Monthly Archives: November 2011

“It was worth every second next to that hot nut cart”

Have you seen this TED talk from Brittany Gibbons?  She’s one of the founders of Curvy Girl Guide, an online magazine that covers all your basic lady magazine fodder, but told from the perspective of regular sized women.

She started this campaign to get women to hate their bodies less by showing off her own body, standing in Times Square in her bathing suit.  The video of this talk is breathtaking.  Her conviction is contagious and her palpable fear at being on stage makes her seem real and relatable.  She’s not some Amazonian plus sized super model lolling about in her knickers telling me that I should believe in my own beauty; she’s a regular lady, being nervous about taking off her clothes in front of strangers.
At the end, she shows photos of other women in their bathing suits.  They all saw her on tv, baring it (mostly) all, being brave, and sending this message that she’s ok with how she looks.  And I totally teared up.  People being inspired by other people is always a tear jerker for me.

I loved everything about it.  Almost.

About five and a half minutes in, she says “I’m a mother three times over… I’ve earned ever single curve on my body.  And if that’s not sexy, I don’t know what is.”

And I felt annoyed at her.  Like she didn’t totally own up to her body, which she did say was the same body she’s had since she was 8.  She *earned* every curve by being a mother, which made those curves holy or something, instead of just the ordinary result of too much couch time.  No free pass for being fat if you haven’t been a mother?  Does she think she wouldn’t be sexy or be less sexy if she hadn’t had children?

I asked her about it, actually, and she graciously responded saying that it took motherhood for her to understand and appreciate her body.  Which I get.  I think.  I’m not really sure how much I can grok that perspective without being a mother myself, but I think I get it.

But still.

I don’t think it matters why you got fat, or why you stay fat, or if you’re working to be less fat.

What other people say or think is irrelevant.  Be ok with who you are.  Change things that you don’t like if you don’t like them.  But you can still be ok along the way.  You’re ok if you’re a mom.  Or a dad.
I’m ok.  You’re ok.


Filed under Chubby girl, the interwebs

This one goes on the Boo Shelf: The Particular Sadness of the Lemon Cake

I spent some of my precious Thanksgiving weekend hours reading The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, by Aimee Bender.


The girl character, Rose, can taste the feelings of the people whose food she eats.  Kinda like Like Water for Chocolate, except she doesn’t feel rage if the food’s full of rage, she just won’t like eating that cookie.  So there’s an element of mysticalness, but it doesn’t spin into something cool.  She eats factory made potato chips instead and we continue to plod through the dynamics of her adolescence.  It’s a typical lady-literature bit of fiction, that delves into the very ordinary little pains and misunderstandings and disconnects of a family.  The mom is a little too flighty and dad is a little too regular.  The brother probably has Asperger’s and our heroine is just sliding under the radar.  We get extra bittersweet insight into other characters, especially the mother, due to Rose’s foodie affliction.

It turns out that weird super powers run in the family, though, ’cause her brother turns into a folding chair and no one ever sees him again.

You think I kid.

But seriously.  Her brother vanishes never to be seen again, because he has turned into a chair.  Only Rose knows the truth.  Dad acts like it’s fine, maybe a little puzzling, that his son has disappeared.  And mom just believes that he’s exploring the Andes.

And Rose keeps her brother the folding chair safely tucked away in her closet.


I can’t even pretend to appreciate this lady’s nice writing style because just eye roll.

1 Comment

Filed under Book crave

weekend in pictures







1 Comment

Filed under Photography, weekend in pictures

what boys like

I don’t do Black Friday.  Too wild and woolly for me.  But I have spent an inordinate amount of time in the past two days scouring gift guides, catalogs and websites in an online shopping fiesta.

I usually find shopping for guys to be a challenge.  They don’t seem to be as covetous of stuff as the ladies, unless they’ve got an itch for some $800 rucksack for extreme camping.  While I don’t scratch those  kind of itches, I think I’ve actually come up with a ton of great stuff this year.

Men folk in my life will be receiving some of this bounty come Christmas.  Have a gander…

For guys who can rock a good cardigan…

Osterley Fair Isle Cardigan - $169

For an elbow patch appreciator…

H&M elbow patch sweater - $29.95

For your favorite ninja…

Samurai Sword Handled Umbrella - $29.99

For your beer guy…

Brew Your Own Beer Kit - $38

For the guy with spirits…

Ice Melts. Whisky Rocks. - $20

For meat snacks on the go guy…

7 Flavors of Jerky - $33

For meat snacks at home guy…

2 gourmet salumi - $25

For the guys with shoes…

Benjo's colored shoe lacing - $6

For the goofy guy…

Animal Butt Magnets - $14

For the outdoorsy guy…

Classic Opinel Pocket Knife - $16

For the puzzled guy…

Metal disentanglement puzzles - $15

I haven’t gotten all my guys yet, though, so any finds that you’ve been partial to are most welcome!  What are you getting for your dads, brothers, husbands and various other flavors of man-friends?









Leave a comment

Filed under Nifty things, Shopping

my favorite day of the year

couch pyjamas

The Friday after Thanksgiving is a marvelous day.  It has no purpose.  No agenda.  There’s still a whole weekend after that I can push the chores and errands into it.   It’s a day that seems specifically engineered to pay homage to pyjamas and movies on tv.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Thanksgiving is a pretty good day, too.

The David and I ran a 10K Turkey Trot in the morning.  He ran the whole way with me, which I loved.  Thankful doesn’t begin to describe what it feels like to have a person who’ll do that.

My head rationalizes that 6 miles isn’t really that far, but it sure feels like an epic saga while you’re in it.  An hour and fifteen minutes is a big chunk of time!  There was a good amount of trudgery struggledy.  And an unholy number of uphills.  But the recollection of that yuck seems vague and fuzzy now.  What I do remember was the incredible rainbow that we saw for much of the way in between miles 3 and 4.  And I remember the vanilla It’s-it I got at the finish.

Race bling in a tree

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

And then there’s the wonderful gluttonous feasting of Thanksgiving.  Oh the fabulous feasting!

My friends-who-are-family set up a deep fryer in their little backyard every year.  If you’ve never had deep fried turkey before, it’s not like what you get from a bucket at KFC.  Mostly it’s the same as everyone else’s turkey, but it cooks in about half an hour.  And because it cooks so quickly, it tends to be moister than roasted birds.

But it is pretty feckin terrifying to watch.

the turkey goes into a vat of boiling oil

We had a an impressive spread.  The David and I made Smitten Kitchen’s Chard and Sweet Potato Gratin and Thomas Keller’s Creamed Pearl Onions.

plate full of yum

We also made a Pumpkin Panna Cotta with pomegranate seeds for dessert.  I had no idea how easy panna cotta was to make.  Seriously.  It’s like making Jell-o.  I highly recommend trying it out.
The hardest part really was getting the extra ramekins we needed to serve 8 since I’m Maggie and I needed to have the fancy porcelain ones from France.

pretty dessert

And now I’m eating too much popcorn, half way paying attention to movies and deepening the ass divit in my couch.

1 Comment

Filed under Foodery, these are the days of my lives, Uncategorized

little facts


1.  I just tried to use the word kniving in a sentence.  It looked so weird that I started to doubt whether it was even a real word.  Which, of course, it is – but only if you spell it conniving.

2.  I had an opportunity to use the word conniving in an email to my boss type person today.

3.  You’re more likely to hurt yourself with a dull knife than a sharp one.

1 Comment

Filed under Little Facts, Tidbit

tiny books

I haven’t used my proper camera in forever because I am well and truly addicted to Instagram.

My love for this free iPhone app is like a perfect little glowing ball of warm fuzzy.

So when I discovered Prinstagram and the printed products they create from Instagram photos, I knew a purchase was pending.

Of course I wanted the tiny books.  TINY!  BOOKS!  But you need to have 72 photos to get 3 tiny books with no repeated images and I had only just installed the app on my phone that week.

Truth be told, the whole reason I installed the app was because my own company was launching a new  photobook from Instagram photos.  I was being a good employee and checking out the product.  But our books were simply not as tiny.  And that is where my priorities lay.

Then one day, a few weeks later, I had my 72 photos.  And that is the day I gave Prinstagram my $10 to give me my tiny books.

They took ages to get here.  They had to walk here all the way from Taiwan apparently.

But get here they did and boy.  Are they.  TINY.  !!!




And also?  Also!  They are magnetic.  So you can take your wondering about what the heck I’m going to do with ridiculously small books filled with faux vintage camera phone pictures, write them down on a slip of paper, and I will magnetify that note to the nearest steel or iron surface with my tiny book.


Filed under Nifty things