When I was a little younger and less, oh I don’t know, voracious, my friend Margs and I came up with a list of fat girl qualities. It went like, “You know you’re a fat girl when you…” and for some reason the only one that really stands out is “…pick a crumb off your shirt and eat it.” Margs came up with that one. We laughed about it for days. I think we were talking about it as we were eating M&M cookies from the Castro Safeway. We used to buy them and drive around Golden Gate Park at night looking for pervs. That sounds so sickening and creepy, but we pretended we were on stakeouts and it was kind of fun. We were bored, what can I say?? And we did spot a few.
So anyhow, today I came up with a new one. “You know you’re a fat girl when you are overwhelmed when the package you open from your boyfriend’s parents is a three pound slab of bacon!” I kid you not. It was freakin’ moving. I got wind this “present” was coming but I wasn’t prepared for feeling so overwhelmed. So I had to call them and say thanks and I felt like a total tard for going on about this bacon like I did. Mar’s mom told me it was my Christmas present and I thought that was sweet. It really is the simple things.
It’s nice when you find others who are as passionate about lovely food as you are. Today Romeo actually said, “I love lentil soup. I want to take it behind a middle school and get it pregnant.” Damn. He is so dead-on. I don’t even think I could top that if I tried. It happens a lot.
Today I got a call from my off-duty coworker. He told me his friend, this girl who frequently dresses up like a mermaid, completed her very epic vagina painting. He’d told me about it a while ago. I guess she took a photo of it and had been rendering it for some time. He emailed it to me but warned that it might be too large and could crash my computer. Jesus. So, I opened it at work anyway. It was large, I guess. There were stars and other galactic things shooting out of it. It was groovy. There were some Buddhist monks collaged in too. She called it her “Yoniverse.” My coworker told me that this painting is surely going to open doors for this girl. A Goddess friend of his is already lined up for her own Yoniverse painting. I think she means to customize each yoni to really reflect the person it belongs to.
I wonder if this is going to be lucrative. I told my mom about it and she wondered about the medium the girl was using. “Body paint?”, she asked. I had to explain that it was not a yoni print, but a yoni painting. I still don’t think she’s so clear on the concept.
My brother’s taking some lovely do-gooder conservation class at Cal which teaches all about the many wonders of the natural world and how we are destroying basically everything. He has to give group presentations in this class. This last group he got saddled with a blind girl. Before you call me a blind basher, just listen. I’m not like an acquaintance of mine who used to play chicken with blind people walking down the street just to make sure they weren’t lying. This girl in this group of my brother’s seems to be having a hard time with her disability. She has a helper…her mom. She’s also got a Napoleon Dynamite voice and she’ll say things like, “Mom, give me my walking stick–I don’t want to fall down–LIKE LAST TIME!” or “No mom, I don’t ‘see what you mean’–I’M BLIND!“
My brother thinks her mother does her classwork for her. They recently had to turn in a group paper and she had to write a couple pages about the conservation plan for a plant called Gooch’s Lousewort and another called Paul’s Pondweed. I wish I studied shit like this in college. She turned in 4 lines. Each line contained about 5 words. Words that didn’t make much sense. It went something like:
We must protect Gooch’s Lousewort and Paul’s Pondweed. They are endangered. Cows often graze on these plants. They eat them, too.
So, as you can see, this wasn’t very much help. It isn’t like I’m being an ass about her being blind. Point is, dammit, you’re in college. Pull some weight and maybe try a little? She has to give a speech and her mom is going to design some special bumpy cards she can use in case she loses her place. Ingenious.
I read a story in the paper today all about the Nutty Buddy–an athletic cup that comes in various sizes: the Hammer, the Boss, the Hog and for the extra-specially endowed, the Mongo. The Mongo sounds awesome. Here’s a link to some demo:
That Mark Littell is a real hick. He just had to ask that poor high school girl if those baseballs were hard. Yikes. And by the way, why is this news?
While we’re on the topic of crotches, Mario was walking down the street just the other day when two cougars passed by wearing short fur coats and fur-lined boots and mini skirts. Hotness.
Cougar A: Did I tell you I got some cashmere panties?? Cougar B: No. Cougar A: They’re really soft. Cougar B: Don’t they make your vagina sweat?
I love public conversations. It’s right up there with the time I heard a woman ask her elderly mom if she had to poop in the mall.
The other day my friend Kristen and I talked about her night in the Haight and how some dude tried to holler at her. This conversation literally took about an hour what with the research and all:
Kristen: “ooohhh gurl….you thick, you make the black girls jealous! You got a black girls ass! I wanted to tell him white girls aren’t so fond of being called “thick”
Katherine: HAHAHAHAHAHA. dude. come on. you are no way thick. you got a booty but you’re itty bitty
Kristen: I know! Booty yes, calling me thick! I just laughed though, and then I got a few feet farther, another OG…”girl you a superstar” . Few blocks farther a minivan pulled over asking if I had weed. it was quite an experience crossing through lower haight.
Katherine: damn. sounds freakin sweet
Kristen: did you know thick means curvy?
Kristen: thats what Wayne says
Katherine: ive always heard it mean well…thick and curvy. like thick is good. but thick doesn’t really describe you because you’re not chubby!!!!
Kristen: he’s telling me beyonce is thick.
Katherine: hmmmmm. i guess sometimes she is. i always just think thick means you’re solid and you got t&a. mucho t&a
Kristen: me too. I imagine like….hmm, J LO but maybe not even. Janet when she’s bigger I always thought thick meant meaty. Wayne is like you gotta have meat to have curves
Katherine: maybe we should start a website—am i thick or not?
Kristen: That would be fun. It would be interesting to get everyone’s take on what is thick
Katherine: i agree. im also going to have to blog about you getting called thick in the haight
Kristen: Go right ahead. ok, according to Urban dictionary thick is: 1. nice ass, nice legs, not skinny, with meat on your bones. thickness is the shit. 2. A woman with a perfect body, filled-in in places that are, by nature, designed to attract the opposite sex, such as the thighs, the hips, the breasts, and the most lovely part of all, the booty.
Katherine: damn. i think i want to be thick now
Kristen: ha and 3. in England this means a person is stupid.e.g ‘1+4 isn’t 6,don’t be so thick’ ‘are you thick! don’t put your finger there’. originally thick head,or fat head but thick sounds better. if your an american in england, calling a girl thick will not go down well.it will mean that you think she is a dumb arse. I like this definition: “A female or even a male who has a very nice curvy shape. Or a nice way of some mean person saying someone is fat without offending them. More than likely it is a girl who has nicely sized hips, thighs, legs, breasts, and booty. But what the misunderstanding is that they have all these things and a small waist… that’s not always the case. Someone can be a size 16 and be thick while another person can be that size and be fat. It mostly depends on a girl’s height. Get That Right, A’ight?!!”
Yes. People actually have conversations like that. And yes, we have these conversations on company time. We use the internet to research topics such as thickness, slab bacon, and the most effective way to skin a squirrel. This was the only crummy diagram I could find. I got too lazy:
I think in some survivalist guides you can find much more helpful diagrams. I know my US Army Survival Manual is extremely detailed. There are lists of ways to kill lots of different animals. For opossums it says: “Catch by tail; club when possible.” The worst I think might be the poor beaver: “Wait for the beaver to come on land, then club it, drop kick it, hit it with a rock, or catch it by the tail. It is a sturdy animal, so if you catch it by the tail, swing it in a pendulum motion until it begins to relax, then swing it against a tree or the ground or use a noose to kill it…” I swear that is what it says. Clearly this has been time-tested and studied for efficacy.
At one point I wanted to be able to survive in the wild. I don’t know that I’d have the heart to.