On the street

Today, I spoke with four strangers.

To one, over the phone, I unloaded my entire f-ed up recent personal history and bad feelings. It was a phone interview for a sliding scale therapy clinic, and as far as I understand, I have my first appointment tonight.

To the second, I spoke via Chatroulette for approximately 20 minutes. We got disconnected after a while, but he was a 20 year old German student and we had actually a great conversation about English, nudists, mishaps and clumsy people, which we are. Also, about the beauty inherent in making mistakes.

The third was on the bus. I told him I was engaged but if he wants to be friends he can call me. Stupid? Sure. However- I'm trying to move past being a shut-in, and he builds model trains as a hobby.

Crossing the street to the library, I spoke to a fourth. She spoke to me, actually. I believe she was telling me that if I was 100 pounds, I'd look better in my current outfit (which, I lament, is a dress and black velour yoga pants). Honey- if I was 100 pounds and decided to wear my bra and some spanx as outerwear, the whole of society would approve. As it happens, I'm over 200 pounds- and I leave the house anyway, as a matter of course.

Oh, hey, people on the street? I am a fat lady. Bein' fat. Sometimes, while being fat I do such things as walk, talk, laugh, sit, read, ride the bus, ride the train, and eat. I know, right? Pretty f'ing scandalous. In any way, I just want to assure you that I AM aware that I am fat, am also aware that I would look more like a supermodel if I was skinnier, and I still continue to exist. Plan to exist for as long as possible, really. And I may always be fat.