I don't know what her specific body issues are, but for me with my hyper insulin sensitivity and metabolic syndrome (and a recent blood glucose reading in the pre diabetic stage) it is actually better for me to have olives than and apple, or bacon instead of strawberry yogurt. Bodies are different and weird. What…

So is it the being 35 and choosing not to have a spouse or children or own property and being content in my small studio in urban Seattle with my two cats and a dog make me a Princess Pan? Or is it that I still collect comics and graphic novels, take my nieces to Sakura-con, and enjoy animation? Or perhaps that I…

5’9 and 260.2. And despite being a grotesquely disfigured monster undeserving of love, cute clothes, and pastry I somehow still maintain a decent sized list of men and women who want to date me or sex me regularly. I don’t need that list for validation (though I do take advantage of it from time to time), but it’s…

True story. I’m intensely private about my romantic life when it comes to my family. But I totally share my gal pal adventures. This is fine for all of us. No one in my family ever bothered me at all about getting married or having kids for the longest time. I assumed I was just lucky to have a family that understood…

I grew up in extreme poverty, 1 of three children, and I knew from an early ago that I would never ‘rely on god to take care of it’ as so many of my family members have told me as an adult when asking when I will have children. Sorry, I couldn’t rely on god when I had to shoplift dinner, or panhandle for money with my…

I don't care why the aircraft is hovering, who ordered it to hover, and who is flying it. Pointing lazers, that many, on that scale, at an aircraft hovering over you and a bunch of innocent people is just fucking stupid. Causing a helicoptor to crash into your fellows in arms will do nothing to help your cause other…

I am very fortunate to work in a place that respects my time. We are a healthy mix of married, single, kids/no kids. What it boils down to is that we all have a lot of work to do; you are expected to get your work done in a timely matter, and to be present at important meetings that require your attendance. Otherwise,…

Every damn one of those things would annoy me. Being annoying knows no gender/sex/or sexual boundaries. It sees no color, it hears no accent. It simply is.

I am a fat lady with no children and a disposable income. I like cute clothes. They are hard to find. I don't have an MBA or anything, but given the proportion of fat people in the US, and the percentage of those who are women who like cute clothes and spending money on them, I don't see why more…

My grandma refers to my sassy-ness as proof that I am related to her. We both accept that term, and the term "she has a little bit of larceny in her" as a compliment.

I’m going to vent here. I am not a medical professional, and my guy doesn't do lungs, so this is just my related experience as an admin looking through the window up close and personal. Also, there probably is no actual point to this post, I am not a professional writer, and I have had gin, so apologies for grammar…

I actually started out by writing an aquaintence amusing letters to keep her entertained and give her some support while locked up. The reading materials they have there are pretty much 1980's romance books so I would send her news articles, stuff from Mother Jones, etc. When she got out, the torch was passed to her…

Lindy, you were a favorite on SLOG and at The Stranger, and you are a favorite for me here. I want to be your bff so bad. That being said, I print out and mail everything you write to my Pen Pal at the Orange County Women’s Correctional Facility and she shares them. You have a lot of friends there as well. Much much…

Jeepers. Thanks everyone for commenting. It’s funny because, when my sister and brother and I talk about it, we laugh until we cry at the ridiculousness of how poor we were and how hard we had it. Like it was a lifetime movie. But when I see it written down, Omg it looks so sad. She and my eight grade literature…

Ugh. This was me in 6th grade. We were extremely poor, and my mother was not very capable of mothering (mental illness, drugs). We had water, but it was Icy. And no washing machine or money for it. I bathed in that damned cold water, but I could only hand wash my clothes with cheap bar soap or shampoo with minimal…