Nature vs. Nurture

I know I shouldn't get into a blame game, but really-- why can two people eat and do the same things and look totally different?! It's really f-ing annoying. I don't eat that much. I mean, really. I blame poor genetics. Let's take my cats for example.

Sophie, Mitch, and Apollo are from the same litter. They were born on the same day, to the same mother. The have all lived in the same house get the same amount of food and theoretically the same amount of exercise. Yet... Sophie is tiny. Mitch is lean and muscular. Apollo is a rollie-pollie ball of fur.

So-- what I'm saying is that though I may be lazy, there are plenty of skinny people who are, too. They just have more forgiving genes.

Usta-Could

I used to do a great job of hiding the booty-do in pictures and up until the past year, I was always shocked when I saw my reflection in a mirror. I have never really seen myself as fat. As a kid, I was the sexy one. When my 2 bffs and I got the necklaces that said "crazy" "sexy" "cool", I got to be Left-Eye... the sexy one. (RIP TLC) I got hit on in groceries stores and at gas stations by older guys and was always the one who was a shamelss flirt. I developed insanely early and got lots of attention as a result. I developed a blown-up sense of ego and have almost never been single. Like I said, I've been good at hiding my ridiculous girth until the past year.


When I was a junior at JMU, --GO DUKES!-- I hit 2-bills (I'm 5'3"). I decided for the first time in my life to actually diet. What's funny is that I always complained about "being fat" before that, too. I did SouthBeach and it was fine because I was working for the best bagel deli ever and had a pretty unending supply of fresh food. I would get up and go to work at 5am, Dee would make me a great breakfast, I'd snack on cheese and veggies all day, have lunch, then go to class and pretty much not eat if I wasn't at work. This was due to poverty more than anything else. I'm sure if you know Harrisonburg, you know how cheap and delicious the mac-n-cheese from Sharp Shopper can be when you're broke. In any case, I went home for Robin's baby shower, had a small piece of cake... then I was of the wagon.



I'm a quitter when it comes to me. When it comes to getting shit done for other, people I'm all about it, but when it comes to me. I'm out.

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.