Sneek Peak~~Chapter 1

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Everything at Café Crave is just a little wrong since the new manager took over.  It used to be a quaint, comfortable hangout for Sands, Riyaan, sometimes Cat and me to meet up for our weekly therapy debriefs.

The new manager is turning it into one of those up-scale a la carte cafés where yuppies are seen sporting designer label clothes and latest Gucci handbags.  The walls are now covered with original artwork from local artists, hung crookedly at different angles each time we come in, as though someone keeps trying to get it right but is unable to do it.  It’s hardly a place where a fat lady and her eclectic group of friends, including her very own stinky homeless friend, are welcome.

Riyaan, world’s best gay friend and coffee barrister extraordinaire, catches my eye as the door shuts behind me.  “Large mocacchino?” he calls across the counter.

“Make it a double,” I reply and approach the booth where Sands sits.  Why can’t she remember to get a table?

Booths convey a sense of privacy and intimacy while making it difficult to slide in and out of them, not to mention the table cuts into one’s gut.

Another annoying change to the café is the tables are too close.  The place is never more than a third full, yet they squeeze in the tables as if anticipating of throngs of caffeine addicts.  As a large woman, I am unable to walk through this minefield without bumping into something.  I only ever go there when I have no choice and this was one of those times.  The gang hasn’t met in weeks and Riyaan insisted on meeting here as he was on a break.

“Excuse me, so sorry” I mumble as I bump the arm of a patron and cause her coffee to slosh across her hand.  I hope it doesn’t scald her.  Another patron, chatting loudly on his call phone, grabs his purchase at the cash register and walks toward to the door, except I am blocking his path.  He stops short gives me an obvious “Ew” look, then backtracks and takes the long way around the minefield.  He lowers his voice and snickers something.

I’m almost to the booth.  In my haste to get there, I turn sideways to squeeze between a chair where sits a man with a laptop and a table where a couple, oblivious to the world, makes googly eyes at each other.  “Sorry,” I say as my stomach knocks the man’s head and arm forward.  His hand hits a key and the laptop screen goes blank.

“Shit” he mutters.  So much for hoping whatever it is is backed up or not important.

Meanwhile, my butt pushes the table behind me backward.  “Hey!” the female hisses.  I glance over my shoulder and see coffee spilling over the table.

“I do apologize,” I offer and duck my head in embarrassment.  I’d get out of there but my friends were waiting. Continue reading “Sneek Peak~~Chapter 1”

Religion of Perfection

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Tonight sitting here, in front of a roaring fire- always a sure environment for pensive reflection, I have been taking an honest look at WHY i want to loose weight.The honest truth is that in every respect I have been made to feel like I am not good enough…As a FAT woman, I fall below the mark… My X Husband used to refer to me as a ‘big fat cow sitting on the couch eating chocolate’ to all his mates at work…and wouldn’t touch me sexually or affectionately, for that matter, for months at a time…its a miracle I have two beautiful children really. My parents, took me to a ‘fat’ doctor when I was 9 cause they were concerned about my weight even then.  Continue reading “Religion of Perfection”

Too Fat To Bungy?

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I had the most amazing day today…it started soon after I woke up with a call from an local adventure company offering me a free quad bike ride (a fringe benefit of working, part-time, in a local motel). I had the most fun imaginable speeding over bumps, up hair-curling inclines and through deep and muddy pot holes. As you can see!

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I was all wet and muddy by the end of it but was squealing and laughing all the way through, so much so, that it was unbelievably worth it!
During this I suddenly had an epiphany…moment of madness whatever you classify it and thought to myself…I could do a bungy jump; off this high bridge, Continue reading “Too Fat To Bungy?”

Bus Squish

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I look forward to…

Not having to automatically search for two seats together on a bus…so that I can comfortably fit one butt cheek on either side.

Mirror View

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“Though i may be fat…fat is what I am…not who I am.” I say as I stare at myself in the full length mirror, There is nothing more terrifying for a fat person than a full length mirror.  I do the walk of shame multiple times a day, up and down my passage way, where my full length torment resides.  Up until a little while ago I happily just had a small face mirror in the bathroom but my dearest and well meaning Pa noticed I didn’t have a proper mirror and kindly gave me one he had lying about the house.   He even came around with picture hooks and hammer to hang it for me. What could I do…refuse?

Most days, eyes lowered, I hurry frantically up and down the narrow passage way avoiding the mirror like the plague but try as I may NOT to look sometimes I just can’t help myself….like now…I guess I am a sucker for torment.

“Being fat doesn’t define me its simply extra baggage I happen to be carrying today but it wont (necessarily) be there forever” As convinced as I try to sound to myself as I say it out loud, secretly I am not so sure.  I for one know about the hard work that goes into ‘losing’ the extra baggage well not just a few pieces of baggage a whole cargo hold actually…which is why I emphatically add the word (necessarily).

Standing in front of it I see the HUGE flabby apron that hangs right around my midsection, I see my thunder thighs and all the jello-like cellulite as it glistens and winks at me in the sun…I even see the flabby mass hanging from the bottom of my arms that wobble, wobble, wobble, and the rolls just under my arms that jut out whenever my arms are flush against my body.  Its a mission not get lost in the disgustingness of it all…I mean who wants to look at fat ugly rolls and love handles that nobody actually ‘loves’.  I know i have amazing eyes, a great smile…complete with two cheeky dimples.  I am told I inherited the best physical fiatures from both my parents from my late Polynesian Mothers’ caramel-latte skin colour, her stunning high cheekbones, perfictly oval face and full lips to my Pa’s glittering emerald shaped eyes and  scottish unruly curly hair.