sublingua

The heart with a mind of its own.

(Be present.)

The mind with a heart of its own.

(It's past.)

The dream that is your waking life.

(Go there now.)

No Fat Demons!
Wednesday, Mar. 24, 2004

Clerks

Max and I went into one of those natural food stores for a few natural food items last night. We don't go to this particular natural foods store very often, but often enough I suppose for the following kinds of events to occur:

As the clerk was finishing ringing up our stuff (tortillas, salsa, brussels sprouts, salad mix, plain yogurt, Quorn, frozen fruit bars) and taking Max's cash, I started bagging the groceries. (Though it's become the kind of thing one does in natural food stores, I do this even in non-natural food stores because the groceries go through the checkout en masse and then get sent to different locations and it's easier to divide them up at the register than later in the trunk of the car.)

I was talking to Max, asking if he wanted dinner or whatever, and the clerk kept looking over at me. Finally, she said, "Um. I'm sorry. But you have gotten so thin. Have you lost weight?" I kind of laughed, but was mostly a bit surprised. I said, "Yeah, a little bit." She said again, "You're just so thin." I said something along the lines of "Isn't it funny that you apologize for saying it when supposedly everyone wants to hear it?" But mostly I was kind of taken aback at a near total stranger pointing it out. I don't suppose I came off as very friendly to the poor woman, but given my rants about people's comments, I suppose it's only to be expected.

Thinking over my lukewarm and/or lackluster response later, I wondered why I wasn't thrilled that someone pointed out that I'm thin. One of Max's coworkers Ursula, a round German woman, had pointed it out earlier that day that I was getting "so much thinner." And I kind of brushed it off, saying that I was still working out and watching my diet, but that I still have about twenty pounds to lose (closer, as of last night, to seventeen). Later, she told Max that I was "her inspiration." And, no, I'm not going to go off on her for saying it. Mostly I feel kind of sorry for her for saying it, for having to say it, for not recognizing that someone eats right and exercises should not really be all that "inspiring," but should just be another person like you or whatever. (I'm not saying that too elegantly, but I'm tired. And I don't know what exactly it is that I'm trying to say here.)

Fat Like Me

And I went shopping at the mall today, which I do with a kind of grim determination. When it comes to shopping, I set these little tasks before me and then I perform them with all the enthusiasm of a trained circus animal. For example, today I told myself that I was going to go into all those stores that have the almost invisible "No Fat Chicks" signs on the front doors. I told myself that I would walk around and look at the clothes, and would pull things off the rack and maybe even try them on. So that was my task. I went into the Limited, Express, Rave, and two or three other little cookie cutter stores. I walked from rack to rack and pulled a few clothes off and checked them out. The clerks, who would have turned up their noses at Fat Sublingua, smiled and were very friendly to Thin Sublingua. They asked me if I needed help and so on. I didn't tell them that I was really a fat chick though, and I kind of felt like one of those "secret shopper" people, who come in to critique various stores' customer service abilities. I wanted to mark them down for not being snooty (or snotty) enough to fat people. I wanted to point out that they weren't nearly smirky enough when I pulled size 10's from the rack and held them up to myself in front of the mirrors.

And, no, I don't think I'm being all that sensitive or paranoid. There really is something that happens when a fat chick walks into a thin chick store. I mean, ask any brown and/or black person what happens when they walk into...well, into anywhere. (And I am reminded of a Chris Rock "joke" in which, after he informs a white audience that he's a black man, he says, "You know that none of you would trade places with me--and I'm rich.") This doesn't happen to thin, white people. So if you are of that tribe, you just don't know.

Anyway, I'm battling The Fat Image Demons these days. I look in the mirror (in every mirror but The Demon Who Does The Right Thing's skinny mirror) and see who I was seventy or eighty pounds ago. I don't see the rows of chins anymore, nor do I see the rolls of flesh around my belly. I lost those almost a year ago, but they're just starting to disappear from my mind's eye. I suppose my head will take a while to catch up. But there's time.

Walk The Walk:

Went walking with Judi again this morning and she told me that she was taking a friend out for a birthday lunch today at a restaurant that I've been meaning to try for, oh, the last thirty years or so. It made me think that I need to sit down and make a list of things that I have always wanted to do (and have never done) before I leave my beloved city.

So, what did I do? I went and rented some more movies. And then I came down to The Other Location to surf the net.

I live a charmed life, really.

retreat or surrender

More lies:
Waking Sleeping Demons II - Sunday, Oct. 30, 2011
Waking Sleeping Demons - Saturday, Oct. 29, 2011
time - Friday, May. 20, 2011
- - Wednesday, Oct. 06, 2010
The Return - Tuesday, Oct. 05, 2010

� sublingua sublingua.diaryland.com.