shelves are for books... not for butts

i'm having one of those yucky days where i don't quite feel like my clothes are fitting. i've been uncomfortably tugging and pulling and trying to cover myself up all day. i was 45 min late to work because i couldn't find a suitable outfit combination that felt good (even my weekly pre-determined options weren't working for me).

i waffled unnecessarily and extraordinarily long about whether or not i should get up and go to subway. my stomach got the better of me and when i finally got to the parking lot, i pulled into a spot, got a little overwhelmed and PULLED OUT TO LEAVE, then pulled back in again... i was so consumed with this idea that i looked SO bad today, that i nearly talked myself out of going into subway for five minutes to get lunch. cuckoo! fortunately, a shinning moment of crystal clear sanity broke through the dense fog of my poor self esteem. confidence! exude confidence and that's all they'll see! besides, seriously? unless you've sprouted a third arm, you look FINE.

after i got back to the office and finished lunch, my neurosis got worse. only now all of my attention was focused on my butt. there is a full length mirror in the ladies room and everytime i went in there, my eyes immediately dropped to the silhouette of my derriere. i carry most of my weight in my ass and stomach and depending on the clothes i'm wearing, sometimes it looks like i have a pseudo shelf-butt. from a side angle, it looks like theres a little pooch that sticks out past the round fullness of my hip/lower back/butt. i cannot stop thinking about my shelf butt. about who's gonna notice my shelf butt. about how all the kids are going to make fun of me and play pranks like set a vase or a gramaphone on my shelf butt when i'm not looking! behold the mysteries of the human body! behold the shelf butt! AHHH!!!

you know that film that my guy did the soundtrack for? it was accepted as part of this local film festival. tonite we are attending a viewing. i'm freaking out, people! FREAKING OUT! what if my shelf butt destroys the place? what if it doesn't fit into the seat? what if someone at the reception mistakes my shelf butt for a side table and tries to place their drink on it?? what if it tries to TAKE OVER THE WORLD??

breathing... breathing... serenity now.

for all my hysterics, i actually feel a lot better having written down all of these feelings... like i just vented all the 'insane' out the cargo doors, leaving the calm to reclaim me. i won't have much time to get ready when i get home, but i've got a plan... just a quick change of blouses, a jacket and some accessories and i'm sure i'll walk out the door feeling 100% better than i do right now...

perspective

i was tickled to be invited for a coworker's birthday lunch yesterday. i work with two of the three women in our little lunch party and was excited that they decided to include me, even though my interactions with them has been limited. we went to a nearby mexican restaurant and had a nice enough meal. i was feeling pretty good for making good food choices: i ordered a relatively healthy meal and was careful to eat only half of what i was served. then the bill came.

i am familiar with the birthday lunch etiquette at my place of business because shortly after i came on, i was treated to my own birthday lunch. a very sweet gesture which is bestowed upon everyone in our group throughout the year. but when the lunch bill came yesterday, the two non-birthday ladies immediately reached for the check and started divvying up the bill. when i noticed the birthday girl going for her wallet, i said, "absolutely not! no one pays for their own birthday lunch." when the other two gals handed the bill to me with their contribution, i was horrified to find that not only had they not chipped in ANYTHING to cover the birthday girl's meal, but they included nothing for the tax or tip. i ended up putting in $30 on a $50 lunch. i was pissed that i was invited out to someone's birthday lunch, someone i don't even know all that well, and was left to pay for her lunch. WTF?

so what's the big deal? i can afford it. hell, i spend $30 on stupid shit a few times a week! of course, i could have spoken up but that would have felt REALLY awkward. i mean, i'm still the newbie and according to my 'rules to keep the peace' it is not the newbie's role to pull a dick move and demand birthday lunch money from the rest of the stingy beeyotches at the table.

i was stewing about this injustice for the rest of the afternoon. when my guy got home, i was telling him about my day and how i felt completely slighted and shitty because i didn't speak up about it... my guy asked me who these gals were, what they did at the company, how i knew them. i gave him a brief bio on each of the ladies, then he said, "well, honey, you're right. that was pretty shitty of them to stick you with the bill, but you know... you were the senior employee in the group. they probably expected you to pay for the birthday girl."

i was stunned. of course! i was the 'ranking officer' of the group. when i thought back to the few other birthday lunches that i have attended in my short tenure at the company, i did recall the senior person paying for lunch, or for most of the group's lunch.

my guy gave me perspective that i was not able to see on my own. his insight allowed me to perceive the situation in a completely different light:

• i consistently devalue myself, do not take credit for my full worth - this is an age old theme for me. it didn't even occur to me that i outranked the other women i was lunching with. it was probably expected that i cover most of the bill, if not all of it.
  
• i am a 'pleaser'. growing up with a crazy, bulemic mommy did a number on my head. as a child, i adopted the role of 'pleaser' to ensure safety in my own home... this sick pattern is prevalent in my life today and is a role that i still struggle to break. the little girl in me is scared of anyone being mad at me. if i asked the other gals at lunch to throw in a few extra bucks, they might have been mad at me. and to my inner, scared little girl, this was a terrifying prospect.

so now i'm feeling kind of foolish. i feel silly that i worked myself up into a full blown tizzy over the course of the afternoon. i feel kind of lame that i didn't recognize the silent social rules and just offer to pay for the whole lunch. what's done is done.

what i can do is take away an important lesson from the experience: pull up! pulling my head out of my own ass will likely give me the perspective i need to see a situation from other angles... and even if i don't have the ability to find a different perspective in the moment, i don't really mind the taste of crow.

about last night...

to express her gratitude for helping her out while her car was recently in the shop, one of my co-workers (co-worker 1) invited me and my guy over for some wine and company. another co-worker (co-worker 2) who also played good samaritan would be joining usin the festivities, too. being the ever dutiful guy that he is, my guy reluctantly agreed to go and keep a good game face despite the fact that he feared we would be spending the evening mired in work talk. i've been at my current job for less than 4 months. new city. new job. no girlfriends. so it seemed like a fun thing to do to meet some gals from work for a few glasses of wine and some harmless office chatter. boy, was i wrong. upon our arrival, co-worker 1 greeted us innocently enough, poured us a glass of vino, and sat us down at a table full of hor d'oeuvres... then began talking... for 45 min straight... about her world. and this was just the beginning....

...over the course of the evening, co-worker 1 got drunk, and the drunker she got, the more hostile she got... especially towards me and my guy. it became increasingly clear that this gal's competitive nature runs deep and in a very dark, very sick way. my guy and i were basically fielding an attack of insults the entire time we were her 'guests'. let's see if i can tally up the body count:

• endured about 30 min (no joke) of one question: "how much do you make." (30 min because i refused to answer and she refused to quit asking)
• was called some variation of fat TO MY FACE one confirmed time and very possibly a second time
• was ridiculed for living in one of the premier areas of town
• was ridiculed for driving the car i drive
• was told that the only reason i have my job is because she didn't want it
• more times than i can count my guy was referred to as a douchebag because of the prestigious field of work he's in
  

SERIOUSLY?? next time, honey, a simple thank-you will do.

and where was everyone else during this barrage of barbs? right there, witnessing the verbal attack, DOING NOTHING. co-worker 2 sat around, meekly smiling, not offering much. co-worker 1's new roommate was equally as horrified, but glad to not be the victim of her attention for once. the best part, though, of this whole CRAZY evening, is that this gal, co-worker 1, was SO over the top with her venomous reception of us that we couldn't help but find humor in the whole debacle:

"stop being a liar, belly. how mush do you make?"
i haven't lied about anything and i'm not going to tell you. AND this question is entirely inappropriate.
"look, i don't really care. good. i'm glad for you. i'm happy you are doing well."
great. thanks.
"just tell me how mush you make."
nope.
"JUS' TELL ME HOW MUSH YOU MAKE!"
no.
"fine. then i'll [hiccup] stop helping you at work" (co-worker 1 is a glorified admin. i have an office. i rely on her to take care of glorified admin tasks to get my job done.)
aw, come on. i need you. you can't stop helping me.
"then tell me how mush you make."
nope.
"fine. i hate you. i'm quitting shoon, anyway."
really? you can't. what are we going to do without you?
"how mush do you make."
[silence]
"come on. don't be a liar. just tell me how mush you make."

relieved to finally be free from her negativity and darkness, at the end of the night my guy and i fell into our car and laughed the entire way home. "what the HELL was THAT??!" we giggled. the drive home was filled with chuckles and tittering at recounting just how utterly insane the whole ordeal was.

today, i found myself mulling over numerous flashbacks from last evening. i was a little unsettled at the fact that my day was consumed with recollection of yesterday evening's events. i finally realized that i should be grateful to co-worker 1. in a strange way, she solidified for me just how confident, strong and successful i am. among other insults, i stared down taunts of being called fat to my face (horror of horrors!!) with the grace and dignity of a wizened mother patiently batting away the irrational tantrum of a five-year-old. i have a very nice life. i have a great guy. i have a good job. and, most surprising to myself, i do not crumble under the weight of being called "big" in front of a room of people.

here's to finding peace. peace within ourselves, within our lives, in our relationships, with our jobs, with our bodies. peace be with you, co-worker 1.

one more f.u...

oh yeah. and one more big f.u. to ill-fitting, cheaply made fat girl jeans. no more. out with the old, unflattering, bought-in-an-

exasperated-state because-there-was-nothing-else-
that-fit and-i'm-a-shopaholic jeans and in with the judiciously-purchased, fabulous wardrobe items.

it is pouring today - a welcome winter sigh in this crusty, old, dry city. running the few yards from a primo parking spot to my back door left me utterly drenched. with all of my 'after-work' attire crumpled up under weeks worth of laundry, donning comfy dry duds for the remainder of fun-ass friday proved to be a challenge... piles upon piles of laundry in the hamper(s) means slim pickins in the wardrobe. it is rare that i find myself choosing between those articles of clothing that have somehow survived multiple decades and the crap that made its way to the bottom of the pile because, well, it's shitty... but tonight was one of those nights. i found 'em. the ill-fitting, slightly too big in all the wrong areas, cheap denim jeans that i bought for a bargain at one of my favorite discount stores... and i've been tugging, pulling, and picking at them uncomfortably all night.

in the spirit of the new year, new beginnings, cleaning out the old and eschewing in the brand spankin' new, these shitty fat girl jeans are going right in the trash. tonight. ...along with the lack of sense that led me to purchase such jeans...