Last stop, this town

I am most definitely in a state of transit.

Since I no longer have a stylist, I've taken my hair care into my own hands.  He always said I wouldn't look good with blunt, thick bangs, especially if they extend past the corner of my eye.  Guess what I have now?  I cut 'em myself a few days ago.  They're definitely...challenging when they get unruly, but I love them.

He also told me that he hated the way my hair looks when I dye it blue, so I did that today.  Krystal took some pictures for me on our way to go run errands this afternoon.

So yeah.  New hair.  Major love.

So, since I started rockin' and posting pictures of my fatkini, I've had many people ask questions about the source of my confidence, so I decided randomly to start The Fatkini Mafia on facebook , then got sparky and started Fatkini Riot..  I'm not sure if it's activism or sheer hubris, but both projects sound like tons of fun (hurr hurr) and I hope I can get some co-conspirators to submit photos, guest posts, and engage in discussion.  

If you're interested in the least, join the group, check out the blog, and hit me up and let me know what tickles your pickle.  And yes, I would be more than happy to do some Q&A/advice posts, so hit me up with questions, too.  Anon commenting is enabled, but at least give me a pseudonym and enough details to work with without revealing who you are if you'd rather keep your privacy.  Also, if you can think of questions you would have liked to have answered during your early days of Body Acceptance, I'll take a stab at those, too.  Where to shop, relationship advice, tarot readings--I'll hook it up as long as you're willing for it to go public without your name attached.  I've always had a secret daydream of being an advice columnist, so indulge me, k?

In other news, I about climbed through the drive-thru window at the CVS to choke a bitch.  Here's the story, if you care to read it.  It happened about a week ago, so I'm mostly over it, but damn, y'all, you are RUDE.

Also, I got a new fatkini.  But y'all know where to find that.

Through all the crazyness, the busyness, the pain, the loss, and the scary new symptoms, I'm still alive and kicking, shooting my mouth off, and blistering the eyeballs of fatophobes everywhere.  I'd say I'm doing pretty damn good, yes?

Love Letters: Surrogates.

I've lived my life with a long succession of surrogates.  My sister-in-law came into my life when I was three years old and has always been my surrogate sister and a damn fine friend.  I claimed an older couple at church as my "grandparents" since I grew up 500 miles away from my extended family.  I several brothers from other mothers and sisters from other misters. I even have a surrogate dog who comes to visit a couple times a week.

My desire for and inclusion of surrogates in my life probably stems from the aforementioned 500 miles separating me from grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, not to mention being the youngest of two by 13 years.  But never mind the reasons, I have a really awesome hand-picked family of some of the finest people I know.

Well, I have a new surrogate.  Steve's mom, Jeanette, and I have decided to be each others' surrogate mother-in-law/daughter-in-law.  Jeanette was best friends with Sue, my mother-in-law.  The fatal wreck that took Sue happened while she and Jeanette were out farting around one afternoon.  I'd met Jeanette before that day, but keeping in touch with her seemed like the thing to do at the time.  She was dealing with survivor's guilt plus injuries from the accident.  I guess I just wanted her to know that B and I did not hold her responsible (the other driver took responsibility at the scene) or hold any resentment towards her.  She's been sort of...on the periphery of my life ever since. 

Back in October, her father, who was in his 80's, passed away.  She and Steve don't have any family in town, so from the moment Grandpa's health took a turn for the worse, I glued myself to Steve's side, like it or not.  When he passed, I told Steve to get in the car and take me to their house so we could get it ready to receive guests.  We cleaned and cleaned all day.  Steve's best mentally when he's busy.  By the time his folks came home with a bucket of KFC, we had that place fully in order and ready to deal with whatever the next few days threw at them.  And I stuck by Steve's side every day, right up through the funeral, until the pictures, flowers, and mementos were taken from the church and unloaded into the house.  Jeanette thanked me for taking care of Steve and keeping him level and mellow, and for all the help.  Without even thinking, I said "That's what family does."

In the days following the funeral, Jeanette asked Steve if she could trade in her current daughter in law (her other son's now-ex wife) for me.  That I was the kind of woman she wants as a daughter-in-law.  Steve told me about this, and it really made me think.

Here I am, 30 years old, with all my older-wiser female figures hours away.  And I miss my mother-in-law like mad.  We acted more like friends than in-laws.  We had cross words exactly once in the three years B and I were together before she passed away.  She was my homegirl, my co-conspirator, a culinary inspiration, and a Jill-of-all-trades with an amazing wealth of life experience.  There hasn't been a day to go by that I haven't thought about her or wished I could call and ask her advice on so many things.

And here's a woman who I love and respect who has many of the same things to offer who wants someone to have that kind of relationship with.  And me?  Well...I really wanted that, too.  So, the other night, I told her (very awkwardly, of course) via text message that I was adopting her as my mother-in-law.  She was delighted.

Since then, we've chatted via text nearly every day.  We've formed a tradition of a weekly lunch and stitch-n-bitch.  She taught my how to knit (and I'm doing it very, very badly, I'll have you know), and I'm teaching her the basics of crochet this week.  I really enjoy our time together.  She has so many stories and a wicked sense of humor.  I feel like something has really fallen into place for me.

Nobody can or will ever replace the one and only Sue, but I think Sue would be really pleased to see that her daughter-in-law and her best friend have found such an awesome friendship with each other.

The Rise and Fall of One Magnificent Weekend

Now that I've become conscious of what's going on with my body, I'm learning pretty quickly that there's two sides to this coin of feeling better.  I decided to have my birthday party a week early this year.  My dear friend TJ came to town this week, and since I'm going to be out of town on my actual birthday, why not rally the troops to hang with TJ and to celebrate me getting hella old?

So, me and 12 of my nearest and dearest got together Saturday night.  Since I can't drink due to my meds and I'm slightly bitter about that, the party was BYOB.  Thankfully, if I take all my meds together, it's like taking a trip without leaving the farm, so I was a good little patient.  My husband grilled hot dogs (and veggie dogs) and Kristin brought potato salad and her AMAZING olive dip--seriously, the stuff is THE BEST EVER and if you eat enough, you smell like a salami the next day the first time you sweat.  God, I love garlic.  Pretty simple spread that required very few spoons to get together.  I even bought my cake, which would have been unheard of previously.  So glad I did though--Publix Bakery makes a damn fine Caramel Pecan Crunch cake.  Leftovers?  There are none. 

I'd had some fancy-pants party outfit planned, but I wound up staying in my t-shirt and cut-off shorts.  I dunno, I guess my priorities are slowly but surely rearranging themselves.  I wanted to be comfortable and have fun with my friends and not have to act ladylike in the least. 

And the guest list--oh good god, some of the finest human beings I know.  Brandell and myself, OF COURSE, and TJ, who lives in Denver and we get to see him maybe once or twice a year, Jenny and Jeff, who brought Rock Band and always make for a lively gathering, Eric, the fantastically hilarious artist who I hadn't seen since training class at the failed experiment which was my employment at Convergys, MY GREGGIE PIE, who's been my BFF since age 12, drove up from Jacksonville.  I spent a good portion of my night attached at the hip to Greggie, including making Two-Headed Snuggie Monster while watching Gorillaz: Demon Days Live at the end of the night.  And of course, Jared and Steve and Scott and Samantha and Kristin and all those fantastic people who make my world go 'round.  Try to show me a finer group of human beings and I'll call you a goddamn liar.  I'm so grateful to have all of these people in my life, and to have them all show up to celebrate with the old gimp who's politicking on the alcohol?  I feel loved.  <3

So, we stuffed our faces and played some Rock Band, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't indulge in a bit of herbal refreshment.  Hey, if this were California, I'd be prescribed it by my doctor to help mitigate my pain, so why the hell not, especially on a night when pain is the last thing I need.  And god, that was good times too.  There's something magical about the campfire circle, how it can take a group of people who don't know each other and turn them into friends by the time the joint's out.  Especially those moments when everyone is quiet and you look at the faces of those around you and think of how lucky you are to be surrounded by these people, folks who probably never would have come together were it not for that one common interest.

And since I wasn't drunk at the end of the night, Brandell and I got all the food put away and the house mostly restored to its pre-party state.  I crawled into the bed and was asleep by the time my head hit the pillow.

Yesterday morning, the other side of that coin came down HARD.  The grocery shopping trip/Kohl's run (because TJ needed a party outfit, ain't that sweet), what little party prep there was, plus being all over the place all night, sitting in uncomfortable positions, and generally acting the fool took its toll on me.  My back was screaming.  Muscle cramps and spasms that reached into my lower abdomen and hips.  I spent most of the day trying to find a comfy place to sit.  Couches?  Fail.  Comfy computer chair that ALWAYS helps my back?  Well, I found the exception to that rule.  I think the most comfortable place I wound up was sitting on the edge of my bed, a pillow behind me, leaned up against the wall.  Thus, I spent a good chunk of yesterday after Greggie left in my room crocheting.  Not a bad deal, if you ask me.  Still, the pain was nearly unbearable, even with all of my meds.  And...I just had to deal.  I distracted myself as best I could.  More importantly, I accepted that after a big, busy, active day, this will likely be the fallout. 

So, lesson learned.  Go on, have fun with your friends.  Do the things that you want to do.  But don't overestimate your spoon count.  Schedule relaxation time, and if you can't schedule it, take it anyway.  People will understand or they won't.  It's that simple.  I feel incredibly lucky that I do have so many understanding, supportive people in my life.  Anything that enhances my gratitude for what I do have and the things that are going right can't be entirely bad, now can it?