A few weeks ago when my college roommates all came to visit the lovely Berkshires, we went to this fantastical place known as The DreamAway Lodge. It has a rich history and visitors such as Bob Dylan and Allen Ginsberg back in the 70s, so it’s a perfect place for me and my ilk. I drank Hilltown Hookers throughout the night, listened to fabulous music, and spent time with some of my favorite people in this large world. We decided it was going to be exclusively black and white picture night, but alas, could not figure out how to do it without using document mode on my camera. So, we used document mode. Here’s my night:Read More
No, really, it is.
So, here’s the deal.
I got my bike this week, that lovely blue creature who my friends have proclaimed a she. She is as of yet, unnamed. And I began riding her. Up and down my street mostly, because I am a big fat scaredy cat. I also rocked some hot fatshion - cargo pocket leggings with a Lane Bryant tunic that has zipper flowers on the shoulder. I mean, I can’t look unfatshionable while riding my blue beast.
I digress. Well butt became sore from riding my bike. No surprise – I’m fat, and I am working out, muscles get sore, and I was putting my big ass on a bike seat for the first time in AGES. But it wasn’t exactly muscles…so I woke up yesterday with an incredibly sore butt. But it was more my tailbone, right between my but cheeks.
Needless to say, I was beginning to get concerned about the state of my buttocks.
That’s when I realized there was a giant golf-ball sized lump. That hurt. A LOT. My first thought was, “OMG TUMOR! I HAVE A TUMOR ON MY BUTT! I HAVE BUTT CANCER!”
But once that initial panic subsided, I started googling. Awkwardly so, but googling nonetheless. I tried the following phrases:
– lump between butt cheeks
– sore spot above butt crack
And came to find this lovely article: Pilonidal Cyst
And I was momentarily relieved, until I started seeing words like “lancing,” “drainage,” and “surgery.” I already had a doctor’s appointment on Friday, so I figured, I’d just wait it out. Soaked in a hot bath, found some epsom salts, was feeling pretty competent about my cyster. She and I could hang out – we could co-exist for a few days.
Until today, when my cyster decided she wanted to break free from my body and take me over. Or at least that’s how it felt. I couldn’t sit. I couldn’t stand. I could only lay on my stomach and read tweets on my iPhone and be in excruciating pain anytime I attempted movement. And I knew something had to be done…
I took my butt to the ER.
Luckily, there was no wait, but I did have to mumble at least FOUR DIFFERENT TIMES,
Which, you know, is AWKWARD. And embarassing. So of course I wore a nice dress to make myself feel good (despite my throbbing butt). The doctor came in and said,
So, I hear you have a cyst on your butt?
Which made me laugh and simultaneously LOVE HER. She said they are INCREDIBLY common, and that tons of people come to the ER for them because their doctor’s typically send them, and that mine was not very bad. So she sent me home with the largest antibiotic pills I’ve ever seen, some pain killers, and a little sheet explaining all about pilonidal cysts. Lucky me!
Luckily, my friend Danielle brought me to the ER and she thought it would be a good idea to stop at the crazy pharmacy that sells everything from self-inflating seat cushions to wheelchairs, and I found this magical creature:
What is it, you ask? It’s a coccyx cushion, which is PERFECT from taking the pressure off of your tailbone and therefore allowing me to SIT COMFORTABLY! I was overjoyed. I grabbed it, as it was the only one, hugged it to my chest, and went to fill my prescriptions. After we wandered around looking at the other various types of contraptions at the pharmacy, such as bright pink walking canes, a lice comb that came with a mini magnifying glass, and of course, a hernia cup.
So, here I sit. On my delightful cushion, having taken my darvoset and anti-biotic. And I pine for my bike. And for normal sitting. And general normal life, but alas, my life is indeed, a pain in the butt.Read More
One of my sponsors, the lovely Sizes to Fit, is having a gift with purchase promotion right now! If you spend $25 or more, you get a free lip gloss – and who doesn’t like free stuff? Also, if you review your purchase after you receive it, you’ll get a coupon for 10% your next purchase!
The reason I like Sizes to Fit so much is that it has fashionable clothing that is REALLY affordable. So, if you want to experiment with a dress you wouldn’t normally wear, or try a romper, it’s not going to cost you hundreds of dollars. And the clothing I have received has been GOOD quality and fits well. Sizes to Fit is also versatile – it has clothing for everyone, depending on your style. There are some adventurous pieces and more subdued pieces and EVERYTHING is for the plus-size woman. Here are some of my current favs – check them out:
So, I used to have a love/hate thing with magazines. I loved to read them – look at make-up, read dramatic stories about women ala Oprah style, look at the clothes, etc. But I hated them because there were never any clothes that were in my size nor any pictures of women even CLOSE to my size. Eventually I just stopped buying them altogether because they just didn’t appeal to me – what did they have to offer me, a plus-size 20-something? They always breakdown what you should wear by your “problem areas” you know: hourglass shape, tummy, big hips, large bust. And I would look at those and think,
Geez, I have ALL of those so-called “problem” areas, so what the heck do I wear?
So, I do subscribe to one magazine: Real Simple. It’s basically a magazine about organizing, simplifying, etc. Not that I do ANY of those things, but it has great tips (that I never use) and makes me FEEL like maybe one day I will do those things. And sometimes it touches on fashion. This month’s certainly did. With a sheath dress feature about how to buy one to “flatter you figure,” depending on the aforementioned problem areas/shapes. And then the feature that just made me laugh out loud:
What were the risks? The following items:
– Wearing skinny jeans
– Wearing a sequined skirt
– Wearing a jersey dress
– Wearing men’s oxford shoes
These are RISKS? Who HASN’T worn skinny jeans or a jersey dress? And a sequined skirt? Big deal – I own tons of stuff with sequins. I don’t have any oxford shoes, but really, that’s nothing new. And I just started smiling as I flipped the pages. I am a fashion risk taker. ALL of us are. And now instead of looking at these magazines and feeling left out or pining over clothing that would never fit unless I sewed an extra two feet of fabric between the seams, I giggle at them.
Magazines are absolutely ridiculous. I don’t care what some editor thinks I should wear or what is “risky.” I’m proud to wear what I want without feeling that “pressure” to be “in” or on top of the newest trends anymore. I wear what I like – which a lot of the times is crazy and ugly. But at least it’s mine – MY style, not some magazine’s style. Or even some designer’s style.
So, goodbye magazine influence. Goodbye, media influence. I’m going keep beating to my own drum.Read More
I’ve been getting my social life back together recently, and I have to say, I’ve missed it. I think I was so miserable with my job and life in general this year that I’d become quite a hermit, which in turn just left me more depressed. It’s funny how things turn into a cycle. I think I forgot for a while that I am actually good at being social and ENJOY being social, so I just stayed home and avoided most things. Too tired, didn’t feel like it – the usual excuses.
But after my friends visiting, the long weekend with Huff and family, and then this past week of making plans and going out with people, I feel refreshed. Reinvigorated. It’s fun to laugh with people and drink wine on a porch, and just TALK. It feels good to be around people that want to be around me. I don’t know why it has been so hard for me to remember that, especially since actually being motivated and DOING things has brought me out of my funk and disillusionment with daily life.
You know, I almost stopped writing this post because I thought,
“Who cares what I am thinking right now? I should just post another outfit.”
But you know what? That doesn’t matter. Even if no one cares. I am more than just an outfit post. Or a shopping post. Or even my blog. And sometimes I want to write about my life and what’s going on with me outside of everything else. I’m tired of all the criticism, and I don’t want to have to make rules for myself or my blog. So what if I write about my dogs? Or if I write about fat acceptance a lot? Who cares if my pictures aren’t perfect? Yes, I want people to read my blog, who doesn’t? But I also want reflect me. But why do I have to compromise myself in the process – ignore that I am actually a person that sits behind this laptop and writes these posts.