The Five Strands of A Sedentary Empress

Fat Girl

It's been raining for two days. Everything is green, the air is possessed with purple perfume, and every movement evokes a 'squish, squish, squish'. All of it is welcome. All of it reawakens the summers of 1982, 1983, 1984...endless days with my grandparents by the river, when people still barbequed over charcoal, when the smell of Coppertone was the season's signature scent. I miss everything about those days, have trouble believing that the grandparents are gone, that the river flows for strangers, that we grill lean meat over fake briquettes. The Coppertone, though. It smells the same. It raises yesterday from the dead.

"Fat Girl" 

Wrote that this morning when our router died, severing ties to the internet world. I couldn't read about JonNKate+8 (the whole thing is just sad), I couldn't read any of the emails I received which essentially amounted to wasted time, I couldn't make my move in Wordscraper with A., so I wrote a little something. M. bought a new router, though, because his world exists in cyberland and I think he was beginning to get the shakes from withdrawal. I didn't mind the small break, though. I wrote this poem and have nearly completed a second. Amazing what limited distractions and lack of procrastination might produce.

I have been very careful about the foods I've been eating, lately. All sorts of reasons, not the least of which is that I feel better when I eat well. Last night was a spinach omelet with a hint of nutmeg and parmesan and a leafy salad with chopped avocado. It was surprisingly satisfying. This morning was cereal with sliced strawberries, tea and a banana. I was feeling good, doing well, and then computer class. One of the women brought in a huge container of chocolate squares and insisted everyone eat at least two. Who was I to refuse? So, I came home, feeling slightly nauseated from all the sugar and made myself a sandwich. As I munched on it, hoping for some kind of medicinal effect, M. and the wee one came home with a box of doughnut holes, telling me it was a 'surprise' for me because I am that loved. I have now eaten my fourth, and I feel disgusting. I actually feel like there is lard in my veins as I type this, and I feel my middle distending in a sugary-lardy bloat. I hate that the good stuff is so bad. I hate that I ate any of it even though I knew I would feel like this. I hate myself because I know there is a French cruller bite down there and I will rip the arms off of anyone who tries to take it away from me.