Tuesday, November 6, 2007

"You Need To Jump Out of An Airplane" & Other Wack-A-Do Advice from my Younger Sister


The thing in my family is we never tell the truth about anything. We smile... at trips to the hospital, to people's funerals, at awkward moments at the dinner table when certain members of the family are obviously having a nervous breakdown. Pass the cheesecake please!

But my sister and I have this New Pact to tell each other the truth. It started when my cousin died and then when my Mom had her, "bad time" as she likes to call it. (Um... my idea of having a "bad time" involves cramps from my period and not being rushed to an emergency room.) I will one day tell the story of how Me & E (my awesome, fastastically cool younger sister) came up with the idea of the New Pact. But I feel like I'm getting off the topic of MY SECRET FEAR OF FAT GIRL JEANS.

So, in honoring the New Pact where we tell the truth, one day I told E, "I'm depressed, I'm not myself, I'm in some kind of funk." E was quiet for a second, I knew she was coming up with a plan which I knew would be better than my plan of laying in bed WITH OLD "US" MAGAZINES I had stolen from my dentist ("Tori & Dean: Inn Love." Rivetting!) E said, "Here's what you need to do: YOU NEED TO JUMP OUT OF AN AIRPLANE." Now it was my time to be silent as a "You are a moron" bell went off in my head.) She must be talking methaphorically, I thought, that I need more adventure in my life, that I need to face my fears, that I need to do something wild and spontaneous and unpredictable. The airplane must symbolize all that stuff because she can't really be expecting me to jump out of a plane. On a Saturday. When I am laying in bed and have all this important "US" magaqzine reading to do.

"E," I said, "Do you mean... metaphorically jump out of a plane? E signed, clearly frustrated. "No, I meant REALLY JUMP OUT OF A PLANE."

See, this is where we differ, where we don't see eye to eye. I AM NOT JUMPING OUT OF A frickin' PLANE. That was months ago. Just to torture me, my sister sent me photos of her JUMPING OUT OF A PLANE, signed, "Wish you were here."

One day, I will jump out of a plane. It's on my life list. It's a goal. But here's the thing: I can't go from a place where it's too overwhelming for me to shampoo AND condition my hair to a place where I am jumping out of things and possibly PLUMMENTING TO MY DEATH. That is too scary to me. But I can do something else that scares me TODAY and I'm doing it. I'm naming my fear, I'm staring it down AND I'M WRITING IT HERE SO THAT I CAN'T GET OUT OF IT. It's SOMETHING THAT SCARES ME somewhere between the level of seeing an ex-boyfriend at a party with his new hot girlfriend and jumping out of an airplane.

Here it is: I am going shopping for fat girl jeans. That's it. The delusion is over. I'm chunky. You guys know I gave up sweat pants but the truth is, like any TRUE JUNKY, I've been using again. First, it was just cotton pants with a zipper, then it WAS THE HARD STUFF, straight up sweats. With holes... disguised with long t-shirts. I'm so ashamed.

So now, I face the truth. It's not going to be pretty there at the mall. In the big girl section. But I have to do it OR I'll never get truly clean. I'll let you know how it goes. Thank you for letting me share.
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8 comments:

MySizeBarbie said...

Ohhh do I know what you mean about fat girl jeans. Oh do i know. my revelation came to me last year, when I realized that my favorite store no longer carried my jean size. or was it that i no longer FIT into the jeans that my store carried? But anyways, since I am in college, and plenty of people wear sweats, i took it upon myself to give myself a little break, spend $20 on a pair of MSU sweatpants (go spartans!) instead of a $55 dollar pair of jeans PLUS shipping since i can only get my size onLINE now. hurrah. but anyways, fast foreward to the future. I am now a size 17, and i own 2 pairs of jeans. one is a cotton pair, which i refuse to wear because they actually restrict movement, and another is a cotton spandex blend, which shows my buttcrack at every available moment. So now, here i am, sitting at my computer in my sweat pants from american eagle. Trendy? yes. warm? yes. make me look disgusting? double yes. I now have several pairs of sweat pants, only 2 pairs i allow myself to wear in public. and coincidentally they are the only pairs of pants public ever SEES me in. u do the math :'( hehe good to see another blogger! i found u on SELF.com btw :D

Anonymous said...

Jeans are Jeans. Don't label it as fat girl jeans or else you're setting yourself up for failure and you already have enough hurdles to overcome than the ones you're setting up yourself. Say "hey I'm going shopping for some new cute jeans."

Structured_Hippie said...

I just discovered your blog (can't remember where exactly!) and just wanted to let you know I am so glad. You are an excellent writer - entertaining, funny, thoughtful, intelligent, REAL and therefore refreshing. I have no doubt you will pull yourself up and out of your rut beautifully. I'm rooting for you and faithfully reading your blog in the meantime!

Anonymous said...

you have triumphed over the sweatpants! yay! i applaud you for facing your fear of the fat girl jeans. i enjoy the maternity variety myself. and when people notice and ask, i just rub my tummy, wistfully sigh and say "my husband and i are very happy." so what if i'm perpetually single and my last few sexual encounters involved lots of booze and a percosset or two?! they don't know me! needless to say, i feel a connection to your blog and i so enjoy reading. you are pretty inspirational. and your sister sounds very wise, very wise indeed. keep it up!

Anonymous said...
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adventure grrl said...

Dear "So what if i'm perpetually single,"
I think you and I could be best friends. Especially if by "booze" you mean screw top Chardonnay. LOL. Thanks for the comment!

shelley said...

I don't know if your comment about it being hard to shampoo AND condition your hair was just metaphorical or not, but I do know that I seriously considered cutting my long hair short because sometimes I feel like crying at the thought of washing it. And don't even get me STARTED on the thought of shaving my legs every day!!!
shelley

Julia said...

You are hilarious and fabulous, I love this blog! I have spent a lot of time in bed lately -- though I have an excuse. I broke my ankle over 3 months ago and couldn't put any weight on it until last Wednesday, and now I'm only allowed to put 25 lbs on it. So I *should* be in bed. But the truth is, I wouldn't be if I hadn't gained so much weight (again, we blame this on the ankle, but it's really because of all the bagels and cheesecake I've been eating -- in bed!) My jeans are now 3 sizes to small and there's no way I'm going shopping in sweat pants *and* crutches! Anyway, I still have energy to shampoo and condition my hair. So I only brush it a few times a week ... the messy hair look is totally in ... in bed.

Keep writing! Maybe when I can actually walk, I'll start exercising and stop eating cheesecake. I miss my skinny jeans and I'm not yet brave enough to by fat-girl jeans. Kudos to you!