The Dilemma of the Moment

I've stalled off posting the last two days due to an absolutely shitty attitude. I didn't think it was necessary to splash all over you good people.

Today, however, leaves me in an ironic position: trapped somewhere between wanting to champion the fat girls and having a small Asian woman assume I'm pregnant. I'm not, by the way. Let me explain.

Last night we watched the movie The Invention of Lying, which turned out much better than I thought, considering I was still in that shitty mood when we started. It's based in a world where everyone tells the absolute truth (brutal or not), not because they have morals or anything but because they physically can't comprehend saying something that isn't true. They don't even have use of the word 'true' or 'lie'. The point being that if someone thinks you're a fat loser, they tell you to your face without a second thought. And much of the dating interaction involves determining whether or not someone's genetics are good enough for you: i.e. pretty enough, making enough money, etc. The nerds end up with the nerds, the fat people with other fat people, and the hot attractive people - a club I've never been in due to my dress size - end up with other hot attractive people based solely on their hottness. Kinda like Hollywood. And they only judge based on appearance: overweight = loser, period. It all ended well, the fat man got the hot girl, and the whole thing left me somewhat dumbfounded. I was shocked at some of the brutal comments, which was a large part of the humor, but at the same time completely true out here in the real world. We all do that: judge people and assume that anyone overweight is lesser somehow. I felt like I needed to be all I could be at my size, and for those of you who don't know me, that size ain't 6.

So I go to work today, like any other day, and right before my shift ends this very small Asian woman comes running in, grabs a hand basket for herself and her husband, and starts buying half the store. At the end of the whole thing, she takes all the bags from me and won't let me carry a thing, saying something in very broken English about 'pregnant'. She thinks I'm pregnant.  Now any woman will tell you there's nothing worse in the world than someone assuming you're pregnant when you're not. For me, this is the second time. The first time I was gearing up for my senior prom and I responded with hurt indignation and called the guy a few nasty names, as most would. This time I started laughing. I joked that if she wants to spend over $1100 with me, she can call me pregnant all day. I'm sure however that its messing with me on some deeper level; I just haven't acknowledged how deep.

Now here I am, debating: do I go out and be a damn, happy fat girl or get my ample buns in the gym so no one mistakes me for pregnant ever again?

Choices, choices.