Is there such a thing as “weight-ist”? “Fat-ist?” No? Well, there should be. This? This is not normal. About a week after the Britney episode of Glee I overheard a group of my students, two boys and one girl, talking during their five-minute free time at the end of class. One of the boys said…
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I can’t even be accountable to myself
Bah. BAH BAH BAH. I’m such a bad McFatty. I have no goals. And I have a horrible time sticking to goals when I make them. HORRIBLE TIME, Y’ALL. I dropped a jeans size. My work pants fit comfortably. I do not fit nicely into the beautiful purple sheath dress that I am dying to…
Speak, people. We cannot be silent.
Most of us have, by now, read or heard Tyler Clementi’s story. If you haven’t, I have to wonder what kind of rock you’re living under. Mae at Parenting in Progress wrote a beautiful post about this tragedy. (And if you haven’t, here’s the two-ish-sentence summary: Tyler Clementi asked his dorm roommate for privacy while…
When my soul is weary, my sanity is weak
I’m only week one into Hellmonth and I’m weary, y’all. I’m tired. I’m stressed. It’s all going to be over soon, right? Right. I can do this, right? Right. I know I can. But nights like last night, when I walk in the door at 10:00 and there’s grading to be done and I’m freezing…
6 pounds in 6 weeks. Not too shabby.
Y’all, look at the slope of this line: I mean, isn’t it pretty? There’s something about seeing your progress on a graph that is fulfilling. Even if I probably couldn’t figure out how to graph this without the use of a computer. If I entered the rest of my weights into the program, that would…