Sunday night I was fortunate enough to attend Queer. Fat. Political.: “a flabulous star-studded, politically inspired evening of fierce fattitude and performance sponsored by the GLBT Historical Society’s Womyn’s Committee.  Commemorating the life and work of fat activist Judy Freespirit (who has an archive at the Historical Society) and will feature performance from the legendary FAT LIP Readers’ Theater, Jezebel Delilah X and others! Performances will be followed by a discussion/Q&A and is meant to create dialogue between generations of fat queer activists.”

It was one of the most powerful evenings of my life! It is right up there with the flesh mob I participated in for International No Diet Day. THAT GOOD! I was asked by Virgie Tovar to video tape the evening’s performances and little did I know that this would have such an impact on me. Did I already say “Wow!?” Because WOW!!! We’re talking about a room of radical feminists of varying ages, fat liberation activists from the 70’s, 80’s and now! But I don’t want to get into the who’s who and all of that…

I felt a great responsibility standing in the back of the room. A responsibility to do more, to be more out there and active and public and political. To keep fighting the good fat fight! The feminist fight! To liberate us all and create equality in a nation built upon the opposite. Heavy task, certainly, but I now feel more compelled than ever to organize and do more! These women created these huge radical, very public and very political actions! But I feel that this is something left behind and that pisses me off, for myself and for them. There is no second wave of fat liberation activism because nothing has changed! We’re still dealing with the same shit they did back when.

I love attending fat events. I LOVE IT! I look forward to them and after I am high on fat positivity! But then I go home, I work, I blog, I live. Nothing truly happened, ya know? But when I participated in the flesh mob for INDD? I changed! We made an impact on actual people!  I do feel that these more social events (performances, swaps, etc) are great for the uninitiated or for those who are intimidated or would like to reengage in fat liberation/fat acceptance. They recharge my batteries for sure. But what else? You eat cupcakes, maybe get some cool clothes, but no awareness was created, no waves made. We stick to online activism because it’s accessible, easy, fits into our collective schedules…and there is nothing wrong with that. I just want to do more!

The fire has been reignited and baby? I’m ready to start cookin’! Talking to Virgie and some other local fats all over the bay area, we all want to do more! It’s a fabulous feeling! So now we’re going to start researching and seeing what venues we can find and what things we can put together to keep people engaged, to become more accessible and to stay more political! I just couldn’t walk out of that building without having some sort of mission. I have big ideas, y’all! But I want some of yours, too!

What would you like to get involved in for fat liberation? Do you have a skill or talent or ability that may be useful or helpful for an organized fat action? Artists? Writers? Dancers? You name it! I wanna hear from everyone! What do you want to see happen to create more awareness? Do you think it’s all in vain? Do you think it’s bullshit? I wann hear it all! No judgment here! You know how I roll, honesty, baby, yeah! Ha-ha!

Fattiboombalatti here:

Okay so I admit that I have been under a rock for the past year. Working full time and finishing up my masters degree full time kind of does this to a person.  So I was hanging out with some g-friends o’ mine at a karaoke bar and one of them picked a song that I knew subconsciously, Adele. Her music video came on and I would like, double take… WHAT? A chubby chick with a banging voice actually got a music video?!?!  Can it be that the world is thawing in its hatred of fatties? Is it possible that a luscious fatty that I am instantly in love with can actually be known for her music without adhering to the narrow definitions of “beauty” being currently promulgated by our culture?

So I ran into this article about Adele:

http://zeldalily.com/index.php/2011/04/this-just-in-adele-isn%E2%80%99t-thin/

This last piece particularly reminds me of something that happened to me when I was in college. I was a rad fatty then and I had rad fatty friends but ended up spending a year in China. During that year I lost a lot of weight, not that I noticed because in China I was considered Sasquatch like in proportions and I was miserable there so when I came back to be enveloped in the soft loving arms of my friends I was kept at a distance. At lunch with them I made a fat joke and was promptly told by them that they were uncomfortable with my joke because clearly I wasn’t like them anymore. Oy Vey!  I was hurt by that because even when I have passed for thin, inside I am and will always be a fat girl. The body that somehow meanders to normal still houses a fat soul.

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that we all, all of us as a society, focus too damn much on looks, size, weight, blah blah blah. I don’t know about you, but I am kinda sick and tired of the obsession with the self and how the body is used as a social marker for where we “belong” and who we can be associated with. The whole thing is just one damn hot mess when really we as a society should be thinking about oh I don’t know how about being good and kind people? Helping others or working to resolve the environmental damage we are wrecking as a species?

But none of that can happen until we decide that no one body is inherently better, or more morally upright than any other. That our talents and skills and abilities should be judged by their own merit not as an accoutrement to our looks. Naïve? Yeah probably. But I honestly don’t see any other way around it.  The day that singers like Adele (who is clearly an inbetweenie at least it looks like it to me) can also burst on the scene as a deathfat and the only thing you hear is, “wow her voice is stunning!” is the day I can finally step down from this soap box with a feeling that my work is done.

This weeks Tank Top Tuesday submission comes from Jessica in Mastatal, Costa Rica hand grinding freshly roasted cacao beans.

My body is not an embarrassment that I need to cover up.  My physical comfort is more important than someone else’s discomfort about the size or shape of my body.  Don’t like what you see?  Then don’t look at me.  I don’t need permission to wear a tank top.  There are no restrictions or exclusive use rights provided to smaller people.  If it’s hot and humid, I have a right to bear arms!

As far as websites to plug:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/139268062780619?ap=1
www.naafa.org
http://www.sizediversityandhealth.org/

Awesome! Thanks Jessica! You look fantastic, but more importantly, happy! Woo Hoo!

I am taking submissions from anyone who wants to exercise their right to Bare Arms! Email your pics here: notblueatall@notblueatall.com, please include the name you’d like included in the post, a blog or etsy shop you wanna plug, your thoughts on bare arms or other fatty philosophies. It does not have to be in a tank top, so long as your arms are bare. Have fun with it!

🙂
Jess

Today’s Tank Top Tuesday pictures are from Nikki. Here is her fat philosophy:

“On a steaming hot day in July in 2000, I decided that I would not die of heat exhaustion because I’m fat.  I decided….TO GO SLEEVELESS!  It was sheer madness!  I went out and bought tank tops and spaghetti straps.  I even bough a halter top!  GASP! 

My family refers to my arms as “tharms” = thigh+arm.  Sometimes they call them turkey wings.  Yeah.  Nice people.  But ya know what, my wings are flapping in a cool breeze and I LOOK AWESOME! 

Yesterday I read a great line from “The Help” by Kathryn Stockett: “Ever morning, until you dead in the ground, you gone have to make this decision….You gone have to ask yourself, Am I gone believe what them fools say about me today?”

Today, and every day, I make a decision not to believe that my lovableness is determined by my size.  I decide not to believe that I am less than.  I decide not to hate myself.  I decide that I am beautiful. I decide that I am brilliant.  I decide that I am more than even I can recognize in this moment.  I decide to live into just how good I am.  I decide to act in my best interest, to move forward and not backwards, to embrace the fullness of my self – body, mind and spirit. 
That’s my fat philosophy.  It’s not easy to do everyday, but what is? 

I recently started a meetup group for fat folks and our friends.  It’s called “Philly Plus.” http://www.meetup.com/Philly-BBW/

 Thank you for the lovely submission, Nikki! You are fabulous!!!

I am taking submissions from anyone who wants to exercise their right to Bare Arms! Email your pics here: notblueatall@notblueatall.com, please include the name you’d like included in the post, a blog or etsy shop you wanna plug, your thoughts on bare arms or other fatty philosophies. It does not have to be in a tank top, so long as your arms are bare. Have fun with it!

Also, feel free to still treat comments as TMI topic/discussion area! Feel free to ask TMI questions or just vent/rant about your own stuff. I love it! We all do! =0)

The First and Second parts of this three part series.

I left off when I met my husband, B. We’ve been together for over thirteen years. Seven of those years we’ve been married. Yeah, we took our time. We moved in together after a year and a half of dating (though we never went on “dates”) and were happy with that for awhile. I think I started to talk marriage first, but left it as a no-pressure option. Then he proposed on our 3 year anniversary. And then I freaked out! So we waited another three years and got married on our 6 year anniversary. It was a small affair, twenty people total in attendance, including the wedding party itself. It was a mostly non-traditional wedding, too. I mean, I wore a white dress (my only regret was that damned dress, not the color so much, but that’s another story), had a flower girl and bridesmaids and all of that jazz, but my maid of honor also officiated the ceremony and since we’re not religious it was simply based on love and commitment.

I had just started a new job that soon became an actual career path and finally a career. I felt like a fish out of water at first, but soon found my niche in the mortgage industry (I was in the appraisal department, thank goodness). I focused on providing excellent service above all else and quickly got recognized for that (and even a few awards). When the corporate trainer for my position was getting ready to leave I voice my desire to take over for her. It was a huge risk and a leap, but I am so glad that I did it! My managers were so supportive and it seemed everyone loved me! I didn’t even have to try! So there I was, rapidly climbing the proverbial corporate ladder and finding my footing in this new environment. I struggled to put together an appropriate wardrobe and to fall in line with all of the acronyms, jargon and expectations my new position held.

And then something happened, I did things I never could have imagined doing. I pushed myself outside of my comfort zone…waaaay outside! And I got fucking brave. And then? It got easier! And people wanted me in their offices to teach them my mad service skills! It was like a high I’d never known before. To be in demand, to be the go-to gal for all things customer service and efficiency in this department, it was magical! I put so much of myself into everyday that first year and a half in my corporate training position. I worked my behind off! I loved every second. Until I got a new boss. The company was sold to another and things started to fall apart. I kept on, but the strain was there. The tension. The awkwardness of hating a boss that doesn’t even know what you do exactly and is such an ass-kissing jackass that you begin to wonder how in the fuck they even got their job. But I loved the people I worked with and had two fabulous people in my department to confide in and rant with and just be with. They were real friends at the time, too. Sadly, I’ve lost touch with both and only consider one a true friend now, but that’s another story.

When I completed this huge project that I personally created, put together and implemented with rave reviews and super success, I was suddenly being asked to travel the country (I’d only ever handled the west coast until this point) I thought, “This is it! This is the big time!” And a month later my department was eliminated, we were laid off along with a thousand other people in California that day. I felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me, again! (The first time being when I was laid off from the music store, forgot to write about that, my bad.) I had to figure out where I fit in the world again and it sucked.

I spent the next two years unemployed, but going on enough job interviews that that felt like my full time job. I then got three of the worst jobs I’d ever had (and I hated working for the Gap but even that was better than these) and the absolute worst managers/supervisors I’d ever encountered (though only one tops the jackass from my old career)! I quit two of those jobs willingly (one rapidly as I couldn’t take the bullshit and crying on my lunches anymore) and the last one I was laid off. That was a bit of a shocker. I’d turned around a department that was failing. I hired people committed to the service we provided. I even hired my best friend because I knew that he would keep them all motivated, too. I was told the department was being eliminated (lie) and that everyone was being laid off (lie). I was so angry. I waited in my car for twenty minutes for my BFF, but he never came down. So I called Steph, as I usually do when I need emotional support (love ya, babe!) and she talked me down and scolded me for stress-smoking. I found out later that night that J got to keep his job and so did the other gal we worked with. So only a few from our department got let go. J ended up taking over my position on top of the one he already had. Poor fella. <3

After a couple of weeks of interviews, I applied to one I knew I could do with my eyes closed. The interview was x-mas eve at 9 am. I showed up on time, dressed to the 9’s, only to find an entire office of 18-30 year old men wearing jeans and t-shirts. When I walked into the manager’s office for the interview he gave me the up-down. He then explained that I wasn’t qualified for the job, but that he hadn’t actually seen my resume. The person I would have been taking over for loved my resume and told me he thought I was a great fit. This jerk-store then answered a personal phone call on his cell phone and spoke in another language for five minutes while I sat there like a turd. He could see that I was growing impatient and finally ended the call only to tell me that he’d filled the position thirty minutes before the interview. I had never been so angry in my life! I wanted to punch the bastard in his face! I couldn’t take it anymore! I stormed out and went home and screamed for awhile. I told my husband that I just couldn’t do it anymore. This bullshit emotional roller coaster that is being unemployed.

I had recently gotten back in touch with my old friend Marc from Jr. High/High School and he had told me about his dream of opening a drive-thru coffee place in Portland, Oregon. While his life took a very different path, a seed was planted. When I passed by an old abandoned Wolf Camera (with a  drive-thru window no less) I had an epiphany: Why don’t I open my own cafe?! I was too scared at first to tell anyone, but then began to slowly let slip the idea and was shocked at the support my friends (and B of course) gave me. Not that they were ever jerks, but I can be a bit obsessive and compulsive about big ideas I get only to drop them a week or a month or a year later. But I did a shit ton of research and mapped out my path. I went to coffee school (yes, there is such a thing and I chose the best one in the nation in my opinion) and felt I was doing everything the right way. I knew I didn’t want to go into debt and instead cashed out what was left of my 401K (about $9k after the market crash) and some of our savings and just did it. It was so exciting and terrifying and fun all at once. It took so much work and no one seemed to have answers for me, ever. So I DIY’d my way to my own business (opened in Sept. ’09) and while it gave me so much purpose and meaning for awhile? I am pretty much done with her.

If you read this blog you know that B & I have been having some problems lately, but I think for the most part we’ve got a handle on it and things are improving. I know now that I wouldn’t die if we broke up, but I am comforted by the fact that I know this won’t happen anytime soon. We do enjoy each others’ company and are finding ways to compromise when that isn’t the case. He goes fishing, I do fatty things, it works for now. We are communicating a bit more and I think he is starting to realize just how much we’ve both changed in the last two years. We have sacrificed so much for each other (his massage school tuition and my cafe) and still find a way to get by, even if it is a struggle. Yes, we are one tiny disaster away from being on the street, but I don’t worry about it too much these days. I have amazing friends that support me and always know what I need somehow. B, too, always seems to know what I need when I need it most. We may not always agree, but what fun would that be anyway? I’m still madly in love with that man. As much of an old grouch as he can be, he is still all I want. He is such a great pug-papa and tabby-daddy that I know if we do have a kid one day, we’ll be just fine.

Now, the next chapter in my life? That is a big mystery. What I do know is that I will continue to attend and support as many fat events and activist things as I can and write this blog-a-ma-thing until I have nothing left to write. I would love to write a book (and Steph keeps pushing me, thank you!) but am not sure what about or even how to do it. I would love more than anything to sell the cafe right now, it would solve all of my problems!!! If you pray or believe in putting your intentions and hopes out into the universe, if you could please give me a little thought in this regard? I am focusing all of my hopes and wishes and thoughts on selling it right now. It would literally change my life. I’m selling it crazy-cheap (mostly just the cost of the equipment and improvements I’ve made), but don’t want to advertise so as not to lose customers. I rarely ask such things of people, but it would mean the world to me right now. So thank you if you do decide to help in this. I have another business idea that would be so much easier and cheaper and healthier for me to do (and it’s fat related), but until my commitment to the cafe is over, I can’t even think about that.

B wants us to buy a house in the mountains and I have agreed once I leave the cafe behind. This is huge as I had no intention of moving out of the south bay, but I feel I should at least give it a shot if it works out in this way. And then who knows? We may have a baby. I may find work helping abuse survivors. We may start new and totally different careers. I may be a rock star…the possibilities are endless. I don’t wanna think about what will happen if I can’t sell the cafe, but I keep pushing that out of my mind to prevent full-meltdown panic attacks. *breathe in…breathe out* I’m okay though. I’m healthy. I’m grateful. I’m happy for the most part. I am loved. And best of all I am still passionate as hell about the social injustices and inequality in the world today. So I will keep on fighting! No worries there.

Thank you for reading this blog and supporting me and my writing. Your comments always brighten my day! <3

If you ever would like me to write about something specific (or not) do let me know! A commenter had asked me to write about my separate lives and that is what inspired this series of posts. If you’d like to talk but don’t want the world to see, drop me a line: notblueatall@notblueatall.com