Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Fat Sex

FAT SEX. Two words which some people think should never be combined. But sometimes they are...birds do it, bees do it and even us fatties get down and dirty sometimes.

Ever since that eventful night years ago when I lost my virginity to the Rabbi's son (seriously), I've been a little bit obsessed with fat sex. He was fat, I was fat. Our bodies slapped together in the most horrifying fashion. After dishing the dirt to Lindsey about it we decided to do a little investigation on the topic of Fat Sex. We even found out about something called family assisted sex, for those who are very, morbidly, morbidly obese. Amazing. People actually have to have friends and family come over in order to hold rolls, legs, etc., away so that the man can penetrate the woman. I don't know what happens when a man gets too fat? How does one hold a man's pannus up so that he can be with his girl? But, I digress.

Sex was something that was difficult for me at first because of my body. I was in constant fear he would see my body and be completely grossed out. I would never get on top. I would take my clothes off under the covers. It took me a while to realize a very important thing about fat sex: If a guy is dating you, or has at least taken you out for dinner, he's expecting, well, at least wanting sex. No guy in the history of guys has ever told a woman to get off of him because her thighs are too big. He might not talk to her afterwards, but he is not going to pass up the opportunity for sex because of it.

I remember being so deathly afraid of being on top of a man because he would see my body or that I would crush him, that it took me a long time to muster up the courage to do so. Obviously, laying down makes your fat belly flatter, your tits stand at attention, etc. But, being on top sure makes the guy happier and your boobs actually look nice that way too.

The sounds that are made during sex are not one's that are the most...flattering. The slapping, bumping and groaning all sound sexy in the moment, except when you realize that it's your bellies making those noises...especially when you're starving afterwards and your stomach growls.

The last boyfriend I had lived with his brother. I'd usually go over to his house when my class got out and we would hang and then naturally, get busy. While we were going at it one night, his brother walked in on us and saw me in all my glory. Flab Galore. Body flapping in the wind. Normally, I would have died of embarrassment. It's one thing to let someone you want to see you naked see you, but when a person who you don't want to see you naked does...it's humiliating. But, for reason I didn't care. Maybe because it was at the end of the relationship? I don't know...but that poor boy must have gotten an eyeful...and a very important lesson on how if there is a foreign car in the driveway...KNOCK ON YOUR BROTHER'S DOOR BEFORE BARGING IN!

I think the greatest paradox in my life is how much confidence I have out of my clothes. I know that I do a good job (is that nasty to tell all of you?), and I think that since I know I'll be doing a good job, it doesn't matter what I look like naked. He may even think my rolls and bellies are attractive...but if he dare tries to touch my belly...he's in serious trouble...

Monday, September 25, 2006

Crimson and Clover Over and Over...

The most disturbing thing about having a blog (aside from having a blog...) is that there is documentation of things which are obviously reoccurring themes in my life. For instance this post which I wrote on January 30th is basically the same thing I almost wrote right now.

Pretty much word for word (substituting Yom Kippur for Valentines Day) I am in exactly the same boat now as I was in then.

I like a boy. We have been writing for almost two weeks (which is a long correspondence in the land of fake boyfriends). He wants to meet. I feel the need to "warn" him over and over again that I am fat.

What I really feel like saying to him is, "I'm fat. I may always be this fat. I may get smaller (or bigger). But I am really fucking cool so let's give this a go". But that sounds stupid.

I think what has me so worried is that while I have already told him I am fat, the image of a "fat woman" has so many different conceptions. For some people it means anything over 120 lbs. For others anything over 200 lbs is gigantic. And while I am of the opinion that most men have no idea what women actually weigh, I am universally fat.

And I am worried that he wont want a fat girlfriend. Or he wouldn't want to introduce a fat girlfriend to his friends. Or he would only use me for sex and leave out the relationship part.

And I guess if I get right down to it, I don't feel like I am ever going to find a loving normal relationship at this weight, so I sabotage myself. Past experience tells me I am correct to do so. But if I keep doing it, then nothing will ever change.

I just don't want to settle. I like certain traits in men, and in my mind the chance that one of those men would actually date a fat girl seems to be minuscule. I suppose I have only a few options:
1. Just meet him and hope for the best;
2. Tell him again that I am fat. Really fat and try to get a straight answer out of him about how he feels about that;
3. Stop attempting to date until I have some more confidence in myself.

I want to do option number 2 so badly but it seems insane. I will probably go with option number 1. And option number 3 just confuses me even more.

Am I missing any other options? Thoughts?

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Controversy and Pimping

As odd as it seems to us, our blog sometimes gets discussed and dissected in other forums. We love when that happens because we like watching the numbers on our site meter go up! But we do find it peculiar that our blog is sometimes referred to as controversial.

Since when does a blog about fatness have to be about either dieting or fat acceptance? We don't live our lives in either of those realms. Thus, our blog (which is not fake as has hysterically been suggested a number of times!) is about our honest feelings about being fat. What is so controversial about that?

We think most of our loyal readers understand what we write about, but it's sort of funny that new readers don't seem to know what to think!

And so, on a barely related topic...please tell any friends, co-workers, relatives, or sworn enemies to read Fatty McBlog if you think they might enjoy it!

Friday, September 22, 2006

Recent Growth

I hate writing this down because it's just so...FAT...but lately I have been feeling, well, fatter. There is no doubt about it, I have definitely gained some weight recently, though I am too scared to get on the scale to find out how much. I can tell not only from how my clothes are fitting, but because I can actually feel the fatness.

Like I can touch a place that wasn't there before. A new fold, a new stretchmark, a new curve. And I can't stand it. To me there are different levels of fat. I can't quantify these levels, but when I see other fat people, I know where they fall on my internal level of fatness scale. And I have recently gone up a level (or two). I used to be on the upper range of acceptably really fat, and now I am no longer anything that can be considered acceptable.

I sort of just want to hide from the world.

I don't want to go out with my friends tomorrow night. I don't want to fly home and see people I haven't seen in a really long time. I don't want to meet this cute boy who I have been talking to and who wants to take me on a date. I don't want to do anything.

But I think I may have to do something about it really soon. Because I hate the feeling of getting fatter.

Does anyone else relate to the feeling of moving up a level in the range of fatness?

Thursday, September 21, 2006

RIP Long and Lean Jeans 2005-2006

I'm a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl. Most everyone here knows that Gap Long and Leans (which have now been discontinued! See Epilogue), size 20, are a staple in my wardrobe. They fit every inch of my body and even cover my big belly. My only problem with the jeans are the button.

I want to explain this the best way I can: When I'm sitting down for long periods of time, like when I'm at work, my jeans tend to role inward causing the button to harm my abdomen and create a bruise. It hurts. A lot. But, it's not like I can just stop wearing jeans. And, for those of you who say to get a bigger size, yeah, I'm not going to do that. So, what did I do? I came up with my own solution: I've been going into the bathroom at work, unraveling some toilet paper, folding it and stuffing it between my stomach and the jeans. I know...I'm a freaking genius.

These are the only problems I've had or see in the future:
1. The toilet paper isn't made for withstanding long periods of rubbing up against jeans and bellies...so it sometimes balls up and I find pieces of it in my belly button (side note: is my belly button so deep because I am sooooo fat?)

2. What if someone sees it? I don't wear short shirts. Maybe a Top Ten problem I have with being fat is that they don't make shirts long enough and therefore, you see nothing but front butts everywhere. I've remedied this by going out of my way to find shirts long enough and buying them in bulk.

Anyway, that is my plight. Toilet paper stuffed into my jeans like I'm some sort of weird scared crow. Fatty Crow?

Epilogue: Since the idea of this post, my good ol' long and leans have died...gone to jean heaven. Cause of death: Thunder Thigh Rubbage. I've been mourning their death for quite some time. Remedy: I bought a new pair of jeans...but GAP doesn't have traditional long and leans anymore so I had to get these jeans called Curvy. I don't know. I'm skeptical...they messed with my jeans. They messed with my staple. They have something called Long and Lean FLARE...but, trust me when I say, those are not Long and Leans.

Good news is that I think the days of stuffing tissue down my pants are gone. Seems GAP got wise to this and made a thicker waist band. Again, I'm skeptical.

Viva la Tissue!

Sunday, September 17, 2006

I'd rather be handcuffed to Saddam Hussein

As a self proclaimed fat and paranoid person I think people are staring and judging me all the time. But I am soon to be in a situation where it is 100% guaranteed that I will be the least popular person in the vicinity...on an airplane.

I am taking a six hour plane ride across the country and I am having so much more anxiety then usual. As a preface, I am a terrible flier. I have been known to sob silently to myself and have actual panic attacks. I can recite the rational facts about air travel and try to calm myself down, but nothing will make me feel better until we are in descent. Because for some reason the most statistically dangerous parts of a plane ride, the takeoff and landing, don't scare me.

But on top of my usual psychosis about flying, I am also dealing with paranoia about being way fatter then the last time I flew. I know whoever sits next to me if going to curse the gods for making me the person next to them and when they get off the plane, they are going to tell whoever picks them up at the airport that they had to sit next to a fatty the whole time. And I can't exactly blame them. I wouldn't want to sit next to me. A hysterical fat girl is not exactly the most awesome person to sit next to for six hours...

As a fat girl, I know that I will be spending the trip trying to make myself seem as small as possible. Being careful not to let any part of my body touch the person next to me. My shoulders will be hunched into themselves. My thigh muscles will be working overtime keeping my legs together. If I don't die in flight I will exit the plane a complete mess with every muscle aching.

But I haven't even addressed my biggest fear - what if I am now too fat for a seat belt??? What if my giant belly is now in the way of buckling up? I have never had to use a seat belt extender before, and I am so scared that this time I may have to. How do you get one? What if everyone hears me? What if the flight attendant is a bitch? Does JetBlue even have them or do I need to bring my own? I know I will never have to see any of those people ever again but I am still totally mortified by the prospect of having to use one. I really hope I am just catastrophising and I don't really need one - but I might!

Have any of you ever used one? What was your experience? How did you ask for one? And doesn't it particularly suck to fly as a fat person and know that everyone on the entire plane is hoping that you don't sit next to them?!?!?

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

I'm Your Private Eater...

I like to eat in private. I'd rather eat by myself than with people and I prefer not to eat out at all. I know it's all psychological and I know that it's not healthy. But, I'm fat. And as a fat girl, I'm super uncomfortable eating in public. There are so many things you can't do with your food in public. You can't:

--Make a buffet of sauces for you to dip each bite into
--Wear a shirt you don't care about spilling on
--Get things on your face and not care
--Prepare your food the way you want to
--Watch TV

I'm the queen of take-out. I'll pick up food a couple times a week and bring it home. There, I usually lay a large towel on my bed, put on a crappy old tshirt, get out my "eating tray", prepare my sauces, make sure I have a cold drink, find my remote and get down to business.

Sometimes, I wish a therapist could observe this craziness, but then again, it defeats the purpose of loving to eat alone. And on those occasions when I do go out to eat, I'll usually pick at my food, eat about 1/4 of it and then bring the rest home and follow the ritual mentioned above.

I had been at my old job for such a long time that I really got into a comfortable place where I didn't care who saw me eating what. But, that's not the same with my new job, especially since I'm now in a cubicle next to a woman named Beverly.

I love, love, love Beverly. Once, when I was having a bad day I almost asked her for a hug. She's awesome and a motherly figure. And, she always asks me what I'm eating. She must have some sort of bionic ears/nose because she can hear/smell everything. And every time I'm enjoying my lunch, she says something.

"Whatcha eating?"
"That smells good"
"Let me come and see what you're eating"

It's almost too much to handle. And the thing is, I could go eat someplace more secluded, but if I did that would mean I'm taking traditional lunch hours and I would have to stay later at work. (my boss allows me to skip lunch, eat quickly and leave an hour early)

So, I'm going to have to work on this eating out stuff, because:

1. The food here is pretty good
2. It's only Beverly
3. I can't be this crazy anymore.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

The Fat Best Friend...And Buffy. Yep, the Vampire Slayer.

"The fat best friend" as a stereotype is alive and well in this country but not on our televisions.

As someone who has filled the role of fat best friend for her whole life, I can tell you from experience it is not just a stereotype, but a reality. When the FBF is best friends with another girl, she fills the role of someone who will always be there because she doesn't have a life of her own, someone to talk about boy problems with because she doesn't have a boyfriend of her own, someone to shop with even though she can't buy clothes from the same store you can, and someone who will always be there because where else is she going to be? When the FBF is best friends with a guy, she fills the role as a de-feminized girl, someone you can talk to like another guy but who somehow magically knows about women. Someone who will be a standby date if nothing else pans out. Someone who you never think about in "that way".

Yeah, I sound bitter. Because I am.

I talked to a friend from college yesterday who I have not spoken to in nearly three years. She had been trying to get ahold of me for months but I just never had the energy to engage her in a conversation. But yesterday I picked up when she called and she told me all about her boy problems and how she has gained so much weight and how all of her friends were either married or in couples and how she blamed her singleness on her recent weight gain. And she never once asked me if I was seeing someone. She just wanted me to commiserate with her weight gain and loneliness. Because that it how she will forever see me. Fat and alone.

I racked my brain trying to come up with examples of the fat best friend on television. I came up with Natalie on the Facts of Life and Carmen on Popular. I am guessing there must be more, but I can't think of any right now. (Maybe you guys can think of some). Because the American public doesn't want to see fat people on Television.

But everyone knows that. "TV fat" is when size 8's are made to seem obese next to the size 2 stars, and that is the representation of fat people we get as a reflection of ourselves on television. But I wouldn't have even bothered to write this post if I hadn't stumbled across a clip on youtube (shown below).

I am outing myself right now as a closeted fan of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. That's right. I'm a huge Buffy enthusiast. Pun intended. I enjoyed seven years worth of slaying, sarcasm, friendship, apocalypses, and hot vampire sex. But I never knew that Willow, Buffy's best friend was originally supposed to be a fat best friend. Sure, she was only TV fat, but she was fat none the less.

I am totally disappointed with Joss Whedon. I really think he could have kept Willow as a chubby girl and made her character even more complex and interesting. Sure, there was nothing great about the girl in the Pilot, but Joss could have stuck with the concept and shopped around for a different better chunky Willow. And to those of you who are huge Alyson Hannigan fans, I have nothing against her. I just like to watch fat people on TV and Alyson's Willow is as wispy as they come.

I know it's strange that I am simultaneously complaining about how much I hate what the role of fat best friend means while at the same time promoting the idea of having more FBF's on television, but I don't think it has to be a contradiction. Joss could have written chubby Willow to have her own storylines. Her own boyfriends and/or girlfriends. Chubby Willow could have been amazing. But she never had the chance.
Buffy Unaired Pilot Episode:Part 1

For those who care to watch, at the 3 minutes 25 seconds mark, chubby Willow makes her appearance. Poor chubby Willow Rosenberg never had a chance to be the Jewish fat best friend she was meant to be...

For those of you who have never seen any episodes of Buffy, don't be scared away by this. This is the unaired pilot. I suggest renting or buying the seasons on DVD, and getting to know the girl and her friends who saved the world. A lot.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Start a Revolution!

The Craigslist Ad:

Freelance Jeans Designer

Reply to: mp_wear@yahoo.com Date: 2006-09-06, 11:05AM PDT
Newly formed Mark Penn wear is looking for a fresh designer for a small line of mens/women jeans. Please email us for more details.

The Idea:

We think it would be sort of funny and possibly constructive if people who read this blog would email the people who posted the ad. Don't you wish you had a say in what type of fat girl jeans were sold? Now is your chance! Write them an email with what you wish fat girl jeans were like, and post your emails in the comment section for all to read!

Tell Us...

We know why we're fat, but, why are YOU fat?*

* If you're not fat, don't bother telling us.

Monday, September 04, 2006

Emily called me fat when I told her I wanted to write about this...

I have noticed a strange phenomenon. Whenever I see someone on TV or in a movie eating Chinese food it always looks amazing, and yet whenever I eat actual Chinese food I am always totally disgusted and end up throwing most of it out. Chinese food just never satisfies me like it should, and yet I allowed myself to be fooled by Chinese food on TV again and again.

There was one item on the Chinese repertoire that I finally found that never disappointed. It was from a particular restaurant in NYC's Chinatown, and their Bao was absolutely amazing. Bao are Chinese barbecue pork buns which are fluffy white buns filled with a savory mixture of minced Chinese barbecue pork, soy sauce, oyster sauce, scallions and sugar. When I lived in the neighborhood I would get two or three orders and nothing else and the waitress thought I was a crazy white girl (which I guess I am). But much to my great dismay, I recently found out that the restaurant closed! I have had Bao from other places, but I am convinced theirs was the best. So, I am now without Bao, and without any Chinese food options at all!

I am just shocked at how much TV can influence me to order something I know for a fact I don't like. I watched an episode of Nip/Tuck today and there was Chinese in one scene, and I almost ordered it for dinner even though I know full well that I would not actually want to eat it once I got it.

Damn, I really want a Bao right now!

Friday, September 01, 2006

Teeter, No Totter

The only thing worse than being a fat adult is being a fat kid. Especially if you were a fat kid like me and chose to only have ultra skinny friends. (What's with me that I did that? Masochist). Anyway, I was on the phone with Lindsey the other night and reminisced that once upon a time ago, when I was a wee little chubby child, I hopped on a teeter totter/seesaw while at summer camp with my best friend Katy. Katy was, of course, tiny. She was not only skinny but she was short. Needless to say, she was stuck up in the air a long time, with no totter to speak of. If I had gotten on the seesaw too fast, she would have catapulted over tall trees.

Obviously, playing with this contraption with me was not fun for Katy. The whole point of the thing is to go up and down and with my weight being much higher than hers, there was no even distribution of weight to make the seesaw, well, fun. She had a great idea...she invited another girl to sit on her side. Yes, because two skinny kids equaled one of me. (I wonder why I have self esteem issues now?).

While telling the story to Lindsey, I got totally embarrassed about around 11 years too late. I didn't even remember the story until I told Lindsey about it. Being a fat kid is hard.

I wonder how many other stories I have in my head that I have repressed. Does anyone else have any horrible, embarrassing fat kid stories?