Because I just got back from Apple Hill and haven’t given “birth” to my current food baby yet, I felt this was an appropriate flashback post. I have no shame…
Ya’ll…
I don’t even know where to start.
I think there’s no hope for me.
I try to be good.
No.
No. That’s a boldface lie. I’ll be real. I don’t try. Not at all.
My “trying” is remembering to ask for nonfat milk in my venti salted caramel mocha.
This past week it’s been fall break for us teachers over in my neck of the woods. Because I had no solid, established plans to go somewhere cool, I knew I’d be making the rounds at my favorite eating establishments.
Because it isn’t fall break unless I eat my weight in carbs and almost slip into a diabetic coma.
So, I thought I’d share with you some of the ridiculousness I put into my fat gob this past week. It’s like a really pathetic travel picture slideshow, but instead of pictures of me in front of the Grand Canyon, you get to see exactly why I’m struggling to button my new stretchy jeans.
How fun!
But, first, I have to share with you just how much of a lost cause I am. It’s been a minute since I’ve shared a diet woe or food foible, so it was bound to happen that I’d find myself knee deep in embarrassment or ridiculousness.
On Saturday, I attended a family member’s baby shower. I was super excited to go, because I heard that they were ordering bundtinis from Nothing Bundt Cakes. Their cakes are just ungodly good. They must use a metric ton of sugar, butter, and unicorn blood in just one cake. That has to be why they’re so good.
I also heard that if you didn’t RSVP and you just showed up, you wouldn’t get a bundtini, because they were ordering just enough for the attendees and no extra.
I made sure I RSVP’d by phone, email, snail mail, and telegram.
It was so hard waiting for cupcake o’clock. Pure hell.
When the time finally came to have our bundtinis, it was utter agony to choose just one.
I could have eaten one entire cupcake tier and still had room for a steak dinner.
Eventually, I settled on red velvet.
It was delectable, but quite small. I really needed another bundtini, or 7…
There were still, at least, 15 little morsels of heaven left. I reported this interesting discovery to my mom. I told her I was most definitely going to eat another one.
She said, “Well, what if some people haven’t gotten theirs yet?”
To this, I responded:
“Ya snooze, ya lose, ladies!”
Cupcakes, just sitting out in the open, after a good 20 minutes, are fair game in my book.
Still, it made me question the possibility of just grabbing one and eating it right in front of God and everybody.
So, I scoped the cupcake spot out for a good 10 minutes until the coast was clear. Once there was no one in sight, I snatched one, and made a beeline for the bathroom.
Yes, I felt the need to have more than my fair share of cupcakes, and in utter disgrace, I scarfed down someone else’s designated cupcake as I hid in.the.bathroom.
The fact that my gut is resting ever so elegantly on the counter is evidence that I didn’t even need ONE cupcake.
#whenyourfoodbabyisbiggerthanthemothertobesbump
This short aside ended up being a little more long-winded than I had first intended. So, I’ll share my gluttonous menu from this past week in a separate post.
Just sitting in line to get gas, taking pics of my food baby.
*Mother-to-be: If you read this, know you positively glowed with happiness and impending motherhood. I, in no way, wanted to upstage you with my food baby belly. This was unplanned, unintended, and rather uncomfortable. Please accept my sincerest apologies.
Tag: shame
For Shame
Disclaimer: If you normally read my blog for its satire and humor content, and you aren’t a fan of rants OR you don’t want your fabulous opinion of me to possibly change, maybe skip this one.
If you ain’t scurred, then read on.
Last night, I RSVP’d “maybe” to the Reno Women’s March on Washington happening on the 21st. I think it’s pretty darn awesome that women (and men) are assembling to demonstrate their support for Planned Parenthood, BLM, the LGBTQ community, NoDAPL, and many other worthy causes. I mean, rock on! Right?!
I want it to be made amply clear that I’m a supporter of all human kind. I do my best to not discriminate and to accept all people from all walks of life. Whenever I discover a stereotype I might have, I do my best to learn as much as I can about what I believe, what I think, and what more I can learn about what I am misunderstanding.
I also want to express that I do not get into politics on my blog. There is enough of that all over social media. It’s quite literally thrown into our faces on a daily basis. I like to think that my blog and what I write about transcends the negativity of reality. My blog is about reality, but the kind of reality that is fun to laugh at.
I’m not even going to go into who I voted for or what I believe about the state of our world in that respect. I want all people of any political affliation (my phone autocorrected that to ‘affliction’. I wonder if that has some hidden meaning?) to be welcome here. I don’t want to get into politics, because it tarnishes what I intend to do here-create a space where people can relate and laugh about real life “fuck me” experiences. So, I’m not getting into politics.
Nope.
What I do intend to do in this post is express my disdain for the overused idea of shaming. In looking up the exact definition of ‘shaming’, I found that there isn’t a classical definition for the exact word ‘shaming’. This word or idea is a derivation of ‘shame’.
Google defines shame as:
A painful feeling of humiliation or distress caused by the consciousness of wrong or foolish behavior.
In recent years we’ve practically changed the meaning of this word to mean:
Being made to feel inadequate or less than for something you can’t help or for just fucking being who you are.
Shame is now an action and is inflicted upon victims by people for varied reasons, instead of being an emotion born internally.
Shaming is bad. I.e. Fat Shaming, Slut Shaming, Mom Shaming, Food Shaming, Feelings Shaming, and on and on.
The last two types of shaming I listed came from Wanderlust Magazine. So, no, I’m not making those up.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not OK to make people feel bad just because it makes you feel better. That’s terrible behavior, and if you behave that way, you’re the problem.
However, we are overusing and abusing the idea of shaming.
Why I previously mentioned the march in my post was because I was creeping on the discussions on the event page, because I knew there’d be some drama found there (I only read news articles on Facebook for the entertaining drama that always surfaces in the comments), and, huzzah! There were 118 comments on a post someone made on the page.
I tried to find said post this morning, but I either grew distracted trying to find it or it was removed.
The woman (I believe one of the march organizers) who wrote the post said something about it being a good idea to leave kids and strollers home if attending the march.
This created huge backlash.
This one woman went on and on and on about how she was being “shamed” as a mother for wanting to bring her kids.
As I read her comments, that got more and more pretentious, I wanted to puke all over what she was saying (where’s the puke option for posts?).
Nowhere. Nowhere did anyone shame this woman in the comments.
This woman cried shaming over a kindly worded suggestion.
Get.the.fuck.over.yourself.
Seriously, not everything is shaming. Not everything someone says that you don’t agree with is fucking shaming.
Alright?!
In fact, I believe that a certain amount of shame helps us learn how to not be disrespectful assholes.
That whiny woman could have ignored the comment, and continued with her plans to bring her kids, and all would have been fine.
Free speech and the ability to speak our minds is an important right, but when you don’t use your brain, your free speech just comes off as unintelligent sniveling.
I’ve decided I don’t really want to march with people who feel entitled to believe that anyone who doesn’t agree with them is “shaming” them.
No, not all of the people marching for these important causes is like that woman. But, I know there will be more of them there. How could I possibly spot them in a huge crowd of people? They’ll be the ones asking random people if there will be a participation trophy for attending the march.
Nah. I’m good.
I’ll just fight the good fight by growing some lady balls so I don’t mistake disagreement for shaming.
#smh
Source
Source for featured image.
