Last week was my birthday, and all throughout the week awesome things kept happening. My dad had this awesome barbecue for me and my grandma, whose birthday is the day after mine. He made tons of delicious steak and ribs and swordfish and my new step-mother made me a pineapple upside down cake with cherries in it. My boo, T, spoiled me all week, taking me to movies and out to eat, and even to the Body Shop where I got creams and potions and lotions and things to make me feel pretty.

On Thursday we went to the California Academy of Sciences. You get in free if it’s within 7 days of your birthday, and let me tell you there are a lot of birthdays in February. Tons of people were getting in free. It was a steal too, since regular admission is $25. Since it was my birthday, and we went during nightlife, which is only $12, we made out. Also, they enter you into a birthday raffle that gets you two free drinks and tickets to the planetarium.

When we got there, I went directly to the planetarium because I knew the tickets went quickly. We caught the first show of the night, which was fraught with technical difficulties and had to end early, but it was still awesome to see. Just being in the planetarium made me dizzy. The huge curved ceiling made you feel like you were no where. It felt like what I’d imagine being in the middle of the ocean on a cloudless day feels like. You don’t know where anything ends or begins.

After the show we went to the Rainforest, which is awesome and full of little creatures and butterflies. Halfway through it, there was an announcement that I’d won the birthday raffle! It was so wild, and we were having such a good time, it felt like the gods were spoiling me or something. We went to claim our prize and then spent the evening sipping martinis in the atrium before getting to go to the planetarium again and seeing the whole magnificent show in completion, no interruptions.

This feeling comes every so often, though I haven’t had it in a while. When I was in college there was one booth in the dining hall. It was in a little alcove made of stained class. It was my favorite place to sit. One fall semester I’d come to a meal and every time it was free. For weeks, every time I entered the dining hall I could sit at my favorite place. This might not sound like a big deal to you, but it made me feel like I was magic. Like I had this amazing streak of something that wasn’t even luck. It was like the sun was shining on me while it rained all around. T calls it “universal flow”. If you can learn to flowwith the universe, the universe will provide you with everything you seek and everything you need.

As it starts to become spring, I’m trying to get into the flow more and more. I am telling the Little Haters in my head to shut up their chattering. I’m replacing the negative voices with little encouragements. I’m trying to will myself into being strong, capable, confident, and outgoing, instead of giving into the part of me that wants to hide in my bed and never talk to anyone.

I’m trying to take care of myself. Stop doubting or being impatient or injuring myself and start being organized and getting on track. I have a long way to go, but every time I feel that I’m in the flow, it gets easier. It makes me feel like good things will happen, and that all I have to do is float along and recognize it.

It’s a good way to start a new year of being me. I don’t know what I thought I’d be like at 25, but now that I’m here, I’m doing my best to make it better every day.

I’ve been watching a lot of trash TV this week. We are house sitting at a place in a super residential district with no internet, a big flat sceen, and Direct TV. I never watch broadcast TV, but every so often it’s nice to experience. I like to think of it as a sociological study about American Society and Pop Culture. Mostly, my conclusion is that it’s really fucked up. There are some quality shows, but I would say 99% of television tells you how to be, who to be, how to fix all that is wrong with you, and be as beautiful as the skinny bitches strolling happily along Caribbean beaches in bikinis with hot guys. THIS IS LASTING FULFILLMENT.

So last night I flipped on the Boob Tube and my boo, T, and I started watching Phat Girlz on Oxygen. Intrigued, and yet, also slightly put off by the movie’s title, I thought it would be a hot minute before I turned the channel, but something stopped me. I got sucked in.

For all of you in the dark, Phat Girlz is about three ladies who go on vacation, two of whom are lovely thick women, and one of whom is a tight assed aerobic instructor. They are all surprised when a group of Nigerian doctors at the hotel for a conference introduce them to a different point of view. In Nigeria, they say, the thicker the woman, the richer and more attractive she is thought to be. The aerobic instructor, thong and all, starts getting treated like the ugly chick while the other two are swept off their feet, at which point one of them can’t believe that this hot guy actually likes her and freaks out, sure that his affections are dishonest, and bails.

I related to this movie in two ways:

1. I once had a Nigerian boyfriend too!

And when I told him that usually thick girls are treated like lepers, he didn’t know what I was talking about. He could hardly conceptualize the idea that people would prefer skin and bones to hips and boobs and butts. He thought I was hecka sexy and it felt really good.

2. I still ask my boo, T, if he thinks I’m attractive.

I think he’s super hot, and I often wonder how I get to be with such a beautiful guy. I have never, in my whole life, been skinny. Add to that bad skin when I was a teenager, a few stupid boys treating me awful,  many years being single, jerky comments from jerky jerks every so often, and you know, 24 hour media messages telling me that I am ugly, unhealthy, unattractive, not sexy, and not rich enough, dirty, slobby, unfashionable and pathetic, and you have my crippled self-image. For the longest time I thought I’d never have a date, that no one would ever in a million years want to sleep with me, and I would just be alone and live with my best friend and his lover and whoever else and we’d be like Full House only queer and without any widows. And I was okay with that.

The point I’m dancing around is this. ISN’T THIS FUCKED UP?

It’s fucked that I have spent so many years feeling all these inadequate feelings about myself because this society is so obsessed with LIES! Just looking at the other channels, most of them are dedicated to making yourself feel shitty about yourself, and then trying to sell you something that will make you better. Or trying to make you jealous of a lifestyle you will never have. Or making you buy crap you don’t need because it will lead you to a more fulfilled and happy life.

Lies!

We are all insecure humans, and lots of business feeds off our insecurities. From now on, I’m going to make a dedicated effort to not give a shit how ugly I might seem to some people. I’m going to look in the mirror, say “Hot.” and call it good. I’m also going to tell everyone beautiful I see that they are beautiful, and why. I mean, doesn’t it feel good when someone gives you props? Sometimes it can change my whole mood for a whole day or longer. Why don’t we do this all the time? Why do we have to be jealous and compete and try to bring each other down when we can drive around the city yelling “Hot Stuff!” to people on the street? I think the latter would definitely be more fun. And it would be time spent having fun, instead of just sitting around thinking about all the things that are so wrong about you.

*Not actual tilt-a-whirls, but like, brain spinning media messages and stuff. And it rhymes.