff (whole bean always and forever babies!)!

Many years ago (let’s just leave it at more than ten), a friend of mine took a women’s studies class in college and was just beginning to tell me about it. And sadly, my knee-jerk reaction was something along the lines of, “Fuck that femi-nazi shit!” *HeadDesk* I’m really sorry “Q”! I see the error of my ways now.

You see, I used to believe that women weren’t to be trusted. That I couldn’t get along with them or they me. That somehow I just couldn’t “put up with their bullshit” and well, I was all kinds of wrong. I mean? Well, I’m a woman, why on earth did I feel this way? How did I get so off-course? *Sigh* It happens. I didn’t have a strong female figure in my life growing up and certainly, for awhile at least, every gal I got close to would hurt me. So I made up this strategy/philosophy and let it dictate my own fears and comforts for many many years.

As I get older and wiser (one hopes anyway), I learn more and more about how the media/marketing and all sorts of other influences can make us hate our own gender. My husband often apologizes for the crimes against women, humanity and nature on behalf of his gender. I didn’t used to feel so loyal or affiliated with my own gender. But that all changed the further I got into the fat liberation (acceptance) movement. How could I continue to distance myself from an entire gender when it was the very group who were inspiring me everyday? The short answer: I couldn’t!

The at liberation (acceptance) movement has shown me time and again new ways of thinking and being and feeling. Not in some cultist way, mind you, but in very positive, common sense and even life affirming ways. I had no idea what I was missing out on! Not having a nurturing figure in my life (well, that’s a complicated story for another time), I missed out on lots of things and am only now figuring out things like eyeliner and tights and stuff like that! More so, the deep love and compassion a woman can give to another in a way that is neither sexual nor sisterly.

And I fucking love women! Women get shit done! Women are known for talking/chatting/gossiping? Huh! More like planning, organizing, plotting! I never used to believe in or apply the label to myself, but dammit, I’m a modern feminist! I’m not afraid to tell the world. No matter how weighty that word can be (and how convoluted it’s become sadly), feminism to me is simply believing in equality…for all! Go read my “about” page and you’ll see that that is a major thing for me. And I have no patience or tolerance for hate, not from the world and not from anyone in my life! None. Life is too short and too awesome to waste on that shit. And if you’re someone who spews hate at “skinny bitches” and shit like that? Check yourself, hun, please?! It’s judgment, plain & simple! And unnecessary! We need to get beyond this.

Now? Now I have more female than male friends (big switch from my past). Now I know some of the most beautiful, smart, powerful, creative, talented, wondrous women in the world! Women who fuel my passion for fat liberation. Women who inspire me and motivate me. Women who bare their souls to me without ever meeting me. Women who have survived horrible abuses who live to see another day and share their stories so that maybe just one woman will be saved from that pain. Women who lay their own lives on the line in the name of justice. I know these women. I am these women. You are these women! And we are an amazing species that have evolved and adapted and grown over millions of years.I am so proud to be a woman because of all of you.

I see men in a different light, too. Men who have touched my heart and my life in ways I didn’t think possible. Men who will just as quickly lay their lives on the line for our cause. Men who believe in supporting us and letting us shine or stepping up and helping in any way that they can. We need them just as much as they need us. This isn’t a competition. This is nature. The nature of our species and the nature of our world. Thank the stars above we have this very moment to breathe it all in and relish in the knowledge that we can choose to help and care for each other rather than battle. And I feel for the guys who didn’t or don’t have women to teach/show them things to help them understand the world, themselves and women, too.

I recently heard someone say that you can always tell when a guy grew up without sisters or women around. It made me think about it for awhile. It’s scary! To only really see one side of the world (in a way)? It is no wonder than many guys see feminists the way I used to. And I can say that they just haven’t been exposed! They haven’t seen the truth! I highly recommend this book to anyone who is even slightly interested, “Misogyny: The World’s Oldest Prejudice” (and you can get it for a steal!). I had no idea how long and how awful women were treated and why they were treated so terribly.  It is a great read, educational for sure, but informative in ways I hadn’t imagined.

Thank you for reading. Take care of YOU!

After all of that magical fun I had all this past weekend, I’m am as down as can be at the moment. It is as though it’s suddenly hit me that the last three years were sort of an era and it has come to a close. Not just my cafe, though that is a major part, but I am losing friends to this bullshit economy…STILL!!!

Monday night my closest friends/chosen family went out to karaoke for one last hurrah for our friend Tom who is moving back to the east coast today. I even managed to get my husband to come along and be our designated driver. My intentions were pure: drink, sing, be merry! Only, it didn’t quite work out that way. Tom had come down with a cold or something and showed up unable to sing. Plus he had to get up fairly early and couldn’t stay. I think we each sang a song for him (he chose Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep” for me) and he seemed to enjoy the evening’s company at any rate. But then he had to go and he said goodbye to each of us and gave us hugs and lots of love and suddenly the air went out of me. I’m not very good at showing my emotions sometimes, so I may not have seemed so terribly sad, but I felt a great loss. What can I say? Tom was the guy no one knew, yet we did know him on some level and each in our own ways.

Okay, I know it’s not like he’s dying, but it fucking feels like it! Yet another close friend is leaving for cheaper living in the hopes of an actual future. We’re all sick and tired of struggling, no one knows this more than me. I get it! I do! But it also fucking hurts each time I have to say goodbye to someone I love. I feel like a three year old, “It’s not fair!!!”We always say we’ll keep in touch and visit and all of that, but it never happens. My dear sweet Freddy never even emails me…we used to text each other everyday! I just…Ugh! *Sobs*

It seems with the first day of Autumn there was a perceivable shift. The weather, the hopes for tomorrow, and now I feel as though there’s no longer a chance for dreams becoming realities. I know that’s bullshit, but for now it is what I am feeling. Many of my friends are going through the wringer right now and my heart goes out to them. We’re all so depressed we can’t even get angry anymore. You know it’s bad when I can’t get angry about something. But I just don’t have it in me today. Saturday night may have truly been the most fun I’d had in ages, and now I can’t believe it’s all over and gone.

How much longer can we believe that things will get better? This economy has taken almost everything from me. While I have new friends and am enjoying getting to know them and pushing myself to be more social, it takes a lot out of me. And I have moments when I wonder what it’s all for and consider hiding under the covers forever. It’s like everything has come to a head and I feel like I will be left behind if I don’t find the strength to kick that fucker down! I dunno…what am I even saying? I’m just tired of losing. I was almost at a point this weekend when I thought that everything will in fact be okay and very soon. That things were already picking up and getting better. Maybe that is true, but I can’t see it today.

I just wish there was a way I could improve things for those I love. Right now that’s a lot of people, but I have a lot of love, yo! Yet I can’t even improve things for myself. Shit! I can’t even get to a damned copy place and mail my stupid state tax bullshit for my cafe! For all of my supposed bravery, I feel like a damned coward right now. I don’t know why, but I almost feel like I could have done something to prevent Tom from having to leave us, but what? It’s pretty vain to even think that. I don’t feel like I was a very good friend to him either. Yet here I am crying to stupid face off. Ha-ha!

I seriously thought a bowl of soup and some sitcoms would do the trick. I think it may have made it all so much worse. And this pity party has to walk the dog in a minute. Sorry to bum y’all out, I’ll be fine, always am. Just need to swim in some sorrow today I think. I hope that everything is good with you and yours. If it’s not, you have my love and hugs! We can get through this! We have to! <3

This picture was from several years ago. This is my chosen family. These are the people who mean the world to me. That’s Tom standing on the right, my husband in the booth with his Mama, Jery The Actorvist on the left, “Q” and P to the left just above him…it was my birthday. This is one of my favorite pictures ever. I have it up in my apartment, too. Look how awesome and happy we were? And now I feel like we’re all being pulled in different directions. Oh well. Here’s to fond memories and hopefully happier reunions. <3

When will it stop hurting?

I’m doing the work, taking fatty back, owning the name and feeling confident in my body, in the space I take up, my largess, my rippling waves of undulating life… owning that, flaunting it, embracing the power that emanates.  So in these empowered spaces I read a book, watch a TV show, open a magazine and sometimes fat hatred comes out of nowhere,  a violence dealt with a careless blow and it leaves you with a chestful of air that won’t expel… If I have some inkling of what it’s going to be, or said or done my defense system is moderating on all channels and purging the malcontented viruses as they appear in my midst. But sometimes that system is shut down for repairs, or for regeneration, sometimes I am my naked face and its then that the insidious fat hate, the hatred of all that I am can come in again and leave me so breathless with eyes prickling, shoulders hunching and once again I can be that girl on the field, in class, on the bus, who was that object of ridicule.

The other day I was watching the new premiere of “How I Met Your Mother”,  I am not a big fan, in fact I don’t even have cable, it’s just something on and sometimes it’s funny. This happened to be the premiere and within the space of 5 minutes “Barney” laid the track down for not one but two fat bombs. The first one was, “ What if this tie gets fat and old and I don’t want this tie anymore?” meaning the woman he was about to marry.  Then within a few minutes he loudly proclaims in the bar, “except for fatties!”… The first joke I was just shocked but snorted like whatever , the second time I it was just like someone dumped water on me. Overwhelmed with new feelings of sadness, shame and  shame for all the FAT girls sitting in their own living rooms hearing these fucking stupid jokes, while their thin families, friends, boyfriends, wives, all roar in the standard appreciative laughter…” ha ha ha ha… yeah Barney, you tell EM! NO FATTIES!!” The shame of that; of having to laugh along with your company to the jokes that demean who you are, that makes you the last stop, the utter desperate resort… beyond redemption, humanity or hope. Then you might feel more shame about feeling shame at all, like it’s just a joke, right? What’s the big deal? But you and I know a little more of your beautiful darling glistening soul shrunk more into her conch shell, fell back deeper into the coral, being told that you. Are. Not. Worthy of love.  And if you are thin you better not fuck up and get fat because if you do that will be your husbands’ worst nightmare and he will leave you. The message? Fat people are not worthy of love. How could this possibly be just a harmless little joke?!?!?!

Maybe I am putting too much leverage on a stupid comedy sitcom, I mean I invited it into my house, but that’s a microcosm of the whole thing. We, as fatties try to surround ourselves with messages that are not the dominant paradigm (if we have survived enough to get to the point where we find them…. So many others are still stuck in the old culture, killing themselves on an impossible dream), we surround ourselves with blogs and friends and websites which tell us a very different story. But sometimes, one sneaks in like this show for a shitty uppercut.  When will I no longer be affected by things like this? It’s like having a glass jaw, a constant inherent weakness in the OK of me… but then again, if it got to the point where I no longer cared… is that really the goal? To be totally inured to the taunts and jingles of others? Shouldn’t I be doing something more? To stay fragile and awake and alive and to fight the very things that are inherent prejudice in our world?

So I guess I am working on that, to remain effective but without the anxiety. To be clear without the internalization and to stand up when we see these things and consistently denounce them.