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Guest Post: Fuck, someone noticed!

27 Jan

Today our girl Shel talks about some hard shit. On one hand she’s talking about her weight  and health and how she’s going to deal with her situation.  But she’s also echoing the ideas of accountability and community that we’ve been mentioning this week. I must say, I’m on board with you, Shel! Be it support, well-timed jokes, or recipe swaps, I’m on Team Shel for this awesome undertaking.  <3

Last week, my best friend said I was fat.  I am paraphrasing, of course.  And while it came from a place of love, there was a second when I thought to myself “fuck, someone noticed!”  Umm…duh.

I have lived all my life pretty much ignoring the fact that I have weight issues and I am always so shocked when someone brings it up, or when my VW sized ass prevents me from doing something or wearing something that I feel like I should be able to do. 

In elementary school, it was noticed and brought up, but so was big ears, being tall, being short, being skinny, etc…everyone gets picked on in elementary school so it never seemed anything but ordinary.  In junior high, it was noticed but I was smart and funny, played volleyball and basketball and was a pretty popular fat kid.  So again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  In high school, I was super punk rock and played the violin.  I purposefully made myself noticed.  I was “the girl with the mohawk”, not the “fat girl”.  In my adult life, I have never wanted for friends, boyfriends, sex partners.  I have never let the fact that I wasn’t a size 6 stand in my way of getting anything I wanted.  My heath has always been good, no high blood pressure, no diabetes, never had high cholesterol.  I am outgoing, vivacious, fucking adorable and have always been up to something.  Not to mention a better than average self-esteem.  In short, my junk in the trunk was easy to ignore.  Until last week.

Last week, over an amazing Venezuelan dinner in NYC, my best friend said I was fat.  We talked about it, nothing was ignored, reality was on the table.  And because I love myself almost as much as he loves me, I committed to him that I would speak to my doctor and have a serious conversation regarding my weight.  Friday, after the nurse returned a blood pressure reading of ‘high’ for the first time in my life, that conversation happened.  I would say my timing is impeccable.

I talked, my doctor listened.  My doctor talked, I listed.  It was a highly productive and given my blood pressure rating, highly motivational chat.  Apparently, as you get older (wait…I am older too?  Son of a bitch!) your body has a more difficult time compensating for extra weight.  Everything works harder, your heart, your liver and kidneys, and therefore runs down much quicker.  And frankly, I have no time to be running down.  I have way too much shit to do.

So, with that conversation, some typical obsessive/compulsive spreadsheet creation, and enrolling some key people in my goal, a number was set. 50 pounds by Jan 01, 2012.  I struggled with whether or not to put this out into the public domain but I am hoping by doing that, I will be held accountable.  By saying the words out loud, I have made it real.  Here’s to keeping it real, ya’all.

By the way, my BFF also said that I am whoring around too much (validating my self-esteem, thank you!) and drinking too much.  In my defense, Rome wasn’t built in a day and I need a cocktail.  One thing at a time.


Guest Post: Branded–The Scarlet H

17 Nov

We’re breaking new ground, scoundrels. This guest post is endearing and honest, but mostly, it’s reality. So many people are affected by STDs. I’m not sure how much this conversation is had in the open, but today is as good as any to start a public dialogue about what many sweep under the rug and pretend doesn’t exist. For the sake of anonymity, we’ll call this guest blogger Mary, Mary Quite Contrary. Mary is braving what we wouldn’t ever want to experience–navigating dating with an STD.

TTTM has yet to venture into the territory of STDs, dating, and the oftentimes fact-less stigmas that are attached to STDs and the people that have them. Regardless of how you feel about this topic today, you will undoubtedly walk away from your monitor/laptop/PDA/whatever with food for thought. This is definitely a subject worth the conversation.

I’m 30 years old and I just found out this summer that I have herpes.

There, I said it. It has been weighing on my chest (and genitals) for several months now.

And, no, if you saw me walking down the street you would have no idea that I have a Sexually Transmitted Disease. I may wear the occasional low cut shirt, but my cooter is always covered, and I’m not out on the town slutting it up.

I actually got herpes (more specifically, HSV 2, the down south kind) from my last boyfriend, Continue reading

Couch Exchange 2010, Men’s Health, & Mea Culpa

18 Oct

“Gah! I’m pretty sure I just threw my back out. Yeah. Ugh!”

Yet, I continued to give all I had to make the Couch Exchange of 2010 a success. I would have my Mad Men-esque, hideaway sofa bed if it killed, and just as sure as shit stinks (prepare for dramatics) it almost did.

“Whoa, whoa. I have to put it down. I just fucked up my back bad.”

As much as I wanted to keep going and not seem like the wimpy queer that can’t do any strenuous activities without “chipping a nail”, I had to step back and let Thunder Horse and Papa Sport take over. Little did I know that defining moment would leave me with limited mobility for seven days. Count ’em, people, seven! Continue reading

Guest Post: Hells no.

3 Sep

We enter our 30s. We question mortality. It’s inevitable. Well, today’s guest post was faced with hers last week. If you haven’t heard of MRSA, I suggest you brush up on your literature. This staph infection is aggressive, resilient, and a nasty sonofabitch. More and more, I’m hearing of cases involving multiple surgeries, extended hospital stays, thousands of dollars, and yeah, sometimes death. So when my good friend F-U-MRSA submitted this to TTTM, I wanted to share it with all of you scoundrels immediately. Many of you may say, what a way to start a holiday weekend. I say, “Sit down. Shut up. And read!” Weekends, like this one, are prime MRSA transmission environments—people in parks fondling volleyballs, outdoor water fountains…other people’s genitalia (am I right?).

This is not meant to scare you or ruin you weekend. I just want you to be informed. I don’t know about you, but questioning how long I will be on this ride with you Scoundrels is one thing. Dealing with the fact that I haven’t seen my mom in months and may not see her ever again is a whole other jar of pickles.

F-U-MRSA, thanks for such a real post. xoxo –theVar

FUCK. What the hell just happened to me? I’m one of those married thirty-something’s and even more grown-up….I have TWO wee kiddies, one 2yr old and one 7wk old. DOUBLEFUCK. Literally. Continue reading

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