On Charlotesville

It has been several days, and as such, I am behind the outpouring of words that customarily follow such an event. Words of sadness, confusion, love, help, good intent… mostly words of good intent, but also words of anger, hate, vitriol, and even people who deny that this was what even the perpetrators of the incident say it was. In this case, an act of white supremacists, making sure the rest of us know that they are still very much alive, and willing to fight for what they think they deserve.

“Jews will not replace us”

Jewish people have neither the intention, nor desire to replace anyone. There is no “gay agenda”, African Americans are not trying to undermine white people in any way. They are simply standing here saying “Please, can you make some room for us, too?” And when you stand, and shout back at them that you want them to die, or that you won’t let them “replace you” or “win”, maybe you are the problem here.

“Blood and soil

Using an old Nazi chant drives in only one point. That the people shouting it are Nazis. Unless, of course, they happen to be shouting it on soil that they stole from people, while covering it with the blood of those native peoples. Then, a second point is made. The people shouting are either extraordinarily forgetful, or just really stupid. This soil does not belong to us. If it belongs to anyone, it is the Native Americans who were cheated out of their land, pushed into corners and largely forgotten about… and then… replaced. In fact, throughout history, it is the white man who has done most of the replacing.

White people will never be replaced, and they know that. Everyone with any semblance of a brain knows that. That isn’t really what they fear. These people fear having to share, and being made to share equally. They fear having to treat everyone as though they are equal. Being forced to acknowledge that they are superior to nobody.

The fact is, if Charlottesville had been Native Americans or African Americans protesting, even if it were a peaceful protest, they would not have made it out safely. They would have been arrested. Bombarded with teargas and rubber bullets. America is not, and will not be free and equal until this is no longer the case. Until white protesters are given the same treatment as protesters of any other color, creed, religion, etc, we have no equality.

Until we have someone in the White House who can see why Charlottesville was, indeed, an incitement of terror from white supremacists, and not simply “bad on both sides”, we can not come together, and if Pence wants to stand with Trump on his statements on the issue, then let him fall with Trump as well.

We, as a country, need to move forward. We need to move into equality for all. Nothing less can be acceptable.

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Sometimes

Sometimes you make me want to laugh

And sometimes, you make me want to cry

And sometimes, you make me happy I’m alive

But sometimes, I just want to die

Because I can’t have you

No I can’t have you

And you’re all I want

And sometimes, I wonder if there’s a chance

That someday, perhaps you’ll change your mind

And somehow, you’ll find yourself wanting me

But would you even tell me

If you wanted me?

 

 

Dear Clothing Companies

Most of the time, if I am shopping for clothes, it is for my daughters. Arienette is the easiest, she is five. I go to the boys’ section if she needs sweat pants, because they are thicker than the ones the girls have, (yes, really) then, I just raid the girls’ section for whatever else she needs. She loves clothes, so, as long as it’s cute, she doesn’t care what I get her.

Krishna, at 16, is a little more picky. Luckily, we generally have the same taste in clothing,(though sometimes I still find myself thinking WTF??) so, anything I think is cute will generally make her happy, plus anything that has super heroes (or villains), or The Doctor on it will make her squeal with delight. Basically, at her age, as long as she is covered, I am happy.

The problem arises if ever I should deign to attempt to find clothing for myself. Regardless of what store I am shopping at, I walk in already knowing that I am unlikely to find anything I like that is also in my size, and, bu the time I walk out, 98% of the time, I have bought no clothing.

You see, I am a fat girl. (GASP!) For some reason, clothing companies see this, and assume that it means that I do not wish to be seen, so they throw shapeless tops in dark colors and floral patterns with barely any neckline and no flare or imagination at all at me thinking, somehow, that I will be thrilled at the options, when really, they are not giving me options.

This upsets me more than I can tell you. Follow me around the clothing section in any store, and you will invariably hear me muttering obscenities along with things like “do they think that they can just make fat girls disappear by hiding us under circus tents?”, or “Of course, I’m a fat girl, why on earth would I possibly want to look cute?” The thing is, I do want to look cute. I love the clothing I see in other sections. I really wish that someone would make those clothes in my size.

I prefer to wear form fitting clothing. It is more comfortable to me, and frankly, I may be a bigger girl, but I have some kick ass curves, and you can’t see them if I am swimming in one of the shapeless t shirt things that dominates my size range at any given store. I like my clothing to reflect my personality, to show off my goofy, nerdy side, or maybe that day I want to just look pretty. When my choices do not have personality, this is made even more difficult. I just don’t understand why manufacturers don’t see the market for cute, plus size clothing.

I went shopping the other day, and I bought four pieces of clothing. Four. Three tops and a skirt. One of the tops may get returned, because I am iffy about the pattern. I consider this to be a good shopping day. My best, actually, in over a year. I had to look through all of the clothes in the entire women’s’ section twice before I found anything. i had to dig through the racks to see if they had anything that would fit me that wasn’t boring or hideous. This should not be the case.

I am going to end this by saying one simple thing that I think everyone can understand: unless you want a bunch of fat girls running around naked, you need to clothe us. Most of us prefer to look cute. It makes us happier. You don’t want a bunch of pissed off, naked fat girls looking for you, do you? Or, maybe that’s your thing, I won’t judge.

Books and Their Covers.

When you tell me that the reason you don’t like me is my size, even when the way you say it, is sugar coated, and wrapped in gentleness, what I hear is “You could be absolutely perfect for me. You could be everything I am looking for in a woman… but I won’t consider you, because there is too much of you.”

I’m not going to lose weight for you. I am going to lose weight, but it will never be for you. If my weight is so important to someone that they will make it the deciding factor in whether or not I am ”good enough” for them, then they don’t deserve me.

I am an entire, complex person. I sing, I debate, (okay, sometimes, I revel in a downright argument) I paint, draw, color, I write, and I think I write well. I read so much sometimes that I burn myself out on it. I love research, if I don’t understand something I will look it up. I love words, colors, and shapes. (Not so much numbers. Anyone who knows me knows I can’t math.) I love being outside, walking on the beach or in the woods, swimming, playing in the rain. I love living and doing and being. I have been told my smile brightens a room, and that I am funny. My eyes get so many compliments, that sometimes it is actually a bit embarrassing. I am kind, smart, and beautiful inside and out. I am a complete package. A whole person lives inside this body.

The idea that someone can not appreciate me because of my body size is disgusting to me. I understand preference. Personally, I prefer a man who has an average build myself. However, preference does not mean that I would not consider someone because of their size. I have liked guys who were bigger, smaller, and everywhere in between. I have liked guys who were stereotypically attractive, and those who were not. Each of these men has captured my interest because of who they are, not what they look like. You could be the perfect Adonis, but be so insipid that I would be bored with them. What point would there be in that? Contrariwise, you could be the most interesting person on the planet, and look plain, and I would be head over heels, wanting your attention.
It saddens me that so many people value appearance over content.

If you can’t appreciate me when I am bigger, you don’t appreciate me.

Books and covers, everyone.

I Will Not be Silent

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. This post may not be well received by everyone, but that’s fine, because sometimes, it can actually be more destructive to sit and stay silent in the name of keeping the peace. I may lose friends over this, and for that eventuality, I am prepared. All I ask is that you please read to the end. Anyone who knows me should know that my intent here is good. My intent is love. As Always.


Donald Trump has made threats against every group of people except for white, rich, cisgendered, heterosexual men.

He has promised that a wall will be built to keep Mexicans out.
He and Pence have sworn to roll back the rights of the LGBTQIA community.
He has threatened the reproductive rights of women.
He has threatened to deport Muslims, and keep them out of America.
He and his people have threatened to cut aid for the disabled, veterans and the elderly.
And the list goes on.

In addition to the blatant threats, he has made insult after insult against everyone within earshot.

People, a LOT of people, are feeling threatened and at risk by this man and his people. A man who has chosen, as his second in command, someone who backs conversion therapy for LGBT youth, that includes electroshock treatment.

Schools are even offering support to students who feel threatened by Trump’s win This is not a typical election cycle.

I have heard people say “When Obama won, we felt the same way”, but no… Obama never threatened anyone’s rights. Nobody felt their life was at stake when Obama won. This is vastly different. You do not get to tell people how to feel.


To the people who voted for Trump who do not understand why your loved ones are hurt or angry:

When you voted for this man as president, it didn’t matter to the people you claim to love whether you believed he could fulfill any of these “promises”.

What mattered to them is that you were voting for someone who was making threats against their very existence.

They don’t care that your reason for voting for him is that “he is honest” (despite the fact that he flip flops faster than a fish on hot asphalt).

They care that he wants to take their rights away, and you don’t care about that.

They feel like you have turned your back on them, for this man who promises to strip them of their rights, their very person-hood. Your reason for voting for him doesn’t matter in the least, the fact is that you chose him over the people you say you love.

I’m not a Hillary fan. I love Bernie, I feel like Bernie was out best option, but we could not have him. A lot of Bernie supporters went over to Trump to Spite Hillary, but what they really did was shoot themselves, and America, in the foot. Bernie said Never Trump.

You don’t know what you have done… losing the trust of your loved ones may only be the beginning. I hope, for all our sakes, that I am wrong.

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

-MARTIN NIEMÖLLER

What’s Your Angle?

Sometimes I will get a message, whether on facebook, or someone will approach me in the real world, and I won’t be sure what exactly it is that they want from me.


Example:

Today, I drove up to the gas station, to run in and grab a few drinks for the girls and I. As I pull in, a guy I have never seen before yells something at me. When I step out of my car, he asks if I work at the local grocery store. I tell him no. He said he just started there, and he works with someone who looks just like me. I am in there a lot, and I have never seen anyone who looks remotely like me.

Dude then follows me into the store, talking about random nothing, while I grab my water. I pay, while trying to keep up polite conversation, as he is speaking so fast, it is almost as if he is repeatedly hitting me every time I try to stand up. I walk out of the store, and he tells me his name, and asks for my number.

I gave it to him without realizing what I was doing

Then, I sat in my car, and said “what just happened???”

He texts me, to ask if I am single, and tell me he has a buddy at work he thinks I would like. He said my aura is a nice orange, which is good because his friend has an orange one too. At this point, I’m laughing, but I just brush it off.

Next thing he does, is ask if I think he is attractive, and says to me that he thinks we should “chill” sometime.

What the actual fuck, dude?? Make up my damn mind!

It’s like he literally can’t figure out what he wants from me.

The only thing I want is to stay FAR away from him.


If you are going to approach someone, cool. Do you, booboo. I just ask that, when you approach me, do it honestly. I am not a fan of games. Say hi, talk to me, that’s all well and good, but remember; I need to know. What is it that you want from me? If I am approaching someone, I want something. Friendship, romance, information… whatever it is, you don’t approach someone without a reason.

So tell me.

What’s your angle?

New Blog!!

My cousin Stephanie and I were talking, and laughing about how ridiculous our lives are, and we decided we ought to share them with you guys. Some of the stories will be funny, others might be less funny, but they will all serve to represent how our lives are a sitcom. If you enjoy my posts over here, please make sure to check out our blog over at It Gets Weirder to see what we have for you there.

Please note that it is currently a work in progress, i only just put it together this morning… but, the wheels are rolling, and we should have more content out for you soon 🙂