So, I’m a wardrobe gal for Theater. This means that I make costumes, assist costume designers in getting a show up and on its feet, and, most importantly, making sure the actors are wearing the correct costume at the correct time. (Harder than it sounds sometimes.) For the two hour extravaganza you see on stage, months of sweat (and tears) go into designing and figuring it all out.
Entries in Pop Culture (130)
I am fat. I am aware of this. I’m not a “person of size.” I’m not pleasantly plump. I’m not a Big Beautiful Woman and I don’t want the weirdness that goes with the BBW label. I don’t need to be told I’m just big boned, or I have a pretty face, or good hair, or whatever. I’m fat. It’s okay to say it. It’s not a bad word. It’s a fact. I wear plus size clothes and I have rolls and bulges and a double chin. My thighs rub together, my arms are flappity and my feet are wide. I’ve got a lot of body and I don’t hate myself. I’m fat and I’m happy.
Since Realbook, Volume One, proved such a successful, honest and entertaining read, Mrs. G. figured with the holidays coming, it was time for Volume Two.
Our Facebook feeds are currently filled with perfectly shaped Christmas trees, shiny decorations, gingerbread houses, seemingly perfect houses with sparkling lights hanging from eaves and smiles in front of fireplaces, lots and lots of smiles. Only the occasional fruitcake or reindeer sweater can inspire a realist (occasional pessimist) to feel a little smug, at ease with her own life.
Mrs. G. isn't suggesting these moments aren't real. She's suggesting that these moments don't represent how some of us feel on any given day or week. It's natural to put our best foot forward, even if the other foot is broken and in a funky cast.
Mrs. G. will start:
1) Her washing machine is leaking and with the Thanksgiving Emergency Service Plumbing Nightmare of 2013, she is going to have to wait until after the holidays to have it fixed. Money doesn't grow on her trees. Thankfully she has lots of extra towels for sopping up extra water.
2) Her beloved Christmas wreath is missing and she suspects it was thrown out by someone in the house who does not have an equal appreciation for beloved wreaths.
3) She has a certain "problem" that involves plastic inserters and cream. Outstanding
So, let your genuine Realbook feed roll. No judgement allowed.
This is a bleeding heart liberal political rant, so if you aren't in the mood, just come back tomorrow or, better yet, scroll down and read Elizabeth's hysterical piece on her former judgement of moms in bars. As far as this post goes, we can debate and disagree but let's avoid insults and name calling.
In seventh grade Mrs. G. stole a book from the Memphis public library. She didn't actively steal it, as in stealthily slip it into her backpack and hotfoot it out the door. No, Mrs. G. was Catholic. Catholic Catholic. It was 1978, and she was panicky about sinning.
The church had recently abandoned the safe and snug anonymity of the perfectly good confessional in favor of the hippy happy, guitar-strumming-nun infused face-to-face confession.
Previously comfortable with the occasional white lie and blasphemy, eleven-year-old Mrs. G. now focused all her efforts on never, ever sinning and, therefore, never, ever sitting on a folding chair at a lame card table across from an ancient, moth-eaten Father Stritch to report her misdeeds while he looked directly at her base and unholy face. Not since discarding the Latin Mass had the Vatican hatched such an ill conceived, daffy plan. Sin has no business in the cold, hard light of day.
So, no, she didn't swipe the book— she just never returned it. She let her mother take the fall and pay the replacement fine (sin). Mrs. G. concealed the book under the winter sweaters on the top shelf of her closet, right next to a battered copy of Mr. and Mrs. Bo Jo Jones on loan from a friend. The book Mrs. G. stole was a copy of Sara Davidson's Loose Change, a nonfiction account of the lives of three Jewish girls, who met while living in a UC Berkeley sorority house, from the 1960's to the mid 1970's: Sara (Davidson), who becomes a successful journalist; Susie, who marries a student radical and grooves through the western counterculture scene; And Tasha, who moves to the Big Apple and becomes a sophisticated fixture in the art world. The book is chock-full of student protests, drug use, the civil rights and feminist movements, the 1968 Chicago Democratic Convention, communes, vaginal explorations and Joni Mitchell. Arousing stuff for a true-blue, quaking Jesus lover. Mrs. G. isn't entirely sure what it was about the book that lead her to a momentary life of crime, but the wholesale disregard for authority and wanton sex didn't hurt. It was in this book that Mrs. G. learned the word patriarchy and, Mother Mary and St. Bernadette, did she use it a lot.
To her mother: Don't you know those false eyelashes and platform shoes are tools of the patriarchy!
To her stepfather: I have better things to do than wash your patriarchal dishes!
Mrs. G. still has her stolen copy of Loose Change. It's currently on the family room bookshelf right next to (oh how things change) Martha Stewart's Cookies...The Very Best Treats to Bake. Mrs. G. is looking at the stolen book right this very moment. It reminds her of criminal behavior and damnation. It makes her nostalgic and wistful for outlaws, the Dewey Decimal System and books you just have to own.
It doesn't make her nostalgic and wistful for the patriarchy because that shit still exists, in spades.
Reader, what was the most stimulating, devilish book you hid on the top shelf of your closet?
Things Mrs. G. Wants to Admit
~Mrs. G. is excited about revamping her blog. It is going to be reminiscent of the old Women's Colony but different in all befitting ways. Despite learning everything she knows about technology from the Amish, Mrs. G. is building this site from the bottom up. Let's hear it for new tricks, old dogs.
~Mr. & Mrs. G. are successfully taking advantage of the Empty Nest. They have been more spontaneous just for the hell of it -- dinners out, uninhibited screaming matches, weekend trips planned, cooking optional.
~Mrs. G. wakes up every morning and thanks God that she doesn't have to placate assholes fixated on organic rotisserie chickens.
~After a the Financially Strapped Summer of the Bambinos, Mrs. G. was able to go out tonight and buy new shirts for Mr. G. and undergarments for herself. And just to grandstand, she bought Klondike Ice Cream Sandwiches...not on sale.
~The three tomato plants Mr. G. planted have yielded, easily, 75 tomatoes. Tomorrow, Mrs. G. is attempting to make fresh marinara sauce.
~Mrs.G's daughter loves her new job (her first paycheck yielded her an awesome cut and color)...
and Mrs. G's son has fallen for New York.
Things Mrs. G. Doesn't Want to Admit
~Despite Mrs. G's success with dealing with the empty nest, she frequently wakes up in her son's bed. Disturbing? Maybe. Weird? Probably. But it's the truth and she's dealing with it.
~It appears the Bigger Love movie isn't going to happen. Mrs. G. will give you the full story soon, but for now, give her a couple of weeks to feel sorry for herself. Mrs. G. said no three times when she was approached by the A&E Network to option her blog, mainly because she has been through YOU ARE SO AWESOME! projects falling through at the last minute. Last week, true to form, this project bit the dust. Mrs. G. is trying to be gracious, but it is slightly killing her that the network of Dance Moms and Supermarket Superstar has written her work off as pedestrian. Tears continue to sporadically fall, but now that Mrs. G. has new undergarments things should start looking up.
Actually, no new bras or underwear can ease this particular disappointment speedy quick, but Mrs. G. is putting on a brave face for you because she's not sure what else to do.
"Depp will help give life to Miguel de Cervantes's famed character Don Quixote in a modern-day film for Disney, Deadline.com reports. The actor is set to produce the movie about the hero of La Mancha, but no word yet on whether he'll be acting in the project. Hewitt will executive produce a Lifetime movie based on a post from Heather Gattuccio's blog Derfwad Manor, Deadline.com reports. In the blog post, the happily married mother dreams of polygamy with A-list stars. The movie tells a new version of the story of a bored homemaker's fictional blog about her own polygamy but when she starts getting noticed for her online presence, she must keep up the charade."
~Mrs. G's dog Gus won't shit outside if it's raining. You might recall Mrs. G. lives in Seattle, where rain falls, on average, 150 days per year. Please send advice or prayers.
~Mrs. G's dog Chewie is perfect, faultless, and Mrs. G. struggles not to favor him. That's a lie. There is no struggle, she favors him. Please send advice and prayers.
It's late and that about covers it. Feel free to share what you do or don't want to admit. No pressure. Mrs. G. has no shortage on her plate, but it's still cathartic to know she's not alone.
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