Walking the Hedge » Everything Else

More Weird Dreams

Juniper — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 18:34:59 +0000

Last night I dreamed of the second coming of Christ.

Only he wound up in the body of an autistic teen age boy. His family kept him locked in a room in their farm house and was trying to pass off his older (and handsome and Neurotypical) brother as the messiah. In the dream I am a friend of the family and I was trying to free Christ from his “prison” but failing at it. During a visit, he gave me some house plants to tend for him.

This was all happening somewhere in northern British Columbia.

Oh, and the people he was sent to save? A race of sentient Muppets who were being forced into secret slavery by the entertainment industry. So, I snuck into Universal Studios (which for some reason was in BC) and helped Elmo (of sesame street) escape. He became the new Christ’s prophet.

I have a very odd subconscious.

Arrived

Juniper — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 21:40:59 +0000

Look what my Mom got me for Yule/Xmas! It arrived today.

Wordless Wednesday: Co- sleeping

Juniper — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 17:55:24 +0000

My Back

Juniper — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 18:15:46 +0000

I hurt my back on Friday night, falling on the ice. Wrenched it trying to save myself. I’ve spent all weekend in rather a lot of pain and have gotten next to nothing done. Last night I was tossing and turning, unable to sleep because of my back.

I finally drifted off to sleep and dreamed of a tree. In my hand was a set of instructions from the tree. I can read in my dreams (though it has taken years of practice, as a child I could not) but it can be difficult to focus. Yes, the ADHD girl even has a hard time focusing in her dreams. *sigh*

Painstakingly I followed the tree’s directions. Water on the this root, clear debris from there, push in that piece of bark, remove that dead stick. I got all the way through the list … and nothing happened. Except I woke up.

And my back wasn’t hurting anymore. Yay!

Also; weird.

Skinny Girl

Juniper — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 17:25:29 +0000

I used to be skinny. Downright thin as a rail. NO, I wasn’t anorexic or bulimic, though I was constantly accused of such. Being thin just runs in my family. I had a women’s body and a teenage boy’s metabolism. It slowed down, thankfully in my midtwenties.

This is how Nature made me

But from my early teens to my mid-twenties (and sometimes still) I was bullied, abused and attacked for being thin. Surprised? I bet you are. Skinny women are perfect and everyone loves them, we are so attractive right? Well, that what everyone thought. Which is why they were cruel to me.

I’ve had girlfriends be so angry that I fit a size two dress that they stormed out of the store and refused to speak to me ever again.

I’ve had co-workers follow me to the bathroom to see if I purged my lunch,

I’ve had snide remarks and insults thrown my way for ordering a full meal in front of another woman picking at a salad.

I’ve been told that I am not a real women, because real women have curves.

I’ve had women ask me (in front of a whole party) if I had to wear little girl’s training bras.

I’ve had other women throw food at me, because I needed to stop starving myself.

I’ve had men tell me that they wished I had bigger boobs.

In high school and my early adult hood it got so bad that I would come home and cut myself.

But I wasn’t allowed to have body image issues. As a pretty girl with thick curly hair and a skinny body, I was supposed to be perfect and happy. Therefore I had no right to express unhappiness with my body or they way people treated me for having it.

I had no right to complain that it’s hard to find shirts that aren’t too big in the chest.

I had no right to complain that it was hard to find pants that fit, because surely everything is made to fit a size 2-4? (no, it’s not, clothes are meant to fit 6 foot tall skinny girls with boob jobs)

I had no right to complain about being cold or tired.

I had no right to complain about the aches and pains of sleeping on my bones from lack of body fat.

But it’s totally okay for you to single me out and make an example of me.

It’s okay for you to talk, in front of me, about how disgusting skinny girls are.

It’s okay for you make comments about my eating habits.

It’s okay for you to point out how weak I am from not having enough meat on my bones.

It’s okay to lift up my shirt and loudly count my ribs in front of everyone.

And it’s totally okay to pass around images like this one:

Images that say there is something wrong with me. That I am some kind of monstrous freak.

That I am “ewwwww”

This image says that I am ugly, horrible, wrong and not beautiful or sexy. It says that I do not deserve respect or basic human decency.

This image says nothing about how all women are beautiful. It says a certain kind of woman ought to be considered more beautiful than others.

You are swinging the pendulum too far.

You shouldn’t attack skinny girls to build up the non-skinny girls. You don’t need to attack me and make me feel disgusting to make yourself feel good.

Every time you tell a chubby girl that skinny girls are gross, are you thinking about the message you are passing on to the skinny girl who heard you say that?

Stop this shit. Passing around images like this is not funny and it doesn’t fix or help a thing.

Two wrongs don’t make a right.

And don’t you ever attack or insult skinny girls in front of me because I will tear you to fucking pieces.

Easy Mulled Wine

Juniper — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 17:12:38 +0000

One large bottle of dark red wine. A cup or two or three of cranberry-grape juice. A few oranges in slices or quarters. Plenty of organic honey. Ground cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg. Cover, low temperature for a few hours. No metal utensils.