No really, that was the name of the show I attended last night! Okay well it was actually called: The Kentucky Fried Woman Show Unicorns & Rainbows: A Queer Cabaret Celebrating All Things Gay It was fabulous, if not too short in my opinion. I had never been to the venue before, but I liked it a lot. The decor was a bit posh for what I’m used to, but in general not too stuffy or stuck up or anything either. Nice! The show featured music, dance, burlesque and fun fun fun! To say I enjoyed myself would be an understatement. I had my two BFFs with me, many laughs were had.

Actually, the only bummer of the evening for us was after the show was over we were invited and promised that there would be a Dj for dancing. I don’t know who the Dj was, but at first he was playing some pretty cool 80’s songs and J & I had fun goofing around dancing to those, but suddenly it was slow or just strange songs in general. Before the show started they were playing The Gossip, Beth Ditto and even Lady Gaga over the sound system. We were all into it, so the after show music left us wanting. It really bummed us out. We were ready to dance the night away, especially since the show ended at 9ish. I don’t wanna pick on anyone and I don’t know the situation, but I’ve always felt that the role of a Dj is to read the room and enhance or lift the mood. Ya know? Am I off base here?

And so we left, with some hesitation, singing our way back to the car. As per my usual, I got us a bit lost before finally finding our way back onto the freeway. I don’t know what it is about Oakland, but this happens every single time! Ha-ha! J & I kept the dancing going most of the way home. But by the time we got to our apartment building I think we were all pretty tired. I was still very much awake, but physically tired since I’d been up since 6 am and already went fishing with my husband and went to an art & wine festival that day. All in all it was a fun and full day. It was lovely to see so many friends and new acquaintances.

How was your weekend? Tell me all about it!

Looking for more personal NotBlueAtAll stuff? Check out my Tumblr! Be sure to say hi or ask a question! Thanks.

I’ve seen a few people around the fat web lately asking for more single/dating voices out here in the blog-o-sphere. While I do not date, I am in fact married, I do so sympathize! You see, yesterday I had a strange thing happen. I popped online to check my email (on a Sunday even, Ack!) and someone wanted to chat on yahoo IM. I recognized this person as someone I follow on Tumblr. I’ll admit up front here that I used to have a tiny web crush on him. He’s sort of adorable. Only he totally fucking ruined that yesterday.

When I was dating, I had a terrible time meeting guys. At the time I didn’t think it was purely due to my size, but I had a lot going on after just coming out of that awful relationship. I met a lot of guys online, on AOL chat rooms to be specific, and went on way too many blind dates because of this. I remember one blind date, I went to the guy’s place (I know, so what not to do 101) and when he opened the door he said, “Well, you’re more “full figured” than I had though.” and I said, “Yeah, um, you’re much smaller than I thought.” Which I know sounds awful, but we ended up being fab friends until we both found permanent partners. Truth is we were swell on the phone. Yet in person there simply was no chemistry or physical attraction.

Yes, I described myself as “Full Figured” online back then because no one ever told me it was okay to be or call myself fat. Would have made things easier, no doubt. And it seemed the more dates I went on the more horror stories I gathered. Yeah, didn’t meet a single decent one…well, I did, but then my best friend TOTALLY stole him (glaring at you Steph! Ha-ha!). I see now that it wasn’t such a loss, but I was devastated! I even tried to hook up with his best friend just so we could have double date scenarios available. I went through this phase after that where I thought I wanted bear-types. Like, just big burly guys who would, I thought, protect me. I found out in fact that most needed more protection and emotional support from me. Go figure.

And being a fat girl in the dating world can lead to many assuming stereotypes are true. I had guys ask me if it’s true that fat girls are faster to sleep with someone or if redheads are truly demons in the sack (we are! he-he), all kinds of stupid-ass stuff. It wasn’t so much that I was looking for a good time or a quick lay (I really should have been), but I was still in love with the idea of love. I was so enamored with finding a perfect somebody that I forgot to find out who I was first. The moment I began to work on myself? I met my husband. We were friend first, which I’d never dated a friend before him, but it worked out nicely I think. Ha-ha!

So this guy yesterday? From tumblr? Yeah, he wanted to “chat” alright. He said he had a “fetish for chatting on web-cam” and could I go to his personal site (which was called something like sexy stranger cam or something equally horrific in my opinion) so no one would record or interrupt us. I was all like sorry dude, I don’t have a web cam that works at the moment (I bought one for $3 on amazon, but it’s a pain to use and is always leaning to one side). But he kept insisting and then said, “Lame! No wonder you’re single!” and I responded with, “I’m married.” and he then said, “Oh I don’t mind baby, let’s go over to my web cam site. I swear it’s safe. You just have to verify that you’re over 18.” To which I responded with *Barfs* which somehow didn’t give a clear enough signal to this douche. He kept at it, trying to get me to go to this site for another five minutes before I finally just closed the chat. He is no longer adorable.

If this is the shit you have to put up with in the online dating scene? Count me out forever! I meet way more people in real life that are truly into me then I have online. I mean, it is awesome that we can get to know people and begin to build relationships on the internet and all. But the two-faced pervo shit? Yeah, that needs to go! I demand respect when I meet people, no matter what type of relationship I’m looking for. Respect, honesty, intelligence and best of a decent conversation. Not too much to ask, right? Ha-ha! It seems that it is. This clown shoe didn’t have the decency to even ask my name. I know he has an actual girlfriend and had he wanted to just chat I would have  been fine with it. But his perv-cam-bullshit? No, thank you.

And so a tip of my hat to all of you single folks out there trying to get to know anyone in this crazy world right now. It’s bananas. I don’t know how you do it. And if you’re seeking advice on how to find love? Sounds cliche, but stop looking! Just do what feels good, you enjoy or makes you happy and there will inevitably be someone around doing those same things, too. I find that people are more genuine and put on less airs when they are just doing a hobby or pursuing an interest over the typical bar/nightclub thing. Although, that works and is totes fun sometimes, too!

I’d love your thoughts and input. Wanna vent about dating? Hit up my comments! Let us all share in this! Thanks! =0)

Can we all agree it’s just wrong to judge people?

I’m sure we’ve all at least heard of a certain big box store chain that people secretly take pictures of their patrons and post them on a certain web site (the people of…). I recently got a touch caught up in a thread on facebook about this specific site. A friend had posted about it saying something to the effect of it is just wrong wrong wrong to body shame and make judgments about people. Her friends didn’t agree. They felt that a post on that website was in fact deserved since the woman was wearing “two bandaids and a cork” (which sounds painful, where does the cork go?) and this woman should have more respect and should think of the children!!!

What in the hell and the how? I mean, really?! Look, I get that some people may have a preference for certain fashion norms. I understand that you may have been raised to dress a certain way in a given environment. But hey, not everyone buys into that or was raised that way. I don’t think it’s right to judge anyone, period. Not on how they dress or look or what have you. Our actions should speak for themselves. When you judge someone on their appearance you are making many assumptions about them. You wouldn’t want those assumptions made about you, I would think. They may dress a certain way and see nothing wrong with it. Who the hell thinks about children when getting dressed in the morning? F ’em all, I say!

I will wear what I want when I want to where I want. If you don’t want your children to see a giant fat lady? Keep ’em at home! I am sick of society protecting and always thinking of the children. Why can’t you as a parent just explain to your child that different people dress in different ways and have different body types and that is what makes the world go around? I would. I don’t believe I was ever protected from this shit as a kid anyway. Part of learning is seeing the world around you and deciding for yourself how you feel about it.

I’m not saying that I’ve never judged people, but I stopped judging others when I realized it only made me judge myself more harshly. But body policing? When is that okay? NEVER! But to say that someone has to dress a certain way? Not cool (and it gets me all riled up, frankly). It just goes back to all of those bullshit fashion rules we were taught growing up. Nor horizontal stripes if you’re a fatty fatterson? Bullshit! You should see what I’m wearing today (grey and black striped v-neck from Avenue, thank you). White shoes after labor day? Fuck that! Fuck all of these stupid goody-goody proper-bullshit rules. I’m so done with that.

The point of my friend’s post was simply about the site itself and how wrong it is for people to take people’s pictures in secret only to post and ridicule the person online. It’s wrong! It’s bullshit! It’s what is wrong with society today. We somehow think it’s okay to do this? Since when? Oh yeah, since the internet. Ha-ha! Not really, but I was raised to believe that we’re all equal, no one is better or worse. I still believe this. It keeps me grounded. It allows me to see people and the world on a somewhat more even playing field. I know stuff is shitty in the world, I’m not delusional. But shit y’all, you cut someone? They bleed! End of story!

That site is offensive. It should be offensive to anyone and everyone who views it. Yet somehow it is still up and still getting new posts. It perpetuates classism, ablism, sizism, sexism…every “ism” there is! It takes more than a simple dissenting voice to rid the world of this shit, but it can’t hurt, ya know? And what if it was your mom or brother or aunt or granny on the site? Would you still ridicule or play the blame and shame game? I don’t think you would, but I don’t know you, so I couldn’t possibly know what you would do. Funny that.

Your thoughts?

I spend a lot of time on my own without ever truly being alone. I mean, I’m at my cafe all day by myself, but there’s windows everywhere and customers coming and going and occasionally a friend or fab-regular will stop by and we’ll chat, but for the most part? It’s just moi. It can be trying and tiring and difficult. I spend a lot of time in my own head, ya know? This has helped me with a lot of self-work and processing events in my life, but it also makes me feel starved for attention. I hate that! Now that my husband has taken up fishing, I’m finding myself with more evenings alone than I know what to do with (sort of).

Some people are simply better adjusted or accustomed to being on their own for stretches of time. Some people actually prefer their own company to anyone else’s. While I respect that, I just can’t figure it out for me in my life. Sure, I have hobbies and interests and such, but when I’m home with the dog and cat and it’s only a few hours before my husband comes home from the ponds? I feel at a loss for what to do with myself. You can only masturbate so much (ha-ha! once is always enough for me)! But seriously? I lose track of normalcy and even what it is I want to do or need to even.

The truth is I’ve never fully been on my own. I’ve never lived alone. When I wasn’t living with an abusive boyfriend, I was living in a tiny apartment with four roommates. Before that I was living with my family. I remember times when I had roommates that I would come home from work and just fall into deep spells of crying. I was depressed, surely, but it never occurred to me to do anything else. Yes, I had a social life at the time, but sometimes I wouldn’t head straight out to Steph’s or parties or dates or whatever. Or there would be a lag in time before things got rolling. I guess, well, I never have been on my own long enough to get used to it.

When I was in that horrible abusive relationship for five years (ages 14-19), I had nothing to call my own. No possession or space or anything. I was the possession. The only refuge I had that had become my sanctuary, so to speak, was the bathroom. He would rarely bother me if I was in the bathroom, no matter how long. Weather it was in the morning for my daily ablutions or make-up applications or long luxurious baths with my boom box (Madonna’s “Erotica” album at the time) and about ten to fifteen candles. I would escape into my mind to escape the horrors of my reality if only for a few minutes to an hour.

I find that when I’m in a panic, I still run to the restroom! When I need to cry or just breathe for a few moments, I’ll pop into the bathroom for the serenity of what that space has been to me in the past. When my husband and I went to Maui, Hawaii, we spent more time in the bathroom than the room of our hotel itself. Ha-ha! It was glorious though! I didn’t even bother with the large oval luxury tub (but he did). When I talk about owning a home one day, the kitchen is the first thing I’ll go on and on about. But that’s because in my mind the bathroom re-do will be almost exactly like that one in Hana, Maui! Paradise! (No, nothing cheesy like floral prints or anything, it was quite understated, honestly.)

I wonder how one does adjust to being on their own. Is there a ritual or routine I could develop for myself to sooth or make it easier? What’s helped you? The most time I’ve spent on my own was probably on business trips or when I went to coffee school (yes, there is such a thing). Luckily for me most of this time and those trips were in Portland, Oregon. That is a fantastic city to be on your own in. I never felt uncomfortable. People would talk easily to/with me. I would go to music stores (physical store chi’ren, not like the iTunes store) and chat with people there. Or I’d eat at the bar at Gustav’s (OMZ! German food! *drools* and blackberry margaritas!) and the bartender would always be chill about it. Even in the evenings when I’d walk (ahem, or stumble) back to my hotel from Gustav’s I’d have a romantically lingering cigarette or two (I quit and now suddenly have cravings again after so many years) and gaze up at the stars and sort of daydream, but at night.

Up there though I actually loved to wander. Weather on foot or in my rental car (gotta love a good rental) and just try to get a tad lost. The last time I was up there my hotel was right on the water and there were all of these little shops and cafes along the shoreline. It was snowing, but I’d still walk along until I was too cold to keep going. Perhaps I was trying to avoid being alone in my room? Hmm. That could be true, actually. And of course all of this was before my fear of germs grew to what it is now which is: Hotels? Ack! Germs! No!

I imagine that with every passing year I should get more accustomed to time on my own. What if I suddenly didn’t have a husband? (For whatever reason, let’s not get morbid.) Or we needed to move out of town for some random reason? What the hell would I do? I get worse later at night. After 10 pm? Any sound at all is to me someone trying to break-in and rob/rape/kill me. Always! It’s irrational, I know. But it pops into my mind without my wanting it to. I should be more comforted by the fact that we live upstairs now, but I’m not. Seems easier in my mind to keep me from escaping with only one exit/stairwell. Or maybe I watch too many horror films. Ha-ha!

I know that none of this is fat related. I do think that it is more difficult to be on your own in public while fat. It’s probably why I rely heavily on my stink-eye look or fuck you glare when I truly don’t want to engage in conversation with anyone (or be seen as vulnerable). It’s why I absolutely hate walking the dog on my own at night (I pretty much won’t do it now, unless my husband is with me). I feel as though I’d be such an easy target for harassment or worse. This pisses me off to no end and that sucks because I should be able to enjoy such things. But we can’t always control our minds, let alone the environment around us. And so I seek refuge in restrooms because most people wouldn’t want to intrude upon whatever it is you/I might be doing in there.

So what can I do to work on this?
Thanks,
<3
S

You may not know it from just reading this blog o’ mine, but it seems that I have in fact been in hiding, y’all. I hadn’t actually realized it myself until Monday night at karaoke with my two BFFs. Jery bought the first round of drinks and as we were about to toast (Wyder’s pear cider, yo!) he leans over and says to me, “I’m so glad you finally decided to come out.” gobsmacked, I replied, “Have I been in hiding or something?” to which he said, “Well, yeah, it felt like it.”

Wow! Truer words have never been spoken. I do feel as though I’ve come out of some sort of hiding/cloistering period. I guess I just hadn’t thought of it that way. The thing is, I used to go out at least once a week. Usually to karaoke with the boys, but then it stopped being fun, I ran out of moolah and got super tired and depressed. It happens. I got so caught up in my own stress and anxieties that I’d forgotten to have fun. What a huge missing piece of my giant self-care puzzle, right?! Whew! So happy I’ve found it!

And it wasn’t actually that sudden of a thing, either. I think the fat clothing swap in San Francisco a couple of months ago (was it that long?) really kicked things off and reignited my fatty activist passion. Then of course meeting so many fabulous local fats helped and soon I found my social calendar filling up! Who knew? I do remember a point where I was scrambling to fulfill plans made and even canceling some for both personal (anxiety/panic) and logistic reasons.

The fat flesh mob with Marilyn Wann in S.F. for International No Diet Day was another big push in the right direction. It certainly reminded me in an indelible way just how important and needed the fat acceptance movement is and why I am committed to being a part of it and furthering its goals (equality, anyone?). The burlesque class* that made me realize that I could feel sexy again! And somehow it all culminated in this past weekend with the BBW dance night in Oakland and then karaoke on Monday? Well, what a wild ride and a blast! And I’m still standing! Fun didn’t kill me! Ha-ha!

I guess I do tend to cloister myself reflexively. I stay where I can control my environment and interactivity. I stick with what’s comfortable and easy and low maintenance and stress. It’s why sometimes I just can’t want to try a new restaurant while other times I’m jumping at the chance. My husband both help and hurts this type of self-preservation things depending on what end of the spectrum we each are on at that time. I used to think being a homebody was some terrible waste of time or whatever. Now I totally get it! I do!

I would like to thank my friends, new and old, for sticking by me and being so patient and kind to me. P&J for being my all-time cheerleaders and the tough love givers when they somehow know the time is right. Steph for making me feel like we were in high school talking on the phone about all things boys for hours! Virgie Tovar for being so fucking sweet and awesome and helping me feel sexy again! Carmen for accompanying me to the burlesque class and getting out of your comfort zone…you sexy bitch! Marilyn Wann for making me see you in a whole new light (human? Yep, totally!) and putting one of my dreams into reality (fatty flash mob!). Jeanette & Jessica for inviting me out, making me feel welcome and for making me feel like a girl, too! Twistie for always somehow knowing the right thing to say to me, keeping me sane. Psycho Sue and Rachel for being such amazing and supportive bad asses even though y’all live so very far away from me. WithoutScene for actually wanting to put up with my random-ass chat sessions (ha-ha!) and inspiring me and making me see my own potential. Amanda for making me so hopeful for the hardworking college folks out there! What you are doing is amazing, I don’t know why you don’t have a  fan club yet! Kath for inspiring me and being a super fatty blog mentor to me (without you realizing even). Of course, my husband, Bryan for being my rock and my best friend and putting up with my chaos (even though he’s never seen this blog–he’s aware of it). And my regular  here and my regular customers at the cafe for lifting my spirits by just saying hi! Thank you for that!

If you’ve never left a comment, please do. I forget anyone reads this sometimes and it really does help me keep going.  

Not sure how this ended up all sappy…meh, whatever. Go with it! Ha-ha! Thanks y’all! You rock my socks!
<3
S