Je Suis Fatiguée*

After the events of last night and all the news coverage and Internet posts on Ferguson, I am emotionally drained. I ended up watching Sleepless in Seattle for the umpteenth time just to shut off my brain for a couple hours. Doesn’t change the fact that the system sucks, that there is injustice in the world and I’m still unsure what I can do to help make things better.

Yesterday’s post about T-Wizzle and Junior generated a lot of traffic and positive response, for which I say thank you. I am hesitant to go back to writing my usual wackiness after that, but then this blog is about having the moxie to say what is on my mind and not second guessing myself or feeling self-conscious about it. So there will continue to be pop culture commentary in between more thoughtful, vulnerable missives.

In the meantime, let’s all do our best to be kind and patient with each other, and take time out to rest. Lord knows we all need it right now.

*French for “I am tired” or “I am fatigued.”

The Five F’s of Moxie – and the One F That Is the Most F’ed of All

Many years ago, Momcat told me about the five F’s of her life: female, fat, forty, fatigued, and fed up. At the time, I could sympathize, but I couldn’t quite empathize.

Now I can empathize. And that one F – fat – pisses me off to no end.

I am dealing with the fatigue part pretty well – giving up gluten has helped immensely with the brain fog, fatigue and tiredness I used to feel after eating. (Not to mention that sixth F, flatulence. But we don’t need to go there.) Being female, well, I’m okay with that too, though peri-menopause is a bitch. I really believe we leave the menstrual years the way we came in: with unpredictable cycles, uncontrolled mood swings, and an intense desire for sweets. Honestly, I welcome the crone years. I think it will be very liberating in the same way that being a child was so freeing. There’s nothing I can do about being forty, so I am being with it as best I can. As for being fed up, I journal, blog, tweet, meditate, and listen to self-hypnosis MP3s to help me not get so frustrated. It does make a difference.

But the F I cannot abide is fat. A week ago I saw a picture of myself at an event and was so disgusted. What the hell happened to my body? I never was blessed with fast metabolism, but really?

I admit that I haven’t exercised regularly for about 3 months now. I am the kind of person who needs to commit to a class and pay money in order to get into a steady pattern with working out. I will work out at home occasionally, but it’s not something I’m in the habit of doing. This summer has been very difficult financially, so the exercise classes I’d normally be paying for (aerobics and lap swimming at public pools) I couldn’t afford.

And apparently giving up soda (which happened accidentally on purpose around the same time as the gluten-free thing) doesn’t make a huge difference unless you drink more than 1 can a day. It’s been nearly 3 months and my weight hasn’t dropped at all. This pisses me off too. I have read that going gluten-free sometimes means you put on weight because you’re eating gluten-free processed foods that are higher in fat/calories/sugar than their glutentastic counterparts. Now, I admit to doing this, and to sometimes forgetting that gluten free does not mean fat/calorie free. But how is this fair? Why do all those gluten eaters get to have all the gluten AND the skinny jeans, too?

So now I’m the angry fat chick reading tweets and blog posts and Facebook updates from friends who are all losing weight and they are so happy and I want to punch them all in their skinny little faces. Except I don’t know how to throw a decent punch, unless you count Tae Bo videos or cardio kickboxing classes.

I will get my shit together and release some weight. Notice I said “release” and not “lose”. I’m not going to lose weight, mind you, because if I lose it, I may go looking for it again. It’s happened before. But all you skinny bitch friends of mine – and you know who you are – if you see me giving you the evil eye, or perhaps shooting a blow dart in your general direction, you know why.