It's time to write something again. Of course I can't just sit down and write something, it has to be an attention-getting stunt. I'm okay with this. So tomorrow it begins: Script Frenzy! 30 days to write a 100 page script. I have an idea I'm pretty happy with. Before you ask, there are no fat runners in it. In fact, the main character is pretty physically different from me, which I guess is no big whoop except that the last one was so similar. Anyway, if James Patterson can write an African American then I can write a skinny blonde girl. She will likely find love because, well, it's the movies, and it may or may not end tragically. Not sure yet.
So yay! 3.33 pages a day seems so easy compared to 1667 words, especially given how much extra space is necessary to format a script, but I'm sure it won't be the cakewalk I'm expecting. Of course you will hear all of my moans and groans when I'm stuck on my page count. This time is also a little different because I didn't care what kind of crap I cranked out when I wrote the novel, I just wanted to make the word count. This time I'd like to actually make something good, in fact I confess that I have had a fantasy or two about a talented director getting ahold of my script and insisting on making the movie. It could happen. I don't need to be rich and famous (not BOTH anyway, that's just greedy) but it would be the coolest thing ever to see the scenes I envision in my head playing out on the big screen. Anyway, I digress...I have to do the work first.
In other news, things have been fairly busy for me. The Fat Rights Coalition took over Big Fat Blog a few weeks ago so I've been trying to keep up with that. I've also been doing a lot of work on a personal project and dealing with some single girl growing pains. Nothing life-threatening, just...I don't know...part of the process of growing out of codependency is learning to enjoy life on your own. Hanging out by myself has not always been my favorite thing but little by little I'm getting to the point where I can appreciate spending time by myself instead of being frustrated by it. Important stuff, especially since I finally realized that I really can't control when I'm going to meet somebody again. So it seems logical to me that my next goal should be making peace with my singlehood and perhaps becoming the most contented single girl evar! More on that as it happens.
Also school started this week. I'm taking History, Psychology and Sociology, all online. I'm excited to learn that stuff, especially the History since I've always found my expertise in that subject to be sorely lacking. I could blame indifferent teachers in high school but I think the real issue was that I was too young to see the relevance that past events had to the present day. I read my first history chapter yesterday (on the Industrial Revolution) and I found myself drawing parallels all over the place and gaining a greater understanding of how those events shaped the world today and how certain patterns were repeating themselves. I know, I sound like a giant nerd, getting excited about learning, but...well...I kind of am excited, so there you go.
It wasn't easy to get through that whole chapter though. Part of it is probably the dry textbook writing, but even when I read novels now, I find I can only do a few pages at a time before I get distracted by something else. It annoys me because there are so many great things I want to read and it takes me forever to finish a book. Anyway, tomorrow I move on to Psych. I wonder if it will be any easier to digest that material. I'm sure I'll let you know.
xoxo,
C
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Striving for Authenticity
I cried in the middle of my workout with Maria yesterday. She had me doing a bunch of stuff that my muscles had never done before and that turned out to be really hard (WTF is up with that elliptical thingy??) and apparently I had been storing up some stress over the past couple of days because around 5:50 when I was so ready to be done and she was walking me through the next set of torturous agony I pay her to put me through, I just burst into tears. It felt good, actually. Cathartic. After we finished up, I headed home and, since I had the place to myself for a little while, I just sat on the bed and had a good cry. Following that, a nice, warm bath, then a good talk with W. We had all (Rosie included) been having kind of a grumpy day, so it was nice to commiserate for a while. I don't know if it made either of them feel any better, but I did feel like I was ending the day on a higher note than when I got back from my workout, so it was good for me.
These past months have been a festival of personal discovery for me. I'm starting to develop preferences for certain things that I never would have realized without all this time to myself. For instance, I freaking love brussels sprouts sauteed with bacon. I also love movies and books set in the Jane Austen era (the Regency era according to Google), I prefer soapy dramatic tv shows (think Private Practice or Ugly Betty) to reality TV, and I just might have a tiny longing deep down in my soul to write something. Not crappy, thrown-together, done-in-a-month novels for fun, but something with meaning, something of significance to me.
Funny though, I know this self-discovery is all due to my being single right now and that's definitely a good thing, but I also have a deep-seated longing for couplehood that will not go away. The imagined safety of codependence is such a seductive thing. No, of course, I wouldn't want to be in another codependent relationship because it was very limiting in a lot of ways, but part of me does long for someone to bounce off of, to share experiences with, to take care of and to have take care of me. I know, that's just normal and human. And the feeling isn't usually significant enough to get my attention, but it is always there. I can only hope that when the world starts being interested in me again, I will have the wherewithal to hold out for someone who is really worth it.
Anyway, that's what's going on in my head lately.
xo,
Carrie
These past months have been a festival of personal discovery for me. I'm starting to develop preferences for certain things that I never would have realized without all this time to myself. For instance, I freaking love brussels sprouts sauteed with bacon. I also love movies and books set in the Jane Austen era (the Regency era according to Google), I prefer soapy dramatic tv shows (think Private Practice or Ugly Betty) to reality TV, and I just might have a tiny longing deep down in my soul to write something. Not crappy, thrown-together, done-in-a-month novels for fun, but something with meaning, something of significance to me.
Funny though, I know this self-discovery is all due to my being single right now and that's definitely a good thing, but I also have a deep-seated longing for couplehood that will not go away. The imagined safety of codependence is such a seductive thing. No, of course, I wouldn't want to be in another codependent relationship because it was very limiting in a lot of ways, but part of me does long for someone to bounce off of, to share experiences with, to take care of and to have take care of me. I know, that's just normal and human. And the feeling isn't usually significant enough to get my attention, but it is always there. I can only hope that when the world starts being interested in me again, I will have the wherewithal to hold out for someone who is really worth it.
Anyway, that's what's going on in my head lately.
xo,
Carrie
Monday, March 2, 2009
Personal Body Politics
Certain parts of my body are illegal. They are too much, they strain the bounds of common decency, they must offend even the most open-minded onlooker. At least that's what I think when I look at a photo of myself like this one. My gut reaction is to cover up parts like my belly or my chin or my arms. I feel the need to protect the world from having to see these representations of 'not the feminine ideal'.
Do you see how much bullshit that is? What exactly is to be gained by having a belly that is more flat and less round, or having arms that are more solid and less squishy? What is actually wrong with this body? What is the great crime I'm perpetrating by wearing a sweater that defines the smiling curve of my belly? I don't know. When I look at it logically, I can't figure out what I'm castigating myself for. Yet I continue to pick.
I'm not just your average fat person, either. I've been working on fat acceptance (or size acceptance or body diversity or fat positivity or whatever you want to call the movement) for around a dozen years. I have actively worked to eradicate the negative voices in my head, to love my body the way it is and dress it in comfortable, attractive clothing. And still I self-criticize.
Imagine how much self-hatred I would be swimming in if I hadn't made that effort. Imagine the thousands upon thousands of fat people who still believe 100% that their bodies are an abomination, a crime against society. Imagine the self-loathing that accompanies their every step, their every decision. Now imagine an industry whose entire purpose is to exploit that self-loathing, an industry that looks at the body in this picture and says "Yes, you are disgusting. You don't fit in, you should hate yourself. Perhaps you should buy these products and services so you can fix that unappealing body of yours." Only the products and services don't work for 98% of people. Incredibly, instead of the products and services being held accountable for their failure rates, the industry somehow manages to turn it around on their customers. They are at fault for the failure of the products and services they purchased. If only their customers would JUST TRY HARDER and/or BUY MORE PRODUCTS...
This is why I think the diet industry is gross.
Do you see how much bullshit that is? What exactly is to be gained by having a belly that is more flat and less round, or having arms that are more solid and less squishy? What is actually wrong with this body? What is the great crime I'm perpetrating by wearing a sweater that defines the smiling curve of my belly? I don't know. When I look at it logically, I can't figure out what I'm castigating myself for. Yet I continue to pick.
I'm not just your average fat person, either. I've been working on fat acceptance (or size acceptance or body diversity or fat positivity or whatever you want to call the movement) for around a dozen years. I have actively worked to eradicate the negative voices in my head, to love my body the way it is and dress it in comfortable, attractive clothing. And still I self-criticize.
Imagine how much self-hatred I would be swimming in if I hadn't made that effort. Imagine the thousands upon thousands of fat people who still believe 100% that their bodies are an abomination, a crime against society. Imagine the self-loathing that accompanies their every step, their every decision. Now imagine an industry whose entire purpose is to exploit that self-loathing, an industry that looks at the body in this picture and says "Yes, you are disgusting. You don't fit in, you should hate yourself. Perhaps you should buy these products and services so you can fix that unappealing body of yours." Only the products and services don't work for 98% of people. Incredibly, instead of the products and services being held accountable for their failure rates, the industry somehow manages to turn it around on their customers. They are at fault for the failure of the products and services they purchased. If only their customers would JUST TRY HARDER and/or BUY MORE PRODUCTS...
This is why I think the diet industry is gross.
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