I am super blessed to return to the stage, next weekend, with THE BEST CABARET PERFORMERS IN NORTHERN NEVADA!!! <3
Burlesque, Boylesque, comedy, horror… and easter eggs with prizes hidden inside!
If you are in the Reno/Tahoe/Sacramento area… come to the show!
I will be giving away and raffling makeup!
Hugs are always free.
I never ever do this (share stuff like this).
Watch the teaser trailer for the documentary.
These glorious people sharing their professional and personal lives to help make the world a more tolerant and inclusive place for ALL women.
Things like this need to be seen.
And, remember fatshionistas: When one of us shines… we all shine!
Consider even a small donation.
If you can’t donate… that’s cool! You can always repost this.
I have a doctor that I see every couple of months. He’s helped me tremendously with my headaches/migraines and with my craniotomy recovery. I used to see him monthly.
He is an older gentlemen with a very ‘type a’ friendly personality… but, he has this nasty habit of being RUDE about my weight (and has been different levels of rude about it since I started seeing him). I’ve taken it to be “the price of admission” and have smiled through his garbage for a year and a half.
If his office needed to track my weight to do their job… they’d take it when I show up and write it in my chart (they have a scale). But, they don’t and they don’t. And, when he asks… he’s always always rude and shame-y about it.
Him knowing my weight doesn’t really help him do his job any better.
I am not going to him for weight loss assistance.
I decided, this last time I saw him, that I was going to lay down a professional boundary.
So, how much do you weigh?
You always ask me that. And, I always dodge the question. I can tell you right now… I don’t know. I have NO idea how much I weigh and I’d like to keep it that way.
But… you… have a PLAN, right?
Uh. No. I really don’t. I am wearing pants that are two sizes smaller than the last time you saw me, though.
So, you HAVE been losing weight?
Yeah. But, I can’t handle having that be a priority in my life. I get too obsessed over it and my self worth will revolve around inches and pounds and calories. I will start abusing myself mentally and physically… and I’ve kinda been on a “be nice to yourself and accept where you’re at” kick, lately.
I’ve been bigger than this. I’ve been smaller than this. I’ll be smaller again, soon enough. That’s what happens when someone recovers from a major medical condition and gets active again. I just don’t want to talk about it with you every time we see each other. I don’t want to stress about it.
He gave me a look and smiled. He didn’t get judgmental about it. He just accepted what I told him, made a note, and let it go. That would’ve been the opportunity to tell me his professional and medical reason for digging at me about my weight, if he had one.
We’ll see what he says/does next time I see him… to see if our “talk” helped at all. He isn’t a bad doctor (I’ve encountered some horrible abusive hostile medical professionals in my lifetime of being fat).
He just hasn’t had the opportunity to correct his behavior, yet.
Greetings from Los Santos! :)
Well, the Salton Sea, anyway.
I loved this abandoned gas station and market! I can’t wait to go back again later this Spring.
I just wanna play dress up and go on adventures for the rest of my life!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m a sucker for retro/modern style.
I pulled a thin turquoise sweater (Lane Bryant) over the blue floral dress (Hell Bunny via ModCloth)… turning it into a lovely full circle skirt.
I love the bright cheerful blues together with the red accessories.
Week in Photos:
I was super busy this week.
Made new friends. Performed in a hot sweaty rap video (doing things I don’t normally do… I swear!). Wore lipstick. Made fake bruises with makeup. Got real bruises doing stunts. Was my completely odd and socially awkward self. Made new friends.
I sniffed the directors jacket sleeve (to see if it was leather or not. … it wasn’t. … He was also wearing it at the time).
Laughed. Excessively. All week.
Shared life stories. Worked. Filled orders. Trying to balance everything.
Repaired vintage cocktail hats.
Spent time with my amazing photobomber cats.