houston, part 1
Sep. 2nd, 2002 02:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
crankylexI am fat.
Before any of my friends gets up in arms and says something obligated by the bonds of friendship like, "You're not fat, you're just big boned!", let me clarify.
I am not the kind of fat that stops people in the streets. You know, the pointing and staring kind of fat that people who are not that fat do to make themselves feel better about the kind of fat they are? That's not me. I'm the slightly more than average kind of fat, the nebulous size 14/16/18 fat. I have been this size since my mid-teens, and I doubt that it will change significantly any time soon.
I also doubt that anyone looks at me and says, "My GOD, look at how fat that woman is!" They probably say, "My GOD, look at that TATTOO! Has she no shame, to be flaunting that out in the open like that!"
Now you're asking yourself what this has to do with my trip to Houston.
I went to Houston with a friend, also a woman of Size, to assist in a move down there. Houston is a lovely city, but it is FUCKING HOT AS HELL there. I do not do well in extreme heat; I am a delicate flower that requires temperate weather at all times.
*hysterical laughter*
Okay, so I hate the heat. In order to attempt to stay as cool as possible, I wear as few clothes as possible, generally a tank top and a pair of pants. I rarely wear shorts because a) I think they look goofy on my pale as parchment legs and b) I don't as a habit shave my legs, and I don't need to start a riot over a fat dyke with leg hair.
N, my friend, who is extremely self-conscious of herself, said something to me that I found odd. She said, "I don't know how you can wear those tops in public."
My upper arms, while not quite of Oprah-esque proportion, are not willowy and slender either. But as I am not willowy or slender, I don't feel that they are offensive. So, of course, unable to let well enough alone, I said, "Why?"
"Your arms are heavy. People will see them."
People can see that I'm fat. It's not like those two strips of fabric fool them into thinking I'm thin. I don't turn from Cindy Crawford into Emme merely by removing my sleeves.
So, my first public service message from the trip is this: Be comfortable in extreme heat.
On second though, fuck that. Be comfortable all the time. Life is waaaay too short to delude yourself into wearing sleeves.
Before any of my friends gets up in arms and says something obligated by the bonds of friendship like, "You're not fat, you're just big boned!", let me clarify.
I am not the kind of fat that stops people in the streets. You know, the pointing and staring kind of fat that people who are not that fat do to make themselves feel better about the kind of fat they are? That's not me. I'm the slightly more than average kind of fat, the nebulous size 14/16/18 fat. I have been this size since my mid-teens, and I doubt that it will change significantly any time soon.
I also doubt that anyone looks at me and says, "My GOD, look at how fat that woman is!" They probably say, "My GOD, look at that TATTOO! Has she no shame, to be flaunting that out in the open like that!"
Now you're asking yourself what this has to do with my trip to Houston.
I went to Houston with a friend, also a woman of Size, to assist in a move down there. Houston is a lovely city, but it is FUCKING HOT AS HELL there. I do not do well in extreme heat; I am a delicate flower that requires temperate weather at all times.
*hysterical laughter*
Okay, so I hate the heat. In order to attempt to stay as cool as possible, I wear as few clothes as possible, generally a tank top and a pair of pants. I rarely wear shorts because a) I think they look goofy on my pale as parchment legs and b) I don't as a habit shave my legs, and I don't need to start a riot over a fat dyke with leg hair.
N, my friend, who is extremely self-conscious of herself, said something to me that I found odd. She said, "I don't know how you can wear those tops in public."
My upper arms, while not quite of Oprah-esque proportion, are not willowy and slender either. But as I am not willowy or slender, I don't feel that they are offensive. So, of course, unable to let well enough alone, I said, "Why?"
"Your arms are heavy. People will see them."
People can see that I'm fat. It's not like those two strips of fabric fool them into thinking I'm thin. I don't turn from Cindy Crawford into Emme merely by removing my sleeves.
So, my first public service message from the trip is this: Be comfortable in extreme heat.
On second though, fuck that. Be comfortable all the time. Life is waaaay too short to delude yourself into wearing sleeves.
