Fat

I'm fat. I'm coming to terms with it slowly but surely. I'm not a writer, but have commited myself to no longer being confused for pregnant by small children and find that trying to be clever in print makes me feel better.

If you are white, you probably are confused by the title of this blog.


Let me es-plain. I used to substitute teach for the alternative school in my county. I loved working at this school for some reason. It was probably because I adore places with incredibly strict rules. Rules like kids having uniforms and being kicked out if they curse. Kicked out-- as opposed to coddled by admin... but I digress. At this school, the kids were all challenging ones who fall into typical categories. Sixteen year old girls in the 7th grade, who developed too early and decided that sex or drugs were far better options than school. Girls who have greasy blonde hair twisted into braids, but somehow have the sense to apply to a school to not fail. Boys who not only drool over said girls but threaten to kill others for them. Boys who really can't take a test in the same room as others, but if given the chance WILL succeed. Again--- I digress. So I'm there subbing for a math teacher who the kids kept calling "booty-do." Curious, I inquired, "What does that mean?" The answer I received has defined my body image in the years since. "Duh, Ms. B. Her stomach stick out furda dan her booty do." (Please read that with the proper ghetto slang accent to understand the principle of "booty-do").

I am booty-do.