And open letter to those obsessed with skinny.

Dear World's View of Beautiful:

I have a few things to say. Some you may agree with, but a lot I know you won't get or understand. I'm all for the right to speak your mind..but listen, but a "No Fat Chicks" window decal the size of a basketball on your truck is a step too far. I've yet to see a "No Assholes With Complexes" sticker on anyone else's. I'm sick to death of the term "pretty" being categorized as "small" or "physically fit" and that it cannot exist outside of those superficial, subjective, and demanding aspects. I'm sick of the commentary of how "pretty" someone is based on how tight the jeans fit, or how flat the stomach is. I'm sick of a lot of things, Society. And today's your lucky day, because you're about to hear about them all.

Let's start with the subjective term of pretty. You ask a girl what is pretty and she'll give you a answer that typically sounds like the most non-descriptive, vague line of bullshit you've ever heard. Why? Because we are conditioned to think that what OTHER people think "pretty" is is what really matters, NOT what we think it is. We are conditioned to believe that beauty is changing yourself in ways that we call "bettering", and that it's limited to how dedicated you are, or how persistent in a lot of cases, to being what is accepted and admired by everyone else. You'll find a lot of women who'll say that they don't care what other people think about what they look like; that they love themselves and that's all that matters. But let's get real, ladies...we want other people to love us too. And in most cases, we find little things that "please" them and go with it. Maybe your boyfriend likes your hair long, so you keep it longer. Tell yourself you like it too. It's all a blurry line when it comes to acceptance, of yourself and of others. The limitations are so very easily crossed that we never really stop to wonder..why aren't I able to be comfortable and do as I please without fear of myself or others?

Women are not alone in the inability to truly define the word "pretty", because most guys have no clear picture on it either. They view the status quo as whatever is pretty this month. Maybe it's blondes with fake boobs, maybe it's thin girls with no boobs. But what I will say is that men, UNLIKE women, don't let themselves be cultivated for harvesting of their self-esteem. They aren't in need of other men's acceptance. They rarely even think about what other men might think of them (unless they are gay and that's the genre they are looking for acceptance from), and you might wonder why that is. I know I did. The truth is simple, they accept themselves as whatever they want to be. Want to look like a pro wrestler? Then that's what they aim for. Want to look like Drew Carey in his early years? No problem, they'll work towards it. But us ladies, we are ever-changing ourselves for acceptance. We can't pick one field and stick in it, we move with the seasons, if not the months themselves.

But I digress, because it's not necessarily about who or what you want to be and how you go about getting to it, it's about WHY you want to be that person, and that is genderless. Men, women, children, we all strive for wanting someone else to want us. Remarkably, we will do damn near anything to get that notice, women will diet until they fall apart emotionally, mentally, or in many cases physically. Men will posture and kill themselves to provide what they think women want of them. Here's the problem with all that nonsense, absolutely NO ONE is really honest anymore.

Back to my friend with the "No Fat Chicks" sticker..what's your issue? Are you short and feel like you're already at the end of the "handsome" in this case pile because women view you as some little boy? Or are you the stereotypical buffed out masculine marble-cut man that attracts women who are desperate to be noticed by other women, and in some cases, by other men? Or are you just the average joe, who isn't seen unless he makes a huge statement (like the window decal) because you're forgettable, and invisible to the rest of the world. Truly, whatever your issues are the fact is clear, if you feel the need to bash someones "pretty" nature be them skinny girls or big girls, you have a deep issue within yourself to work out. And while the gorgeous size nine blonde is in your lap, you think about what she'll think of you once YOUR clothes are off. Maybe you'll be less interested in attacking someone who could actually relate to your obvious imperfections.

Admittedly, we are all guilty in some way of "liking" someone else because of a superficial reason. Just as easily said, we are guilty of obtaining praise through attempts to be noticed when we lose weight, change our hair color, dress in a specific way, etc. It's human nature to want to be noticed and admired. It's in our genes for the rest of the world to be interested in us, and even more so now as a great majority have set themselves aside and we slide into our own micro-worlds where no one else exists. Personally speaking, I think we do this because we are afraid of the rejection that so many still have locked and loaded, ready to shoot our way. I know I am.

In other rants I've called to women (and men) to stand up for themselves and break the mold that is "common", to not disregard each other based on dress size or pant size, that big girls are pretty too. But this isn't a statement that needs support; we all know it's true whether we admit to it outwardly or not. This is a rant about acceptance. About learning to see those people with window clings, and diverted eyes in grocery stores or restaurants, and making it clear to ourselves if only internally, that we are truly not responsible for the acceptance of someone who cannot accept the rest of the world. We are not responsible for being held to someone else's pretty standards, because in all actuality they too have no idea what it really means.

..and as a closing thought I offer you this people who don't like bigger girls, when you get exhausted from wishing someone would accept and love you for who you are and what you are, be it heavy or thin, and when you are tired of being on display for someone else, or constantly wondering if they are on display elsewhere instead..remember that truly seeing someone means you understand them, and no one..NO ONE understands rejection and hurt more than the bigger girls.

What are you looking at?

We're all guilty of it.
We've all watched other people do it.
Not many of us have actually realized we're doing it.

Judgement. Perhaps the hardest word in the human language to say without shame. It's the nature of us however, to look at a situation and decide on it's facts (and sometimes without them) the conclusion of it; be it negative or positive. The old saying of "quick to cast judgement" is growing truer by the day as we as a society go from the general "nudgings" of our peers and friends, amplified by the need to fit in and be accepted ourselves, to basing and entire opinion of someone or something on a flash of a moment. We don't need the encouragement of our fellow man or woman..we make the decision, the judgement, based on our impressions and ours alone.

Like I said, we've all been guilty of doing it more than once. You're standing in a store and someone is standing behind you. Maybe they are dressed in a way that would make you fearful or at the least, leery of what they would need to be so close to you before. Do you move forward a little, hope that the step away was a clear statement of "back off you asshole" or do you turn around and face the stranger with a comment about your personal space? Maybe you say nothing. In your mind you wonder to what the intentions might be, but you stay still..you wait. And..you judge. The stranger could do nothing more than put his bag of dog food on the conveyor belt of the grocery store lane, but as you walk out with your half gallon of milk and box of corn flakes you glance over your shoulder at him. In your eyes is all the words that need to be said; I don't trust you. We never take into consideration how impactful that gaze is. We don't truly care, as soon as we are in the safety of our cars, our friends, even our homes, we don't give it another passing thought.

My brother has a lot of tattoos. It's not uncommon, hell it's probably MORE uncommon not to have them these days. However, he can walk into any store or restaurant at any time and the looks are immediate. They say "is he a convict" or "is he safe", some say "I'm afraid", and others say "what should I do"..but the majority just stare. As if the gaze they are casting isn't clear enough to him, and should he be so bold as the smile or nod, the eyes are shifted away and a sense of unease can be felt by anyone. It's not necessarily shame in the eyes of those people, it's embarrassment that they were caught. Caught in the middle of judging him.

He's a smart man, with a GPA in college that would shock all of them into silence, but he's never given the chance to show his intelligence, nor his compassion which is deep and unfailingly chivalrous in nature. No one takes a moment to notice the way he opens the door for the older woman who was behind him before he walked in. No one saw that he smiled at the man in the wheel chair who glanced up as he passed. Of course not..they were busy.

So we've become the people who can tell everything about a person in a half-minute sum up. We can see the goodness or the evil in everything they do. They are no more complex than a flower we pick up and think is pretty because of it's colors; never mind it being poisonous. It's become the faults of those judged now, that they being able to express themselves with tattooing, different colored hair, even a different accent, they should change; not us. They should wear black if they don't want to be looked at as "goth" or "devil worshippers"..they should tattoo themselves if they don't want to be criminals, they shouldn't be here because they are black or latino if they don't want to be stared at. How compassionate of US. The thin line gets so narrow it becomes discrimination, yet we walk it often..and carelessly.

So where's the flip-side of this coin, Oceanna? What about us who were too kind to the "wrong" person, or too dismissive of that stranger in line behind us and were robbed, beaten, raped, or threatened for our naivety? I say it's not caution I advise against; we are not a world of kindness and love as many would hope. We are a rough and tumble group, with a heavy mix of dangerous fellas and girls who would rather hurt many of us than look at us. Being careful was never the problem, my friends. Where's the line then..where's the line between being judgemental and being cautious? Wouldn't we be judging someone even if we are cautious? Who's to say that my version of careful isn't sizing up the man behind me in line to make sure he doesn't follow me to my car and do terrible things to me? It's as thin as the discrimination line is, the boundary between the two. And it's not as distinguishable either, so don't think you'll always be on it and not sliding into the judgement side of the equation. But the first step is attempt..it's being watchful without being cruel, there is no need to stare for a period of time at someone. There is also the point of literally giving the option for goodness in them; sure they might not be, but what if they are? Are you willing to accept that because they don't look like you do that they might be and even better person than you are? If you can't say you know them, what makes you think they are all that you fear?

This is NOT an easy question to understand. It'll never be as long as we live in a place that acts as it's own reflection; what I am is what you should be. When we become a people that look at each other with interest and at the very least acceptance, we'll understand what it means to be non-judgemental. In the meantime, don't let your eye fool you. Not everything is so easily accessed..how would you feel if someone thought the worst of you?


"We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people."
--Martin Luther King Jr.

The Friendship Highway

Who hasn't heard the saying, "Friendship is a two way street" at least a hundred times? But equally, who has experienced that it's not always a well paved street, without huge pot-holes, broken street signs, and the occasional down power line? The implication that you give as well as you receive is ideal, but sadly, rarely true.

Let's take a walk down this two way street and see what it really consists of. First, there's the initial on-ramp to what we'll call the Friendship Highway. It's the point in which you meet someone you have something in common with, discovered through a general conversation or introduction by another friend. It's a precarious beginning, neither party are entirely sure where the other has been, and just like getting onto a freeway, you're hyper-aware of what's around you as you merge. So now that you're on the road, what happens next? It's time to accelerate. You start by hanging out or having longer conversations with the other person, potentially finding more in common, sharing a little personal insight of your life, and moving forward to getting to understand the basics of the other person. It's a careful step, but far less dangerous than the merge, because now you're on the road and it's up to you if you want to stomp on the gas or coast for a little bit. There of course off ramps on Friendship Highway, the More-Than-A-Friend exit is often first. The thought of a romantic relationship and a detour off the Highway and onto another completely different Interstate. It's hard to find Friendship Highway after you take this exit; sometimes impossible. Other exits like Argument Avenue, Hurt Feelings Circle, or the Lonely Loop are sometimes visited as well, but unlike the Interstate, finding your way back is easy. It's as simple as a U-Turn at Apology Court.

The problem with the Highway is that often it becomes a one-way road. A road that appears out of nowhere in some cases or eases off the Highway and into said-road with plenty of notice. It's the choice then to either pull over and stop driving, or continue down the road to see if we ever find the Highway again. It's not often you do. In fact, it's probably easier to find the way back from the Interstate of Love than it is to reconnect to the two-way Highway.

Metaphors aside, what do we expect in a friendship, what do we prize higher than anything else? Is it loyalty? Truth? Bluntness? Appreciation? Is it all the above? One of the more common things would be patience, because we as a people have very little of it for people we don't know, and even less for people we do. We expect a lot of our friends sometimes, to know or understand us without question, even to bail us out of a bad decision or bad situation. Is it too much to ask, that someone you've known know you in return? I myself have found many instances when it apparently has been. Who hasn't had a friend who's let them down by not being there for them when it truly counted? Disappointment is a requirement of friendship, but disappearance of foundation isn't. Counting on people takes vulnerability, and just as you might count on your friend you should expect the same in return.

What's brought this on, you might say. This isn't a normal "rant" by your rant-standards, Oceanna! What the hell is going on with you? It's been recently that I've seen both sides of the coin of friendship. Since the beginning of this year I've had the pleasure (as well as frustration) to have a front row seat in both the creation of a new friendship, the dissolution of a "trusted" one, as well as the growth of many of my others. "Knowing who your friends are" is a far easier said than done, but with that knowledge you must allow yourself to see what you're searching out for friends. In our subconscious we make decisions that we never know about, we often connect with people who stimulate a feeling or need in ourselves all the while wondering why we attract this kind of folks. There's a few types, the basics:

--The Fixer: This is someone who loves to "fix" people, make the world a better place, and who more often than not likes to eat shit sandwiches that are handed to them by the Users (see below).

--The Lazy Ass: This is someone who befriends quickly with little to no requirements on the friendship. They equally require little to nothing in return. Sometimes called the "easy going friend" this can sometimes result in a lot of silent misunderstandings because they are incapable of communication that requires effort.

--The User: One of the worst sorts, this person will take you for everything and anything you'll give (sometimes even unwillingly in worst scenarios) and can drain you dry emotionally faster than a dog bowl at dinner time. They especially have a taste for the Fixer, as they are often easy targets.

--The Sunshiner: This is the friend who is perpetually trying to provide you with up-beat thoughts and impressions. Know that the Sunshiner is usually terribly sad when alone, and the cover-up as elaborate as it is, is not hard to see through. It might appear at first like this person is the nicest soul alive, but when you need to commiserate with a situation that is not fixable nor positive, the Sunshiner will make you wish you had a bat and could use their head for practice. The Sunshiner and the Fixer are often spotted together.

--The Fighter: This is the friend who wants you at their side to attack the next victim/problem they deem necessary. The Fighter is complicated, because sometimes it's a relief to see them take over and almost become the Fixer in a way (a very angry way, but still..) but it's just as bad as the Sunshiner..dare you have anything that doesn't require bloodletting in anyway, the Fighter will stare you down like the next opponent.

Make no mistake having just ONE of the above is what you should watch out for..most people are a little of one or two combined. But it's those who are so completely settled in one particular type that lead to problems later. We sometimes choose fruit, clothes, even what gas station we use to fill our cars up, with more care than who we pull close to us in our lives, who we trust, and who we lean on when we need someone.

The Highway is a long one, but it's important to make sure you're not on the one-way road..sometimes they can look eerily similar.

Where in the hell do you think you are?

In the last few years, I've had the fortunate chance to experience a different side of life. I consider myself exceptionally lucky, and haven't ever taken a moment of each experience for granted. Living "hand to mouth" as 99% of us all do hasn't left my mind, and while the experiences I've been granted have been grander, more glamorous, even extravagant in some cases, remembering where it was you were not too long ago doesn't go away. In saying that, I truly believe you appreciate everything you do have just a little bit more than you would have otherwise. And in continuation of that, you are just a tiny bit more protective of it as well.

I'll explain, settle down.

My partner and I enjoy living our lives together. In that enjoyment, we are both appreciators of good/great foods. We have specific restaurants we try to visit regularly in some cases monthly, in others, weekly. Whether it's a $32.00 dinner or a $145.00 one, there are specific expectations that should go in accordance to *anyone* who wants to peel off the hard earned cash for an evening out. I do not visit Chuck E. Cheese, I steer clear of restaurants that specifically cater to children or advertise themselves as a "family" atmosphere unless I have children with me. Personally, the lack of disciplinary duties (see prior rant) that a good portion of parents these days employ cause me to not only loose my patience, but my appetite as well. Of course, there are those nights that we wander into Sweet Tomatoes (for those who aren't familiar, it's a vegetarian-esk restaurant that specializes in salads and soups) and find that it's populated by families and kids. We don't leave. Why? Because we expect that in a restaurant that is buffet-style, that advertises as a "yummy" version for the wanna-be vegetarians. It's cost per plate is about $9.00 which I'm sure also rings nicely when you're looking to feed a family of four.

There are general expectations, let's cover those first:

1: When you go to a restaurant, you should understand how much it will cost for you to eat there. Do not hold up a line (if it's a buffet), or cause a proverbial traffic jam at the register (at a Denny's, etc.) to argue a charge on your bill. You know what you ordered. You should know how much it cost. And if the ticket is wrong, take a moment (half a minute?) to look it over and contact your waitress for explanation. Don't make the rest of us watch as you debate the fifty nine cent difference you weren't expecting on little Johnny's egg platter.

2: Do not bring your children if they cannot sit still for the length of time it takes for you to eat. If you're a fast eater, or if your children are self-aware and have something quiet to occupy themselves with, no problem. If you want to sit with someone else and debate the national deficit issue for two hours, the four year old next to you will decide to entertain himself/herself by annoying the rest of us.

3: It is unacceptable to burp, pass gas, use loud curse words, or throw-down with anyone at your table. No matter how much you may "not care" try to remember that the rest of us don't really care about you, either.

These shouldn't be that tough to abide by, right? I'm betting that of those three you can name at least one you've had the unfortunate duty to witness at a restaurant recently.

It doesn't require etiquette lessons to visit a fine restaurant, but common sense is a must. Having a touch of self respect also helps. There are places in this world that provide a service, as well as a delicious meal, to it's clientele. That service is called "class." Let's investigate this a little, I'll use my traditional approach; an example.

We were at a rather expensive steak house recently, the restaurant was advertised as a five-star venue, it's menu (complete with prices) is visible *before* you enter the restaurant, and it's renowned for it's dark, elegant, dining atmosphere. We decided to give it a try, both of us dressed as expected for such a dinner (meaning, we did not wear jeans and a tee-shirt, neither of us donned tennis shoes, etc.) and as anyone would expect, imagined that the experience would be fantastic, romantic, and elegant. When we walked in, we noticed the posted sign on the maitre d's stand that read: "Gentlemen: No hats or caps should be worn inside the restaurant, and shirts must have sleeves." My first thought was how redundant such a statement was, I mean this was a very expensive restaurant in a very elegant setting, who in the world would need to be reminded of something so simple as "take off the goddamned Yankee's cap you jerkoff"? Apparently they needed a larger sign.

We noticed first that the bartender who was several yards away from us (approximately 150 feet) was in a very loud, very obnoxious conversation with a man at the bar about the Olympics. His voice boomed, the patron's ruckus laughter was equally loud, and it continued for the length of our dinner. The second thing was that about 40% of the other diners (i.e., this was a reservations preferred listing, keep that in mind) were in not only casual attire, but sweatshirt jackets, sagging jeans, flannel shirts, and the most interesting of all, ball caps. The server was professional, took our orders, and showed an aire of decree that made me wonder if she was simply blind or just attempting to ignore the others. As our dinner concluded (the meal was exceptionally wonderful), we noticed that a family of five had arrived to sit behind us at a table. They had two younger-than-six year olds with them. Both were loud (as children at that age would be), and I silently wondered how a petite Filet Mignon oscar style would appeal to a child at that age because this was *not* (repeat: NOT) a child's-menu restaurant.

So with that said, let's go over the basics of being in a more exclusive restaurant:

1: Do not wear anything that can be seen through any fast food restaurant window. Period.

2: Do not ask for a 9-way check split. This isn't TGI friday's.

3: The wine list is not a "tiny menu" that you can play "duelling menu's" with at the table. Try being older than your shoe size.

4: No one wants to hear about your recent conquest with your girlfriend. Shut the hell up.

5: This is an expensive & elegant restaurant, picking your teeth, leaning back and balancing on the back legs of your chair, rubbing your hair with your palm and burping/belching/popping your neck or other body parts, slapping the table at anything, and most assuredly telling the server that you "don't need a glass" because your beer "comes in it's own", belong elsewhere. When you want to act like you belong in Alabama, try heading to the food court at your nearest Wal-Mart.

In addition to these fundamental rules of behavior in a "more than $5.99 special" restaurant, let's be sure to incorporate that at no time, under no circumstances, do you bring your kids. If you cannot eat without them, then eat somewhere they can as well. Do not subject the diners who are willing to pay for the atmosphere as well as the menu to your lack of forethought, also do not assume that your "perfect little boy" will act like a 40 year old man simply because of where you are.

As I said earlier, I've been blessed with being able to experience a more refined side of restaurant dining in the last few years. I wish that I'd had the opportunity to do so earlier on, but I'm thankful that I at least have had the chance to understand and have the common sense that says I appreciate this...what I do not appreciate is having it ruined by someone who cannot comprehend why they don't have high chairs when the restaurant serves escargot.

English As A First Language

For about a month I've been debating on writing this rant, which for anyone who follows my tyraids will tell you, is extremely rare. I pride myself on writing what others are afraid to say, so that alone you can privately nod your head in agreement and feel less alone about the atrocities that seem to be considered too poor a conversation topic to address. It's difficult for me to think in terms of "political" or social correctness, my behavior might be deplorable by verbal standards to some but you can be assured that there are more people that are silent supporters than there are critics and ney-sayers.

With that said, I came to the conclusion that to hold true to the ideal of speaking what is unspeakable, I'd write it out. I'm not going to apologize, I thought about it, but in the end what would I be apologizing for? For acknowledging what we are all feeling? For having the fearlessness to say it without feeling guilty afterwards? Let's get on with it.

How many of us have had the undeniable pleasure of being serviced in a restaurant, a bank, a shopping center, over the phone or in person, by someone who cannot speak English? It's not about those that *can* and *do* speak the common tongue, it's about the many that just flat out refuse to. I've heard so many arguments about this that I could quote them back to you, the most popular being "this is America! Speak American!" which let's just call it what it is, a ridiculously uneducated statement. We don't speak proper English anymore, the lazy tongue that we all have, but we also can't commit to calling our slang "American" either. The issue isn't the title of language, but the lack of understanding and lending yourself to the environment you live within.

Let me begin my stating that aside from going to Mexico, I've never been outside the "country" as in to Europe or the Asia Continents. But I can assure you that should I ever find myself such a grand opportunity that I would not simply "assume" that I could walk up to a kiosk or a waiter and say "Can I please have a table for two", or "How much is this please?" and have them understand me. I could hope, but in truth other countries are far less appealed to lending themselves to our comfort levels. It's a fact that in some instances countries where you do not speak the native tongue will single you out and treat you differently for it. Do we do that here to foreign travelers or those who have chosen to live here? I'm sure we do.

But the difference, small as it might be, is the catering that we do to other cultures "inability" or lack of desire to speak *our* native tongue. I'm not a big patriot, I don't wear a flag on my jacket, wave one in my yard, or join in with such bullshit as this current war we have stuck ourselves in. But I am a believer that we as a country should have some requirement, some basic regulations, that insist that English be the primary language required in all service related jobs. I shouldn't have to press "1" for English, I shouldn't be subjected to send my child to school where two translators stand in the back of the room and speak Mandarin or Spanish to the students who cannot understand.

I realize how this could come across as a racial remark, and I assure you I am of no mindset that would include such an assumption. The truth is I want our country to treat it citizens like any other country would; with the implication that operating within it's confides requires you to understand, be able to preform, within the reasonable boundaries of its society. I appreciate the mixed population we possess, and I have dozens of friends who have migrated here from various countries to find the all-popular "American Dream" but all of which understand that speaking English isn't an option; but instead, a necessity.

"Broken English", or slight corrections in word choice (as I understand it, the most difficult part of learning) are attempts. Attempts that say to us that the effort is present. And effort is what we should all be making; an effort to understand, and an equal effort to present yourself in the way in which is understood by the many; not by the few.

I know you're saying right now "but Oceanna..you're talking about CONFORMITY!" and I say no sir, I am not. I am talking about accepting your environment and not forcing the environment to accept you. I'm not asking that our ESL citizens blend in, I'm asking that they provide a consideration. A consideration that we are not asked as kindly to make outside the country.

Overall, we are a country that allows it's citizens to decide the fate and future of itself. We are the people that set the standard, that ask it's people to pay taxes, to provide decency in families so that children are not molested or abused. And it's no argument that we fail in both those areas more times than we can admit. But we still try. We still persevere to obtain success in those, as well as many other demands we have set for ourselves. It is a true blessing that we allow such multi-cultural exchanges to exist..but they should be voluntary. Not mandatory.

Just Like Everyone Else

"58 Million Overweight; 40 Million Obese; 3 Million morbidly Obese", according to the CDC Statistics for the United States. For the record, the calculation of obesity is based on a BMI (Body Mass Index) of 30% or higher (meaning you are about thirty-forty pounds overweight). Morbidly Obese is a 40% or high BMI (forty-fifty pounds overweight approximately). The statistical average for overweight are people with about fifteen to twenty pounds to loose, but are active in doing so (gym, diets, etc.)

I thought a little statistical lay out would help put things in perspective for us, because as we all know the CDC is the national go-to people when it comes to us laying out the requirements for children (Presidential Fitness Testing is mandatory to pass in High School and Junior High School in America, and is based on CDC weight loss and BMI calculations and statistical analysis) as well as our health insurance, general treatment by our physicians, and of course, how the country itself will look upon us. That, people, is our first focus. If you're even in the overweight category, walking into a store like Target or even Wal-Mart can be daunting if you are headed to the clothing aisles. The limitations placed on us by the marketing reps for these companies (and many others, but I'll hit those up momentarily) never cease to amaze me. Try a little experiment if you disagree with me, walk into a "general store" (Wal-Mart, Target, Fred Meyer, etc) where they have a small, but decent clothing section. Go towards the largest of your sex's clothing area. Randomly (and let's make sure it's fair, close your eyes and just take the first thing your hand lands on) pick up an article of clothing. Look at the size. Is it your size? Is it even CLOSE to your size? Most of you will say it isn't, I guarantee it. For us women, it'll be a five, or nine, potentially a twelve. For men it'll be a medium, maybe a large. For a society with stats like the above, it sure it hard to cover ourselves up, isn't it?

This rant isn't limited to women or men; in truth, we both have the same problem. It's not just women who are overweight, is it? And while there *is* a debate that clothing men is easier than clothing women (in terms of locating things that fit correctly), I'm not going down that road. No, we'll be equal today. Because in all honesty, we are all being equally discriminated against. So what about the other stores, the Macy's, Sears, J.C Penney's, Kohls, etc. They must be easier to locate sizes above the considered "norm" since they specialize *in* clothing right? You'd be wrong to think so, because despite having a broader spectrum of attire (and arguably better quality in many cases), you'll have generally the same situation. A small, if not insulting, section located in the far reaches of the store with a few random items that have been deemed the unimaginable, the abysmal, "Plus Size" section. You'll find the same thing in the men's department, although they've given up naming the sizes above a 40 or Large to simply the oh-so-creative, "Big & Tall". In essence, for a man, you must be both to buy clothing. It's a sin for you to be simply one or the other. In our sections of disregard, we have the same general selections despite the season or the occasion. Here are a few of the items you can count on being present:

--Elastic waist cotton pants
--Tee shirts (solid colored, rarely patterned)
--Polo shirts (same as tee's)
--Jogging/work out clothing (sweat pants, drawstring pajama style pants, hooded sweat shirts, etc.)

The slight differences in our departments would be that in the "Plus Size" realm you have skirts that are knee length or longer (also traditionally elastic waisted), the occasional button down shirt (solid colored or designed with something akin to large plastic gemstones), and of course, jeans (90% of the time any size higher than a 20w is impossible to find, and many also contain the fat-woman's friend apparently, elastic waists). In the "Big & Tall" kingdom, you'll see the cotton chino-style pants (welcome back elastic! We missed you!), the button down camp-style shirts (mostly short sleeved, because apparently fatness is warm), and oddly enough, shorts. Yes, shorts in that department of the men's clothing can be found year around. Basket ball style shorts, the famed chino-style, draw string, etc. Jeans? You'd have more luck in the women's departments guys, sorry.

So if you can't find clothes in the department stores or the general stores, where do you go? You go to the speciality stores, that's where! Where the sizes are more commonly easier to find, the styling a little bit more broad and trendy, and where you can be sure that asking for a bigger size won't end you up in something that could double for a moo-moo for us ladies, or sweat pants for you guys. This fabled place where we can feel like humans again and like potentially we can look appealing, pretty (handsome), or at the very least comfortable. But settle down, because once you see the price tag you may need a defibrillator to bring you back around. These stores know that they are limited in numbers, and that we (the 50 million or so), are dependent on them to bring us a little of the respect that other, considered beautiful and worthy, individuals get regularly. They are so "in the know" about it, that charging fifty dollars for a tee shirt doesn't make them squirm with embarrassment. Or watching the economy stricken customers they have wince, as they shell out a hundred and twenty dollars for a pair of jeans (the kind where elastic isn't the main material). They use the fact that no one else is stepping up to the plate, and if we don't like the cost, well my friend you can just waddle it on down to the Sears across the parking lot and yank up a pair of those lovely elastic waist little numbers and head on home.

Our choice is to wear what we can afford and feel even lesser about ourselves then we are conditioned by television, radio, even strangers to feel. Or, we can sell a kidney, put ourselves in debt, and be extra careful with the washing of anything we own and buy the clothing choices that allow us the minimum ability to "blend in" with the people around us. The Lane Bryant's, Avenues, Casual Male XL's, they know we are so limited, and still so very human in our need to be accepted and admired, that the price tags can say anything, no matter how outrageous, and we'll try won't we...we'll try to fill in the need with the cash, and walk out of the store holding our bags and mentally telling ourselves that it was a "necessity" and what choice did we have. Sadly, both justifications are true. And sadder still, often result in us returning to buy more from that same place.

With a society so apparently overwrought with overweight tenancies and the obesity rate as high as it is, you'd want to argue that more designers, more stores, more ease would come (and come soon) for us wouldn't you? That general stores would find themselves losing money on the clothing they did carry, and that places like Kohl's or Sears would scratch their heads and consider expanding the larger size sections and including fashionable, acceptable, clothing for the customers. But you'd be holding your breath for a long, long time because in truth regardless of how much we'll spend to look "normal" we are the people that are overlooked and glanced over. It's the people we see on television, the actresses and actors in movies, the styles that get the attention of the few that can wear it that they see. A loss for them? Absolutely. A bigger loss for us? Unfortunately.

I'm going to take a moment to say something to the catering stores that allow us to shop there as they financially devastate us: I am fat; not stupid. I am aware that flowered, large, brilliantly colored outfits might look fashion-forward of the size small and mediums of the world. I'm equally aware that I look like a circus tent when I put them on. Also, flared jeans do NOT make you "appear more balanced in the waist and hips" for women. They make you look like your ankles are as big as your ass, and there is no need to draw MORE attention to your ass. Please stop carrying "low rise" jeans in sizes above a sixteen. They don't look great on women who can wear them, so shoving our heaviness into pants that are made to "hang" on the hips do nothing more than make us appear as an overstuffed muffin. Gentlemen, stand up for yourselves with the goddamned hawaiian shirts please. Just because you were a 3x or higher doesn't mean you are on vacation in the Bahamas all year long. Putting drink glasses and fruit or large St. Bernard's do NOT make it more "festive", it just makes you look like you wear black socks with shorts (and if you do, please knock that the hell off too). Stand up for yourselves against the insane theory that you must be seven foot tall to wear a size 48 in pants. That a 48" waist man cannot by any means find a pair of 30" inseam jeans is a goddamned criminal act.

We are people too. Yes, we maybe bigger than others, we might look like Kate Blanchett or Brad Pitt, we may need a few additional inches here and there. But we want the same things you do. We want to be pretty, or handsome, we want to be appreciated and admired for our taste. Instead of dressing us like targets so people know we are unworthy of the above, instead of making us poorer and more depressed, instead of focusing on trends and not what actually *looks* good, and instead of making every single one of us understand that we are NOT your priority, NOT your favorite client or customer, and NOT your problem...try to see that we are the majority now. And in the future, will push out the size twos and mediums into the minority. We are power executives, we are great mothers and fathers, we are good citizens, tax payers, law abiders, neighbors. And we will, by God, been seen as equal to the rest that hold us down because we are different.

In closing, I want to tell you about something that happened to me. I was twelve years old, in Junior High School, and my P.E. class required us to "purchase" gym uniforms. The uniforms were shorts (a terrible golden rod color), and a dual sided tee shirt in black and the same godforsaken golden rod color on the opposite side. The shorts and shirt were a requirement, and you'd get "points" taken off if you arrived on the tarmac for class out of uniform. Too many points removed, no matter how great you did in the class, you'd never pass it. The uniform shirts came in size s-xl. The shorts, the same. XL was the equivalent to a woman's size 14, and the boys XL was around a 34" waist. The shorts were very short, traditional gym shorts (or often called running shorts), and had an inseam of about three inches or so. My parents, having no choice, gave me the money to purchase these items in the student store. I bought both in XL, being twelve and not fully grasping the idea that one XL doesn't mean another will fit simply because it says its the same size. I went into gym that day, my shorts and shirt under my arm, and began to dress. The shirt fit, a little snug over my (smaller than now, however, lol) belly, but the shorts..the shorts I couldn't get up past my thighs. I struggled for a good ten, fifteen minutes in the dressing room until most of the girls had left and I was in there alone. I looked at the tag, even knowing I had gotten the right size, and it confirmed it was an XL. There were no sizes bigger. The low that I felt, the embarrassment that steadily creeped in as I slid my pants back on and slowly made my way back out into the tarmac was unbelievable. The teacher wrote my demerit down, and after class was over I told her I had bought the uniform, that the shorts were in my locker but they hadn't fit even though I bought the XL. She looked me, straight in the eye, and said "well then..looks like you need to loose some weight if you want to pass this class."

As it ended up, I wore the sweat pants that were part of the uniform, snugly like the shirt, for the remaining year even in the heat. But that feeling, that feeling of not being good enough to fit in with the rest of the class, the feeling of knowing that I was the only little girl out there in August, sweating profusely as I tried to run laps, that stayed with me. And even as I look back on it now, wondering how many other girls or boys had that same problem, how many sat in the locker rooms holding those shorts and willing themselves NOT to cry because they felt too ugly, too terrible, to be treated just like everyone else.

Parenting Classes for the Asses

..I debated for almost three days on what to name this rant. At first, hard as it might be to believe, I was actually trying to figure out a way to say what I felt without offending the dozen plus friends of mine who are parents. Around day two I decided that if they've been friends with me this long, chances are, I've probably already pissed them off once or twice. The title stuck.

The fact is the good parents are often overlooked, taken for granted, or just generally ignored. It's the ones that I'll be addressing here today that typically get all the attention. So before I begin this dangerous treading I'm about to do, let me preface with if you think this is about you, or that I hate your kids, then you'll need to stop reading at this moment. I can't control what you think from this point on, so just go ahead, I won't be offended, click the back button and go about your day. Skip this rant, and I'm sure years to come you'll be glad you did.

Now, if you're still here then you obviously have understood the need for someone to finally say something about out of control children, bad disciplinary tactics, and all above just stupid parenting. I promise, you won't be disappointed. Ready? Let's get started..

When I was a kid (as with many of you reading this), our generation didn't accept specific behaviors in public as well as in private. But let's focus on the public portion for this topic, because what and how parents manage children behind the front doors I'm least concerned with. It's when it effects me, and my life, that I start to raise that proverbial hand to comment. I'll say the obvious, I'm not a parent. Nor will I ever be. It's my choice, and a choice I made a long time ago for what I can say now, must have been psychic intuition. It's true, my patience can be low at times, and it's common knowledge I am protective about my belongings and material possessions. Neither factor, very kid friendly. I applaud those of you who have decided to have children, but I wonder sometimes if that decision was made or just accepted. You'll understand what I mean in a moment.

About a week ago, I ventured into a salad buffet restaurant. It's important for me to say I'm using this one instance as a mark on all the PRIOR instances exact same replicas of this situation have happened; don't think I'm taking one bad moment to base this rant on. You know me better than that, people. So while eating, I saw that the line at the salad bar was getting quite long, and not to mention, quite loud. I glanced behind me to see what the issue happened to be, and noted that around the middle section of the herd, there were about seven children. Between the ages of five and possibly ten, they were yelling, laughing, kicking each other, digging in the salad toppings, and for all purposes just being jackasses. The parents, a younger couple around the early stages of thirty, were all but ignoring them. Piling and concentrating on their own plates, as the line moved steadily down towards the register. Like I said, it was quite a long line at this point, and dotted down were more children, same behavior for the most part. Also, more seemingly exhausted, apathetic, apparently deaf, parents. The woman near my table, eating her salad, was also looking up rather annoyed at the noise. It occurred to me, as cases like this often do, that parenting is a skill..not a pre-existing mannerism employed by birthing something out of your body.

When I was younger, "acting up" as it was called in public was a death sentence. Embarrassing my parents, or generally embarrassing myself was considered reason for conversation, for addressing. And usually that conversation included a spanking, the promise of a spanking, or the "look" that meant that a spanking was coming any second. I'll say, this worked wonders for clearing my mind of any further mischievous actions or need to further the point. I did not argue, I did not continue, I merely noted this in my child's brain, and quickly came to the conclusion that a spanking, no matter what present form it was in, was not on my agenda. To say that I "did what I was told" at all junctions, would be insane. I was a kid, not Mother Teresa. But I did understand that action=consequence, and consequence=bad. Now, if I still chose the continue, even understanding what would come from it, I obtained a certain level of hesitation. Like jumping from a bungee cord, you know chances are you'll be fine, but committing your body to leaping to it's death is a lot harder than you'd think. The same goes for the child's mind..committing to doing something you know will more or less get you in trouble can sometimes lead to a little hesitation, or in other cases, a half-assed attempt.

But the problem is now parents are unable, unwilling, unskilled enough to know how to handle their kids in public. Some blame society, saying that it's become socially unacceptable to spank, handle, or use any force on your child in public for fear of retribution from others in the form of child endangerment or child abuse. I can't directly argue with this point, as it has some validity to it. In a lot of instances, the discipline we experienced as kids cannot always be employed these days, which is a failure in our child protective laws. While so focused on keeping kids "safe" from the physical actions of adults, we spend time monitoring what has always until recently, been declared acceptable parenting solutions (i.e., spanking, etc.) and therefore have less time to truly see the children who are not being handled acceptably (i.e., sexual assaults, broken bones, etc.). We've become too caught up in abolishment of all physical discipline to see that there has *always* been a line between the two. And if we cannot trust skilled (supposedly skilled, I should say) people to know and see the line for what it is, then why do we have them in the first place?

Others argue that parents now were treated differently, the rise of the "time out" children has given away to them producing off-spring. Potentially, also correct. In the late eighties, early nineties, the blossom of "new parenting" took place, and everyone was on board with the nature of "talking to your children so they can understand how you feel", and "exploring the option of sitting to think of what they've done alone" instead of the tried and true methods prior. The problem, and one of many, with these actions is that kids haven't developed a sense of adult reasoning. You cannot sit down with a child and explain why Mommy doesn't want to be looked at as the worst mother of the year when you pull down the shelf of candy at the store because I won't buy you one. It's not that simple with children, and in a lot of cases, not even that simple with adults either. Reason and logic don't find hold in children's brains until they can make decisions based on need. And that's not limited to an age (some children advance faster than others), but it's a limit that should be understood by the PARENT. You spend time with your kid, know what he or she is capable of grasping, you should also know what will work in terms of educating your child on behavior needs. I'll say that most kids aren't adapt to understanding those complexities. Most understand my equation above, bad behavior=bad result. And if you think that a "bad result" is sitting your kid down and talking AT them for five, ten, even fifteen minutes, then you yourself need someone to sit down with and figure out what the hell is wrong with you.

None of this is to say that talking to children is useless. It's just not the singular tool it's been made out to be. When I would get in trouble, included in the physical reminder that I was misbehaving, I would also get a short, child-understandable, statement. "You will knock that off or you'll spend the night in your room.", etc. Instead we see parents, like the ones at the salad buffet, literally doing nothing. Why is that? Is it because they don't know *what* to do? Is it because they can't figure out what works with the kid? If either of these are the issue, then seek parenting assistance. It is not the responsibility for the rest of us to face down your screaming kid because you are unsure of how to handle him or her. Where did the parent embarrassment go?

I'll hazard the guess that the whole embarrassment level has decreased because most everyone just pretends that it isn't happening. Whereas years past, a screaming child would get the attention of most everyone around. The eyes would burn into you until you carted that kid out of the room, and took care of the situation so as not to disturb everyone else. I find it interesting we have given over to apparent apathy in this regard. We as a society enjoy our solitude, we aren't "neighborly" as previously, and we don't tend to talk to strangers often. Most are fearful of what or who you could be talking to these days, but even with that need to remain solo and protected within yourself, we don't take a stand to protect ourselves from the onslaught of a kid in full tantrum mode. We don't say anything because that would pop our bubble of solitude. Yet, we are unable to be comfortable because of the action around us. What a vicious circle we dance.

It goes without saying that all of us have experienced these cases, the screaming kid in line at the store, the toddler upset at the table, just as we have experienced the parents that don't even pause in conversation when it happens. The ones that ignore, ignore, ignore and expect us all to do the same. Raising children to see that turning a blind eye to bad action in the world is the only acceptable thing to do. Does anyone take a moment to think that your children will raise children of their own, children who will be raised in the same methods that they themselves experienced? The few of us still around that remember the way it used to be will fade out, and frighteningly be replaced with the new breed of parent, the incompetent one.

In closing I'm going to say that I have had the blessing to see a parent or two from the "olden ways" take control of an out of control kid. I've not seen it enough though. And I'm hoping that if enough of us refuse to accept the behavior of disrespect, that eventually the embarrassment level will return. If you think you can handle little Jeffery or Nicole on your terms, keep in mind that the people who don't think you can, are watching to see how successful you really are.