“You tell a girl enough times that she’s fat, and that fat is repulsive,” I told Kristin, “and she will eventually believe you.”
“Actually you only have to tell her once or twice,” Kristin helpfully pointed out. “And after that, you can tell her she’s gorgeous a million times and she’ll never buy it.”
So I have basically spent 24 hours feeling really, really crappy about myself. And all because of one stupid photo, in which you can’t even really see me because I’m behind a table centerpiece. And (I am told) the photo isn’t even that bad, and maybe I can even be coerced into posting it here for you, I haven’t decided yet.
But it’s like, I saw the photo, and my brain seized on an idea, and dug in tight, like a tick. Even in the throes of it, on some level I knew I was being stupid, I knew it was a lie, but I couldn’t quite make myself believe it. It’s almost gone now, as I’m writing this, the fog is sort of clearing. I’m feeling a little better.
Also I really have a pretty magnificent boyfriend. That’s definitely a big help. :)
Yay BBQ! Ok, seriously though, I have gotten way off track lately. I’m not going to turn down a BBQ, or a chance to cook up some tasty goat ribs. And the Marianna in question just graduated from the French pastry school and made hamburger buns from SCRATCH. But now that it’s over, it’s time to get more greens back in the diet and stop eating for sport.
The burger was fantastic though. And my brother brewed a recipe based on Felinfoel Double Dragon ale, which was awesome.
There! Now we are all caught up, and you can stop messaging me about catching up. And by “you” I mean Kristin. :)
I’m almost caught up! :)
So maybe it was a bad sign that we were in a bar called the “Rueb-N-Stein” [sic] and that they had multiple “Ruebens” [sic] on the menu and even a “Rueben Burger” [SIC SIC SIC] and I know that I am being a little bit of an asshole here, but I just figure if that’s your theme, and even your business’s NAME, you should know how to spell it. End rant.
Anyway, I probably sounded like a horrible snobby big city chick, but I really am spoiled by all the wonderful food we have around us here. Even our little hole in the wall neighborhood bar has some of the best pulled pork. Except for a tasty gyro pizza (which I had when I was completely trashed, so I can’t really trust my judgment on that one) we didn’t really have much food worth writing home about.
Sorry for the suck on this comic, it was hard to get excited about drawing it. That’s why everything is varying shades of grey and beige. :)
It is a wonderful and dangerous thing to be a regular at a bar. :) To be fair, I was friends with the bartender in question before I became a regular at that bar.
And a girl can take a break every now and again, right? I’m trying to keep from saying that I “should” have had the salad or I “shouldn’t” have eaten the sweet potato fries, but the truth is I was very much in the mood for them and they were very good, and I don’t think I actually regret them. Which is kind of a huge step forward. :)
Also, last night Niles gave me carte blanche to completely humiliate him in any of my comics, as long as it was funny. He hasn’t done anything worth making fun of though, he’s just been awesome and fun and supportive and great. He did threaten to write a book last night, a sequel to the “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies” thing called “The Super Mario Brothers Karamazov.”
In other news, we’re going to a thing this weekend, so this might be your last update for a few days. I promise to have everything caught up by… Monday night, Tuesday at the latest. :)
Interesting fact: I have, in the past, and I did again tonight, use the word “ostentatious” to refer disparagingly to my boobs. I know, I know, I’m sure it is a problem that lots of ladies wouldn’t mind having. But I can’t jog. I can’t find a sports bra that can… contain them. I can’t wear strapless or spaghetti strap dresses because the only bras that fit me have wide “comfort straps”. I’ve always been self-conscious about them, and I’ve been wearing minimizers almost since puberty. My cousin – lots of the ladies in my family have this problem – got a reduction many years ago, and I’ve always been jealous of her for that.
And I know I should focus on the positives, but some days it’s just one more thing about me that’s BIG. I have got to figure out a way to make peace with the girls, am I right?
I’m still not wearing a dress that calls attention to them though. Especially not to this wedding.
Oh! so Niles immediately went to the internet and we spent some minutes looking at pictures of people with names like “Chesty Morgan” and “D D Reeves” (get it?) and “Busty Brown”. Did you know there is a “Big Breast Archive”? This internet thing has EVERYTHING. Well, everything boob-related anyway.
So, a quick caveat: we’ve been doing some design work for Atwood, so I’m not exactly impartial. But today was the first time I’d ever been down there, and it was an absolute treat. My office is in Rogers Park, and I live in Logan Square, so I rarely get downtown for anything, much less tasty meals. Much less mussels for a Monday work lunch. Mussel Monday!
Boy do I love eating little sea creatures, huh? You’d think someone who loved eating seafood so much would move, you know, closer to the sea. Sigh.
Once again I am left mulling over the fact that I love drawing food, that it feels almost as much of a treat as it does to eat it. That I draw food in careful, loving detail – much, much more detail than I use when I draw myself. That’s probably telling, huh?
Someone needs to keep the Pirate’s Booty away from me. “Oh I wouldn’t feel bad about eating a whole bag,” Niles said, “they’re mostly air.” Which, you know, that’s true. But a bag is 4 servings and I apparently had 5 servings that day, and I ate them without even thinking, like I was sleepwalking. That’s a habit I’d like to stop.
I threw together one hell of a tasty pizza last night, though. Thinly sliced lamb, marinated in garlic, roasted garlic cloves, spinach, goat cheese and mozzarella on a pizza. So tasty!! I wish I had had some red onions on hand to complete the gyro-ness of it all. But then I would have been tempted to replace the tomato sauce with tzaziki and that is probably going a bit far.
It’s amazing what a little time and distance can do. I was looking at Monday’s cartoon today thinking, who even wrote this? How could I think such horrible things about myself? How am I so much meaner to myself than I am to anyone, really ANYONE else?
I’ve really got to get back on track. The losing weight is nice and all, but I have got to stop focusing on it and get back to figuring out how to stop hating my body so much. Tonight in yoga I felt so strong, so solid, and then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror (I know, I wish there wasn’t a mirror at yoga, but it’s also a dance studio) and immediately got disheartened. But later I thought, why would that ruin things? I don’t do yoga to look pretty. I do yoga to feel strong, and I was feeling strong. Why did I even give a crap how I looked?
Seriously. I spent 20 minutes before class tonight trying to decide what pants to wear. Do you know how many students are in the class? ONE. It’s seriously just me. I am shaking my head at myself right now.