Archive for June, 2002

“There are a million stories in the naked city**”, or so the quote goes.  From the moment you awake and hear the birds fluttering and singing, to the minute you open your eyes and see the spider in the corner of the room, or swing yourself out of bed and firmly place your feet on carpeting, hardwood floors, grass, or forest bedding, you’ve got a story to tell.

Don’t tell me you can’t write here.  Don’t tell me you don’t have the words.  Don’t tell me you don’t have the stories or the skills or the correct grammar to write here.

Don’t tell me your life is boring and you have nothing to share.  Don’t tell me that no one would be interested.

All of us have stories.  We have the skills to tell our stories because they need to be in our words.  Someone will be interested and it’s probably someone you never dreamed would be interested in something you have to say.  I don’t need perfect grammar to understand your heart.  I don’t need to see excellent writing skills to know that your soul is being shared and you need someone to listen.

You’ve got a story.  Each one of us has stories to share.  Something is happening to you right now and you have a story to share.

I want to hear it.  Tell me a story.

–

**I did try to find out who coined that thought but it’s used widely by so many that I can’t seem to find the original author or speaker of the phrase.

Last night (and again this morning) I could see the pink haze spilling across the eastern horizon.

I live about 150 miles away but the intensity of the fire is spilling upward (in elevation) to our carved out valley. We have a ring of smoke surrounded this town.

36,000 acres in less than 36 hours. 36,000 acres.

I haven’t even the words to describe how this is making me feel.

–

So, with this very dry weather, people are suffering, too. Dry skin is becoming a norm. Everyone I know is getting bloody noses on a daily occurrence. Even humidifiers are not helping. I’ve even resorted to caking my nostrils with vaseline before I go to bed. I know…sounds weird but it actually helps with moisture. These days, though, nothing is helping. I still get bloody noses.

–

Sierra Leone has a problem. Ok…the country has many problems but NPR educated me on a very serious problem today. Young women who were taken prisoner by opposing forces are now not being allowed to return home.

Why you may ask (you did, right???). Well, these young women were victims of violent sexual assaults. They are now tainted. They are unclean.

Unclean.

Their families want nothing to do with them. Men are shunning them. They are not allowed in schools. They cannot worship.

They have become the unclean.

Victims twice over.

–

I want to thank all of my readers for really insightful comments on my postings. You all make me think on a daily basis and I love the feedback.

Thank you.

I was well on my way into life when she came around. I had been surrounded by boys for most of my life and didn’t really know anything about girls. She became mine. I took her under my care.

I was 10 years old when my sister was born. I can remember the day she came into this world, grey and cloudy, cold Montana winter day. I remember the first time I set eyes on her and thought she was amazing. I’d only had brothers…what did I know about being a sister?

I loved her with a passion that I’ve only felt for one other person, my niece. My sister was someone special to me.

We grew up in different worlds, though. We were relatively poor when I was growing up. Our parents were younger and with me being the oldest, I was the guinea pig. I was a Navy brat and lived in too many places to count. She, on the other hand, got to live most of her life in 2 places, moving to our current town when she was 7 years old (she’s now 25). She was the youngest of four, the baby of the family.

I regret that I may not have been the best sister there could have been. I was gone when she was eight. I was in college and trying to live my own life. I barely remember the years she was growing up because I was going through my own growing stage. I don’t have a lot of memories of things we did like I do with my brothers. We didn’t make a connection in the same ways.

We’re older now, she’s married and pregnant with her first child, and I weep for the missed connection. I’ve tried to get closer to her but so much has happened that there always seems to be a barrier between us.

I want that kind of a relationship where my sister is my best friend…where I can call her up and invite her to a movie and it’s just us…no one else. There is always an entourage when we go somewhere…like she’s afraid to be alone with me. I don’t think I’ve ever had lunch with her where it was just the two of us. The only time we were able to make that connection was when we joined Weight Watchers. That, to me, became our special time. When she got pregnant, she was told she could no longer come and we lost our connection again.

I want a relationship with her that is as special as it was when she was a little girl. I want that connection back. I want a sister that I can tell my secrets to without having them told to our mom and then, from there, to everyone else.

I miss my sister…and she’s right here.

It’s funny how much the weight issue really touches each of us…whether we’re “skinny” or “fat.” It is something that we can understand because it is a real issue.

Those who are not touched by it seem, to me, to be more and more at a loss for compassion. I wonder if they were maltreated or called “fat” or “skinny” while growing up and now lash out at those very people who they could have connected with.

–

Thank you all for your feedback on this issue. It’s one that, to me, is an important one to address.

And…I’ll thank you all again because I made my first exodus to the Featured Content area. Wow…woohoo…(should I be lighting fireworks or something???) :-P

I’m back to weight issues today. For my Sociology of Gender class, I’ve decided to do my final term paper on the discrimination against “fat” women.

It’s amazing what kind of discrimination is out there. It’s amazing what kind of information on this issue is out there. Women are discriminated for being women…then, adding on weight, women are systematically rejected for jobs, ridiculed daily in doctors’ offices, and have to deal with complete idiots who feel that it’s their right to hurl insults.

I’ve come to discover that my weight issues are nothing compared to some women. I don’t think I’ve been discriminated against for being overweight. I also recognize that my weight issues are probably not as extreme as other peoples’.

As I wandered around the web doing research for my paper, I was astounded at the amount of press that weight discrimination actually gets. From NAAFA (National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance) to the Council on Size & Weight Discrimination, there is assistance out there for someone who feels that they are being discriminated.

What alarms me, though, are the sites that promote more discrimination. It seems that JB has nothing better to do with his time than to abuse heavy women. In fact, it seems that he doesn’t even realize that there are heavy men out there, also. No, it’s much easier to beat up on women. They won’t fight back, will they? Or will they?

Marianne M. Jennings seems to have fat issues. She writes about eating lowfat, bypassing fatty foods, and attacking “fat women.” What I really think is that she may be jealous that she hasn’t eaten french fries since the early 90s. However, that’s her choice.

Is it ok to discriminate against fat women? Is that the last frontier of discrimination where everyone looks past it and thinks “well, they are fat and it is disgusting?” Do we think that everyone can control their weight? Do we understand that genetics can play a part in this and sometimes you or I don’t have a choice in how large our hips are or what size of thighs we get?

People can spew forth venomous hatred towards people they don’t even know…but do they really understand?