Showing posts with label over-shares. Show all posts
Showing posts with label over-shares. Show all posts

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Weighed Down



Before I get into my Marie Osmond-esque testimonial, let me say this: I know that it's common to gain a few lbs after you settle into a romantic relationship. Trading vodka-sodas for pad thai dinners, and no longer worried about whether you'll ever have sex again, one can get a little doughy. And when you eat to feel nothing, like I do, it's a recipe for a fat-saster.* I've had weight issues for as long as I can remember, and enrolling in an Upper East Side private school where your daily calorie intake shouldn't exceed the grade on your final exam didn't help matters.
Here are a few quick facts that'll make my relationship with food a bit clearer:

  • At the age of 9, while inhaling food at my grandmother's house and being told to slow down, my response was, "I'm a growing boy!" which was meant to be a joke--plus, I'd never heard "she's a growing girl" when a young female wanted seconds.
  • My first week of college I was terrified to have to eat meals with my hallmates because I hadn't eaten in front of boys in years.
  • My mother regularly went on 3- to 5-day crash diets and I would try to do them with her and could only last 5 minutes. I hated myself for my lack of willpower.

So, as you can imagine, when Jewboo admitted to noticing my recent weight gain, I went into a bit of a shame spiral. After all, the only thing that's made coitus acceptable is remembering that he thinks I'm thin. Now that neither of us are in a fantasy world, there's no going back!


I know this is kind of a random post. But what prompted it was this NY Times OpEd.**  That, and the fact that when I was in the D a couple weeks ago, my cousin and I reminisced about how, when I was 10, I would cry when they teased me for having "a white-girl booty" (you know, flat). I wanted curves in the right places, as the OpEd discusses. That was right before I started my new school and fell into a different cultural stereotyping.


Now I want the happy medium. You know, something like

Teehee--I can't help the puns!




But it's all looking up! I finally got one of them 'smart phones' the kids have been on about, and I'm trading in the fun apps (like fried ravioli) for some good-for-you apps, like "Noom," which helps you stop being a chubzo. Yay for taking positive actions!


How are you? What's the haps? Any tips on how to keep the weight in my boobs but make sure it leaves my thighs?


* (a fat disaster, obvs).
** I mean, other than the fact that the writer's "go-to meals" sound depressing, there's a lot there that I agree with.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

I Found More Than Just Containers....

I want to design my own t-shirt. I wouldn't sell it and no one besides myself would want it because it would say:

I just got back from 
and all I got was this AMAZING NEW BEST FRIEND. 


And underneath would be a picture of me and Ellen, the sales associate who made me feel like a better person.

This is what happens when I try to sneak out briefly during work to get a set of drawers.


Ever since the blog stopped being a safe space, I've been unable to tell my personal truths in the cathartic way that this blog once offered. I can, however, talk about how I'm feeling, since that doesn't sully anyone's good name and feelings aren't facts. 
In short: I'm having a hard time. 

See, I'm not very good at "organizing," "making efficient use of my time," or "being a functioning member of society." Whenever I manage to get anything together it's usually because I've been guilted or shamed into behaving in a socially acceptable manner.* Which, of course, means that I'm having trouble living in close quarters with a man and two cats—all of whom I love—that remind me every day that I'm just taking up too much space. 

know that I need to get rid of the half-full Ikea bags full of clothing that I've hidden in the closet—I mean, it's because of them that I've worn the same 6 outfits for the last 3 weeks! And I can't complain about Jewboo's unpacked boxes when I'm using a stack of three of them as a desk for my laptop. As RuPaul used to say: If you can't love [living with yourself], how in the hell are you gonna love [living with your Jewboo]??? 

She also said, "Don't fuck it up," which I should also take to heart.

With that in mind, I started looking through shelving options on the Container Store's website. I was immediately overwhelmed (do you know there are containers for holding your double-A batteries???) and finally decided to just walk the 50 feet from my office to the actual store. 
Actually, what I said to myself was "THIS. ENDS. NOW." before I grabbed my credit card and keys (they won't know I've really left if my purse stays!)

[Yes, I like to think of myself as Bruce Willis in everything ever.]

When I got there, it was all too much. For a store that was all about containing, I felt it was overflowing with stuff that was just out of control! I was about to walk out when I spotted a smiley sales associate with a hip haircut and very subtle blue-grey eyeshadow.
"I need help!" I said, much like a lost child at a county fair. (I've found this is the best way to get a stranger's attention and immediate sympathy.)
"What are you looking for?" Smiley Lady said, much like a kindergarten teacher addressing someone who she knows has just peed his pants. 
"I need shelving because I just moved in with my boyfriend and my shit's a hot mess and if I don't get it together we're over, and I was on the website and saw this shelving unit that I want and I was at my desk and decided, 'THIS ENDS TONIGHT' but I can't find it."

Her name was Ellen. She was very patient and had no problem with TMI, which means we're meant to be BFF. 
Elllen got married last year and she and her husband have been living in a studio apartment—and they're making their love work!!
"How, Ellen? HOW?" I asked as we stood by the mesh Elfa drawers sold exclusively at The Container Store.
Ellen explained that she's pretty chill and just says exactly what she's thinking.
"Yeah," I said. "I don't see you as one to fly off the handle." I just got her, you know?

 Unfortunately the item I saw online actually looked like it was based on the novel PUSH  by Sapphire, and I was back to square one, but Ellen helped me figure it out before I had a Mariah Meltdown.

As I left without a drawer unit for my clothes, but with a jazzy clothes hamper, I felt hopeful. I'm ordering some drawers to pick up in store, which is both high-tech and less stressful. I'm probably going to pick them up on Saturday, which is the next day that Ellen's working.

Yes, she told me of her own volition. We're going to start going on coffee dates at Bed Bath & Beyond's cafe and I'll probably get her to "Like" my Facebook fan page. #BFFnotonNBC



*We all know that if I had my way I'd be the star of next season's new show "Biggest Hoarders Loser Intervention," where obese men and women are made to lose weight by kicking their drug addiction and cleaning their health-code-violating compounds.




Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Overheard in Bank of America

"So then he left and was just like, 'I gotta go.' Then later I texted him, 'How's packing going?' He writes back, 'It sucks. I'm loading the car now.' Then I wrote, 'I had fun last night.' And he wrote, 'Yeah. Let's get together Friday night.' So, like, he wants to see me, you know? He wouldn't have said 'Let's get together, you know?'
Steve? You mean Steve my real estate agent? He wouldn't say anything.
No, he knows Glen. He knows the situation.
Steve said he texted him and he said it was 'hot, drunk sex,' so, he must have liked it, you know?
Ugh, this thing is not taking my card.
I don't know. What?
We didn't go to breakfast the next morning, but I was so dead asleep, he said he couldn't even wake me.
It's weird.
I don't know.
But, like, we've done this before, you know? He wouldn't keep coming home with me if he wasn't into it, you know?
I just--"

As much as I wanted to hear the end of this story, I had to get back to the plantation. But seriously, I was riveted. There was so much I needed to know, such as....
  • How can you be talking about your 'hot drunk sex' all up in the bank with your outside voice on a cell phone?
  • Your real estate agent is getting you dudes? Would that make him your pimp?
  • Why are you tripping over a dude named Glen?

Monday, May 17, 2010

OMG! I'm the Mayor of Swoon City!

(Note: This may be my most diary-like blog post yet)
Guys, today is a day of OMGs.
Well, just one really.

Friday, May 14, at 8:42pm, Jewboo said "I love you."
to me.
non-ironically.

OMG!

Clearly, I am questioning his judgment while also planning our wedding. This means we're getting married, right?

Guys, this is kind of a big deal. A man hasn’t said I love you to me since 2001.
(I don’t want to blame it all on 9/11, but we can’t really be sure.)

The way it happened was also so random. I’d go into details, but why don’t I just give you an excerpt from today’s gchat with JJSiii? (of course, I emailed 10 of my nearest and dearest/anyone who’s ever heard me cry about how I’ll die alone to let them know the good news)


JJSiii: OMG.
a la Usher
This is big news.
Dudes expressing feelings, it's not a common occurrence.
Me: I KNOW
JJSiii: PS: I love that you marked the exact time and date.
I want you to get married at 8:42PM on May 14th
Whatever year may be appropriate.
JJSiii: important question: did you say it back?
Me: YES
OF COURSE
JJSiii: well, obvs
Me: you know i've been biting my tongue for, like, three weeks
JJSiii: otherwise it'd be totally awkward
Me: totes
Let me give you a blow-by-blow
JJSiii: Please do!
Me: We got into a stupid fight Friday early evening—you know, cause I was being a crazy person.
We make up, and the plan is for him to come over.
So, he gets to my place.
he comes in
and barges into the kitchen, all angry and cute
takes off his coat
and puts down his bag
and he's standing there and takes a breath, and says, "look. i love you."
i feel kind of dizzy, like i'm in some surreal hyper-baric chamber and this is so insane
JJSiii: haha, you should rent out a giant billboard in times square
just you giving a thumbs up
Me: yep
JJSiii: with the caption "He said 'I Love You'"
ME: hahahah!
who's got two thumbs and a boyfriend that said "i love you"? THIS GIRL!
JJSiii: Yes. It'll be a video billboard
or just one of those scrolling ones
I can picture it in my head
Me: I can’t blog about it…can I?
JJSiii: FYI: There's totally a Degrassi episode about blogging and relationships colliding


Clearly, the conversation devolved into Degrassi-related madness, with a few links to wedding dresses.

Here’s hoping he doesn’t go reading the blog today, people!!!]

I know, I know, I'm such a tween--grown ass women do not act like this (right?). Where's my Justin Bieber poster?