The F Word

I’m going to say the F word now, and it’s going to appear a few times in this post. Brace yourself.

Fat.

There. I said it. That one word, those three letters, thrown around carelessly can have a serious impact on the person it’s directed at. I’m Indian and, as a few other brown bloggers have been commenting lately, Indian women (even strangers! Especially strangers!!) LOVE LOVE LOVE to go up to a girl and say “You’re fat.” Or “You’ve gained weight.” This is usually followed with “No man is going to marry you, you should lose weight.” Now, keep in mind these women are usually sporting a few extra pounds themselves and directing these nasty comments to girls anywhere from the age of 9-27. It’s heartbreaking. Picture a girl, dressed to the nines, who thought she looked cute when she left the house being told by someone she barely knows that she’s FAT. *insert eating disorder here*

It’s beyond ridiculous. A couple months ago a woman come up to me and said “You’ve gained a lot of weight since the last time I saw you, you’re not pretty anymore.” Note: the last time she saw me I was six years old so I think it’s safe to say that if I hadn’t gained weight in the last nineteen years it would have been highly problematic.

My mother has called me fat every single day of my life since I was about eleven years old. It makes me sad to think she and these other women are so bitter that they can find joy in putting others down. Personally, I don’t think I’m fat. I am not now, and will never be a size zero, but my body is strong, womanly and healthy. I don’t care if my thighs are bigger than the media calls ideal because with them I can run three miles everyday. I have hips that move to music and make people pause on a dance floor.

I can safely say I’ve never called anyone fat and I sincerely hope that I never ever do because it’s a hurtful word. If I ever greet someone with such a negative comment I will kick my own ass.

In grammar school I had a teacher who once told our class that you should compliment at least three people every single day in order to focus on the best in people. She had us do that everyday for a week. Try it and tell me how it goes.

Addicted

Hello, my name is Ruby and I am addicted to Facebook.

Even though it makes the world too small and there are about two degrees of separation between people instead of six. Even though people tag you in horrible pictures. Even though you get poked every five minutes. Even though you have no idea what poking is supposed to accomplish. Even though I realize how much time I waste on it every single day. Even though it has random and useless groups you keep joining. Even though it knows EVERYTHING every single person does…

How fun is it to come across a friend from middle school in a different country and find out she’s getting married, hear about it and see the pictures? And the TA you were madly in love with in uni who of course is even hotter now than when you were in his class? Oh and a high school acquaintance actually went to the same uni as you and neither of you knew it? And your cousin’s friend’s boyfriend’s second cousin twice removed knows that guy from your work?

Excuse me I have to go check my Facebook…somebody might have written on my wall or something.

Basketcase

Ever seen a five year old pout because someone doesn’t like them? And you know, you just know, they will grow out of it? Yeah. Well. Rationally, I know that I don’t have to like everyone I meet and everyone I meet doesn’t have to like me.

I’ve met lots of people and certainly disliked quite a few. Except…everyone has to like me goshdarnit! This leads to some ridiculous heartache on my part because I need everyone, and I do mean everyone, to like me. Clearly I am insane.

Even with guys I once dated/met/went out with/etc (desi, halal style and otherwise). Even if I only went out with him once I can’t have it end badly, it has to be civil and when I say “let’s be friends” I actually mean it. Every single damn time. Don’t believe me? Examples: LongTermDrama and I are still friends after almost four years of…sheer idiocy. We still talk, get together and are truly friends. The Irishman and I actually work together now and its fine, we’re cool. Carwash and I email on birthdays, etc. GymBoy and I chit chat at the gym and workout together now and then. Its all good.

Mr. ZsaZsaZsa though…his habit is to go cold turkey and cut the ex out of his life entirely once he’s not dating her anymore. I can’t emotionally handle that. I can’t handle that there’s someone on this planet who I care for somewhat who doesn’t want me in their life. I explained this to him last night and he told me that the reason he feels we can’t be friends is that he needs time to get over it (understandable) and he’s never been friends with an ex unless they were friends before they started dating so he’s not sure that we can be friends. He also said that he doesn’t dislike me at all (which was a huge relief because of course I’m crazy and everyone has to like me…) and thinks we were really good together but there wasn’t a spark (duh!!). If he’s never tried how would he know it wouldn’t work? So we’re going to compromise. We’ll email, talk and take it slow and see how it goes. Is it selfish of me to want civility or friendship after a relationship is over? Is it selfish of him to want to go cold turkey?

**Update** Part of my ridiculousness stems from that, even if he wronged me (which he did and I’m not going into details), I don’t want to leave him with negative thoughts of me.
I talked to him the night before I originally wrote this post and I think it was that I needed closure in this situation. So he doesn’t dislike me and he’s not sticking pins into a voodoo doll thankfully, but he just doesn’t do the “lets be friends” thing. Which is fine I suppose, I have enough friends and not everyone has to be my friend.**Finito**

genius much?

This is one of many reasons they wonder why they hired me:

Boss: So we’re going to get you on this project with so-and-so for Blah Company. You’re going be dealing with their CIO mostly but he’s in Virginia so it will be all teleconferencing and such. You’ll never see the man’s face.
Me: Oh like the Wizard of Oz. Ok.

*silence*

clothing fast

I began a clothing fast in December in which I swore off buying new clothes, in January I also swore off buying shoes, purses, jewelry and/or accessories. This is meant to last until at least March 1st.

That’s right, I am not shopping for another month. I will give you a minute to get over the shock.

So far its going well though I almost caved and bought dimante stilettos (they were on sale!! I would have worn them somewhere!! You know…when it warms up…) but T saved me from myself. This isn’t going to be easy apparently…

In three weeks I am going to a ski resort with a couple friends and for this I need a bathing suit. We have our own hot tub, I am not wearing it to ski. So, in three months of self imposed no shopping my only opportunity to add to my wardrobe will be the most hated shopping event in all womandom: the quest for a bathing suit. I wonder at myself…

not quite..

When you see an ex, especially for the first time after a break up, you’re supposed to:
-look drop dead gorgeous
-be wearing a cute new outfit with perfectly coordinated makeup, shoes and accessories
-having the time of your life
-have fantabulous things going on in your life worth celebrating
-have a man on your arm who is hotter, better dressed and more successful than the ex is

Instead, today I ran into Mr. ZsaZsaZsa while wearing a cute outfit with hot boots, windblown curls, no makeup, in a not fun situation and without arm candy. And a bright red left eye because I accidentally poked myself in the eye five minutes before. Damnit.

Oh what about him you ask? He was wearing Armani pants.

of all the gin joints in all the world…

I think alot of Saturday nights are going to find us back at that lounge. The band was awesome! And hot. Musicians are just hot. They had an awesome couple of sets with everything from Akon to reggaeton, Aerosmith, Pink and Shania. There is a reason they say white men can’t dance….that reason was “dancing” behind us last night. It was like a male Elaine and just as painful to see. It was also a little painful to look over and see one of the young managers from work there. Yikes. Can we say awkward?

The Saints WON! THEY WON! Geaux Saints!!! New Orleans has hosted like nine Super Bowls but this is the first time in the Saints history of 39 years that they’re in the playoffs! AND WINNING! woooo! I know sports often get blown out of proportion and these games don’t change the world…but in a city like New Orleans it gives people something to finally celebrate. The Saints franchise was almost lost to New Orleans which would have been heartbreaking considering the years the city has shown sheer adoration for a team that’s more often than not dissapointed. If there is any justice in the world they will win the whole damn thing!