Category Archives: My Georgia History

Road Trip!!


So…  with tomorrow being Thanksgiving , and the holiday season of traveling to and fro and visiting friends and family is about to begin! It got me to thinking back to about a month and some change ago, when I went home to Atlanta for a quick weekend jaunt, and the BFE and I took Ojeda with us.


God bless. It was a hot mess.


There’s something about guys – you out them in groups, and they conspire and join forces on the craziest sh!t. We left Orlando really early and I guess the early morning rush combined with their general loopiness to great a cacophony of mayhem and foolishness. Pretty early in I decided to journal all of the stuff that happened on our ride up – otherwise no one would believe it. So here it goes…



5:41 am – BFE and Ojeda come up with a new product that turns your farts into floral smells. They nominate me as the spokesperson and even come up with a commercial. The slogan: “do it with dignity”.


6:04 am – BFE drove and I played with Google Sky Map while the stars were still out. HOW HAVE I NEVER KNOWN ABOUT THIS APP?? So neat!


7:21 am – We stop at Mickey D’s. Ojeda argues with the cashier over coffee. Dude keeps asking him “How do you want your coffee?”, and O keeps responding, “with cream and sugar”, only to get a response from cashier dude of  “yes but how do you want it?”I could see O turning red and immediately add this event to our trip report.

They ask for a name for our order and I toy with the idea of giving them the name “Primrose Everdeen” so I could yell “I volunteer as tribute!” I know it’s cliche but I do not care.


9:04 am – While driving through Tifton, GA (the Reading Capitol of the World) and BFE gets cut off by a large SUV. We pass the vehicle, curious to look at the driver, and debate whether it was a redneck version of Pat from SNL or Honey Boo-Boos mama. Then BFE and O contest that Tifton, GA could not possibly be the reading capitol of the world. I tell them both to stfu.


9:20 am – BFE and O argue that computers have only 3 uses for guys: email, facebook and porn. Apparently girls only use computers for email, facebook and pinterest.


9:26 am – Pass an old, run-down farmhouse. Ojeda, my Southern-illiterate friend, asks, “is that a plantation?” I tell him to stfu. He asks if plantations are like haciendas. I tell him again: stfu. BFE giggles.


10:14 am – We argued over whether pandas and koalas are bears. Fact: koalas are marsupials and pandas are bears. Also discussed acid rain. For some reason, BFE mimics acid rain with a disco beat. Strange. He drives on in silence.


10:24 am – Stop at Pilot plaza outside of Macon for gas and bio break. I see a gas truck there. I point and laugh “Bahaha where do gas trucks get gas?!” No one laughs. Guys begin serious discussion of diesel versus gas, and fuel planes fueling mid-air, etc. I don’t understand how fuel planes are more interesting than my gas truck joke. Boys suck.


10:36 am – B asks whether to take 75 N through Macon or 475 around Macon. After much debate we decide to take 75 N. O jokes, “you know whichever route we take it is going to be the wrong one!” Immediately the speed limit drops from 65 to 55. B’s all like, “we should have taken 475!” I think he just said that to be on O’s side. Just sayin.


10:41 am – Pass sign that says in all caps “lust drags you to hell”. Ain’t that the truth. Interesting change from all the anti-abortion signs, “truck driver lounge/ massage” advertisements and stripper billboards that you usually see in South GA and North FL.


10:51 am – Learned something new today. B and O argue about the origin of mobile homes. B says mobile homes are called such because they are from Mobile, AL. O insists it is because they are mobile. Research on the website confirms that D is correct.


11:00 am – Ojeda reads myths from and we guess whether they’re true or false. We’re obviously running out of material.


11:40 am – Traffic slows for accident. Ojeda rolls down window and signals to driver driving Dodge Caravan in next lane to see if we can get over. Driver looks at him and then stares straight ahead, continuing to edge forward with no knowledge of O’s request. String of 4 letter words ensues. Once we pass accident BFE floors it to stream past Dodge Caravan dude while I fist pump in the air. I didn’t see it but suspect that Ojeda flipped him off.


12:04 pm – Finally – THANK YOU SWEET BABY JESUS! – we arrive in Atlanta. Ojeda yells “ATL Dirty South B!tches!!!! …Oh mylanta!”  out the window with complete abandon. We check in on Facebook at the Pink Pony South. We have arrived!


Pants Off… Everyday! Oh, Pink Tutus and a Peeping Tom too.


So Pants Off Friday has kinda blown up into a clothing-free explosion! I am no longer restricted to just Fridays. Now it’s Pants Off Wednesday, Sunday, Thursday. Honestly, the only time I can guarantee full dress is when company is coming over. Right now I’m chilling on the couch in my pajama dress, trying not to resort to full Pants Off  Thursday. I have no idea when I bother. Just embrace my nature, right???


What’s new in the world of the Peach and the BFE… well, the BFE is working hard and loving his job, which is super awesome!! It’s wonderful to see him to happy and enjoying what he does. You can’t wish for more for someone, except maybe to hit the jackpot! We are going to a hockey game next week, which we’re both really excited about. I’m looking forward to beers!!! and fistfights on the ice! He’s a fan of the Tampa Bay Lightning, and I went to my first hockey game ever last week. It was a HOT MESS. I might write a post on my experience, so stay tuned. Any sport where the spectators can yell “beat his a$$!” while one player pummels another is alright in my book.


I started a new job recently, and it’s been crazy! I like it because it’s challenging and puts me out outside of my comfort zone. It’s forcing me to use my brain in ways I haven’t in a while… I’m back in a hotel, and having to think from a different perspective, speak to strangers, and not use the f-word quite so much. An added bonus is I get my own office!! which I plan to decorate for the holidays. I have a 3-foot tree with lights and decorations, and I even have an “apple spice and delight” scented candle in my office right now. Next I’ll bring in a gingerbread scented one!


Yes, I have an office! It’s exciting and lovely and I enjoy it. I’ve hung Audrey Hepburn pictures on the walls, and brought in nick-nacks, doo-dads and my little Travelocity Gnome to grace my bookshelves. When it’s not the holiday season I have a cotton candy scented candle that a friend gave me that makes the whole office  – and it’s primary resident (me) – smell like cannnndy! Although this breaks my cardinal rule – that big girls should NEVER smell like food – the effect is quite pleasant.


Candles are good for not just setting the mood, but also battling the one weird problem i my office. There’s a weird dog-food type odor near my desk, like someone mixed kibbles n’ bits together with kashi cereal (which is the consistently and flavor of dry cat food) and left a bowl of this mixture under my desk for my personal pleasure.


At least three times a day I find myself sitting in my office, working on BEOs and then… *sniff sniff* “where’s is that coming from?” I stop my work, and climb under my desk looking for the answer. I look crazy doing this, but what’s new. My co-workers should get a taste now of who they are working with. To date, I haven’t found the kashi-kibbles mix, just an old calendar and some post-it notes and a Cheerio, which I think is mine. Nevertheless, I know it’s there somewhere, taunting me. And ruining the effect of my holiday sensory experience.


Um… so yeah… I guess if that’s my biggest complaint on my new office I’m doing ok! The only thing missing from my office right now is the “emergency flask”… if you know what I mean.


What else is new? Sorry I haven’t posted in a while! The job offer and subsequent change happened really quickly, and right as the BFE and I were planning a weekend trip to Atlanta to visit the fam. We ended up taking Ojeda so he could have his first “Hotlanta” experience, and to go to a Baptist Church for the first time. Our trip, as it turned out, was over Pride Weekend, which added it’s own element of hilarity to the whole weekend. Our hotel overlooked Peachtree Street so we had a great view of the festivities. I understand that the guys especially enjoyed the parade of pink tutus on Saturday afternoon, while I was getting dressed. 🙂


This was my first trip home where I didn’t leave feeling really homesick and ready to plot my move back to Atlanta. I think we’re finally settling into a groove here in Orlando, and it feels like home, which is nice. Getting our own place – the BFE and I – really helped. It was a bonus for my pants-free habits, but also a really sweet little “nest” for us. It’s feels like our place.


Speaking of our place, our bedrooms windows are perfect for spying on our neighbors! We live catercorner to a super cute gay couple, and I enjoy spying on their entertaining and outgoing social life. Hey, it’s not wrong… it’s happening right outside my window. Which I have the blinds closed to. While I stare unabashedly to find out what’s going on. With the lights off so they can’t tell I’m a Peeping Tom. In my opinion it’s their bad for keeping their windows open! And being so loud when they fight.


The other night around 11pm they were arguing in the courtyard, and one of them stormed upstairs to pack up his things and leave. BFE and I were already in bed (we’re such an old couple, I mean, 11 pm and in bed? really???) but we woke up to someone shouting “dont f#cking touch me!” BFE gave me the play by play while I relaxed in bed. It was a nice bonding experience for us… stogether.


Hey don’t judge. every couple has their hobbies.


In unrelated news I just realized that my nightgown that I put on while enjoying Pants-Off Thursday is actually on inside out. I’ve been wearing it for 3 and a half hours and just now noticed. I think that’s a sign to log off now.


More posts to come again soon! Y’all miss me?

10 Things!! Again!!


Yall remember this from last year??

WELL I was pinteresting as usual, searching for fun ideas when I came across this post from a cool blog called hopes & dreams:

The blog post has 30 questions that you share and trade with your partner


1. List 20 random facts about yourself.
2. Describe 3 legitimate fears you have and explain how they became fears.
3. Describe your relationship with your parents.
4. List 10 things you would tell your 16 year-old self, if you could.
5. What are the 5 things that make you most happy right now?
6. What is the hardest thing you have ever experienced?
7. What is your dream job, and why?
8. What are 5 passions you have?
9. List 10 people who have influenced you and describe how.
10. Describe your most embarrasing moment.
11. Describe 10 pet peeves you have.
12. Describe a typical day in your current life.
13. Describe 5 weaknesses you have.
14. Describe 5 strengths you have.
15. If you were an animal, what would you be and why?
16. What are your 5 greatest accomplishments?
17. What is the thing you most wish you were great at?
18. What has been the most difficult thing you have had to forgive?
19. If you could live anywhere, where would it be and why?
20. Describe 3 significant memories from your childhood.
21. If you could have one superpower, what would it be and what would you do with it first?
22. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years? 15 years?
23. List your top 5 hobbies and why you love them.
24. Describe your family dynamic of your childhood vs. your family dynamic now.
25. If you could have dinner with anyone in history, who would it be and what would you eat?
26. What popular notion do you think the world has most wrong?
27. What is your favorite part of your body and why?
28. What is your love language?
29. What do you think people misundertand most about you?
30. List 10 things you would hope to be remembered for.



Anyway, I sent my first 10 to the BFE. Check out my responses, and I’ll post the others as we go along. I encourage everyone to swap answers with the close people in their lives. It’s interesting to see how much stuff you already knew, and how much you didn’t!


From: Peach
Sent: Friday, September 14, 2012 5:32 PM
Subject: 30 Things
Here are the first 10. See my answers and send yours back!


1. List 20 random facts about yourself.

  1. I’m left-handed
  2. My favorite color is pink
  3. I used to be a spelling bee champ in elementary school
  4. I’m addicted to social media
  5. I’m obsessed with being a good friend
  6. I think brussel sprouts are disgusting
  7. Really disgusting
  8. I love reading
  9. I probably apologize too much
  10. I hate people making me feel stupid
  11. I am a hopeless romantic, but I hate for people to see that
  12. I believe in reincarnation. I don’t think that makes me less of a Christian.
  13. I love dogs but I lurrrrrv cats!
  14. My goal in life is to be happy. Not to be a firefighter, not to be good at this or that, but ultimately – just be happy.
  15. I want to have kids one day.
  16. If I’m mean to you it’s because I like you and think you’re cool.
  17. I (not so) secretly adore crafting.
  18. Shows I watched between 2008 – 2012: The Tudors, Gossip Girl, Game of Thrones, The Borgias, Phineas & Ferb, The Closer, Rome.
  19. I am still hopeful that the show Firefly will make a comeback. Come back!!!!
  20. I have never truly and unequivocally been in love until the summer of 2011.

2. Describe 3 legitimate fears you have and explain how they became fears.

  1.  I am afraid of car accidents – my family and I have been in quite a few and the worst one for me was hitting a dividing wall in a crash that could have sent me off of a bridge. They scare me so much.
  2. I am afraid that we won’t be able to have kids. I am also afraid that we will have kids that have disabilities and I won’t know how to handle that.
  3. I’m afraid my natural meanness will drive away the ones that I love.

3. Describe your relationship with your parents.

Shaky at times, and great at other times. I am afraid of failing them. My dad is a great listener, and my mother has high expectations, which I am fearful that I’ll never meet, because I’m not the person that she wants me to be.

4. List 10 things you would tell your 16 year-old self, if you could.

  1.    Wait!! Wait until you’re doing it for the right reasons.
  2. Don’t be such a wallflower. Be more assertive.
  3. Don’t be afraid to get in trouble at school, if that means you will lean over and tell that a-hole in your science class and on your bus to shut the f$%# up and leave you the hell alone.
  4. When that bully tries to push you around, but hide. Fight back. It’ll help you gain confidence in the future.
  5. Finish your homework! Dammit.
  6. DO NOT. PUT THAT NOTE. IN THAT BOY’S LOCKER. Please. I’m begging you.
  7. Don’t go to the interview at Pretzel Time. You’re allergic to yeast.
  8. When boys talk to you and your friends like that set a higher standard and move on, Martha, move on!
  9. When taking the PSAT, consider all of the school options and go for what you want. Stand up for what you want – fight for it. It’s your future!
  10. Remember how awesome you are! You do NOT have thunder thighs, you’re a size 8. Shut up.

5. What are the 5 things that make you most happy right now?

  1. “Nesting” with the man of my dreams
  2. Planning a wedding with the man of my dreams
  3. Realizing that I have os much love and support in my life, thanks to the people in it.
  4. I am heading to “date night” with my fiance
  5. I won 500 tickets at Dave & Buster’s this afternoon at the Staff Appreciation Lunch!

6. What is the hardest thing you have ever experienced?
Arguing with my mother back in July, and what she said to me during that argument. I don’t think I will ever forget that. No one tells you how hard it is to forgive and forget. Especially the forget part.

7. What is your dream job, and why?
Samantha Brown’s job!! Hands down.

8. What are 5 passions you have?

  1. love & romance
  2. friendships
  3. travel
  4. making a difference in the world – leaving my mark
  5. I have to think on this one!

9. List 10 people who have influenced you and describe how.

  1. My Concierge Manager when I was at Gaylord Palms
  2. My American Lit teach in the 11th grade. Not for good reasons, though. She hated me.
  3. Samantha Brown – I realized you can make a living from travel!
  4. My fiance – he wears his heart on his sleeve and his sincerity makes me want to be less of an a-hole
  5. My mom – I spent most of my formative years trying to be the person she wanted me to be, and I think it set my own character development back because of it.
  6. Bill Clinton – because he’s Bill. Effing. Clinton.
  7. hmm… I owe you three more!

10. Describe your most embarrassing moment.
When I had an accident in the 7th grade when “my grandma” came ot town early. My acclerated program teach told me to tie my sweater around my waist – I didn’t know what happened, but my classmates did. It was only a few years ago that I could think of that situation without getting horribly embarrassed.

His response:
On Fri, Sep 14, 2012 at 5:33 PM, The BFE wrote:

What is this? Homework? That’s a LOT OF STUFF!!!!

Uhm…ok. I”ll get cracking.


Baton Bob


Okay, so like 10 years ago, I was walking to class in downtown Atlanta (I went to school at Georgia State University), and as I was crossing Peachtree Street to head into my classroom, I spied the most peculiar sight: a grown a$$ man marching and dancing down the street, head held high, wearing sunglasses, a tutu and marching band boots (you know the ones I’m talking about, that the baton girls wore), swinging a baton and blowing a whistle. It was crazy, and slightly exhilarating to see this random sight in the middle of a very blah school day. I remember texting friends about what I’d seen – keep in mind, TEXTING at that time was on a alphanumberic keyboard and took a lot of time. Obviously I really wanted to share what I saw.


It wasn’t until three days ago (as in 2012!!!) that the identity of this baton-twirling man was Baton Bob.

I had no idea who Baton Bob was until I was looking at one of my favorite blogs When In Atl (it’s the best place for keeping up with my hometown hilarity) and they posted up an article about Baton Bob getting harrassed.

Suddenly it all clicked. I remember Baton Bob! Omigosh, by my recollection he’s been marching and whistling and twirling his baton faithfully through the streets of Atlanta for over TEN YEARS. Amazing that it’s the same guy! To think that I remembered him from all these years. The sight of his one-man parade mesmerized me so much that day; I can still remember it like it just happened.

I’m saddened that someone went as far as to threaten his life, just because they didn’t care for his “lifestyle”. Who gives a flying fart in space about his “lifestyle”?? So what… he’s a little left of center.  We all are (granted, he more than most). The man gets joy out of performing in the streets, why exert the energy and negativity to threaten to kill or hurt him? I’m constantly surprised by the number of douches the rest of us are forced to come into contact with every day. How does his behavior afect you? He’s not harming himself or anyone else. I can personally state that seeing him brought a little joy back into my day that day. He’s like an effing Santa Claus, spreading joy. Who would want to kill Santa Claus?? douches.

What would Christmas have been like if Santa Claus delivered your presents in THIS outfit? Woudl there have been disco music involved? Just asking.


What happened to the Southern adage, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothin’ at all”?  Another favorite of mine was “Bless your heart”, which is used when you don’t know what to say, or you think the person’s an idiot. Typically this is said inconjunction with another statement and often behind the person’s back. Southerners are NOT very confrontational. Which is why I’m shocked that this ignunt fool got all up in Baton Bob’s grill. How mad must he have been?


Granted, we might believe in Southern Hospitality, bit there’s always just a pinch of crazy in that mint julep.


I mean, are you just that angry and bitter that not everyone falls in with your description of “normal”? Did someone pee in your cheerios when you woke up this morning and that made you into the cranky, self-righteous TOOLBAG who think’s it’s your God-given mission to rid the city of those you deem unacceptable? Or are you just mad that SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE is having… (Lord help us all)… FUN???? Puh-lease. get a grip. Better yet, get a hobby. I’d suggest baton-twirling, but I bet you won’t be as good at it as Baton Bob.


Hell, I wish I had the guts to parade down the street with a fricking baton and march to the beat of my own drummer. If someone tried to tell me I was wrong for doing it, I’d probably throw one of my marching band boots at them. Probably not right to answer hate with violence, but I bet they couldn’t fus as much if their mouth was swollen shut.


Pretending to wave at my subjects while walking the streets of Disney’s Animal Kingdom is about as close as I’ll get to pulling a Baton Bob. Unless alcohol is involved.


I think one of the number one problems we have these days is the number of people that get personally involved in $hit that’s none of their business (example: other people’s uteruses, but don’t get me started) and don’t get involved in enough stuff that’s everyone’s business (i.e., voting, community work, education, the arts).

I’m glad to hear that people are supporting Baton Bob, though. It reminds me alittle of the drama that’s going on with the bus monitor that got harrassed by a douche canoe of $hitty students. Clearly those boys lacked any type of home training. My mom would have whupped my a$$ from sunup to sundown if I’d done something as atrocious as this. After reading another one of my favorite blogs, Angrivated, he mentions that people stood behind her so firmly that they raised enough money to not only send her on vacation but let her retire. Kudos!

Even though I got an update on Baton Bob because someone threatened, it was nice to hear that he’s still alive and high-stepping, bringing a little mirth to the merry citizens of downtown Atlanta. I admire his resilient soul. How about a bit fist (baton?) pump in the air for Baton Bob!!!


Now if only I can find out about the whereabouts of the sausage man… this dude that used to standon the street corner near my high school, wearing sickeningly tight bike shorts. Then the circle will be complete.

“Expecting to Have a Good Time, Of Course!”


Before you ask , NO I AM NOT PREGNANT!

When I was a young un’ working at a major theme park in Georgia, I learned one VERY important rule: NEVER ASK A WOMAN IF SHE IS PREGNANT. NEVER. EVER. Ever, ever, ever. The fallout if you are wrong could be nuclear.

Back at the theme park I worked in the entertainment and events areas, but I remember one year where the park was open on what was traditionally a school day and since the majority of its workforce was in high school, they drafted the rest of us (the college students and full-timers) to work in the rides department to keep the park functional. I was sent through a day long rides class and taught operational safety, how to handle guest situations, etc.  It was entertaining and educational and very very hilarious.

The funny thing is, after all that training, I only worked one ride, and that was all it took to make a complete fool of myself. In a 6 hour shift I managed to get gum on my pants and then rip those same pants, from the front to the back, right up the middle. Being an “indoors girl”, the sweat and heat had made me quickly droopy and limp like a banana peel. My pants stuck to me like an old snake-skin that I couldn’t shed, and when I lifted my leg to cross over a gate, I heard a RIIIIIIP! The horror and embarrassment of that incident is still with me to this day, and that was just one day over 9 years ago.

The key thing I learned from my GRAT class (General Ride Attendant Training) was that there were quite a few rides that pregnant women could not ride. If you spotted a guest whom you thought was pregnant you were obligated to walk over and quietly ask:

“Are you expecting??”

Then there were basically three outcomes you could expect from this question.

1 – The woman, being pregnant, know what the word “expecting” means, and says yes. (You REALLY hope for this answer)

2 – The woman, being pregnant, does NOT know what the word “expecting means, and is confused. (You really hope NOT to get this answer if she is in fact pregnant, because this means that her state’s education system probably failed her somewhere along the line)

3 – The woman, NOT being pregnant, does NOT know what the word “expecting” means and looks confused (again, another response you HOPE to get)

(I should note here that the BFE, after proofreading my blog, offers up option #4: that the woman, NOT being pregnant, DOES still know what the word “expecting” means, and what he refers to as “a major nuclear holocaust” erupts, and the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse appear out of nowhere, and while ululating “lilililili” like Xena the Warrior Princess, and similar to the “Avengers Assemble” battle cry, take your dumb theme park trained ass out, leaving nothing but a smudge of grease on the ground and the light smell of sulfur in the air. But I digress.)


If you get the first response, you move forward with explaining that the ride she’s in line for may not be appropriate for her safety and enjoyment. Typically New Mama understands and leaves the line and waits for her party at the exit line.

If you get the second or third response – and honestly, this is always a bit risky – when they quizzically ask “Expecting what?” You say “Expecting to have a great time, of course!” and get the eff out of there.


If  you get the 4th response well… I really don’t know. Pray for rain?


To date, I have never had to use this second response. I cannot imagine how you would even begin to try to jokingly say that to a woman without feeling super stupid. All you can do is smile that crazily psychotic and phony smile that all theme park employees master within three months of employment, and just try to make it into a “aren’t you excited to be here??!?!?!?!” kinda moment. I can just visualize trying to do this:

Dorky College Peach, in a nervous voice: “Excuse me ma’am (lowers voice) …are you expecting?”

Eight Months Pregnant Park Guest from Alabama, wearing a shirt in Bama colors that says “It’s A Girl!” with an arrow pointing  down to her ginormous pokey-outey belly, stares down Dorky College Peach, sizing her up: “What do you mean??? What are you trying to say??? Expecting what?”

Dorky College Peach, suddenly realizing that her $8 an hour job would not pay for the medical bills she’s about incur after getting her ass kicked by pregnant woman: “Um… nothing. Just… expect to have a great time on this ride.” (scampers towards break room to recover her dignity and rock quietly in corner in the fetal position.)

To this day, I REFUSE to ask anyone, friend co-worker, stranger, relative… I refuse to ask them if they are pregnant unless they tell me specifically. I will not congratulate them on their baby unless I or someone I know has received a baby shower invite.  I don’t care if you are wearing maternity clothes with thoughtful mom-to-be prints on them, with scampering bunnies and birds all about the hem, and rubbing their bellies while talking about painting the spare bedroom for their “newest addition”. I don’t care if you walk past me, heavily pregnant and carrying a floral arrangement and Mother’s Day balloon to their desk, until you are LITERALLY GIVING BIRTH ON THE FLOOR IN FRONT OF ME I WILL NEVER ASK. Not unless you tell me first.

Two examples why:

1 – I was working as a veterinary assistant (I know, it was completely random) and one of the other assistants was pregnant. A new vet started with the clinic who confused me and pregnant girl, and asked me if I was expecting. The look of horror and upset on my face pretty much said it all. Granted, pregnant girl was only 4 months along, but I was horrified that someone would ask me that! I wasn’t even really a big girl at the time. I went to the back and cried. Then headed home and ate like, 4 donuts. The rest is history.

2 – My friends Case and JT told me this story: while meeting with a clearly pregnant client over lunch, no one would say anything. She dropped hints, made random statements, and still no one said congratulations or asked any questions. Until she said that her baby was due the following week. Meaning this chick must have been like, over 8 and a half months pregnant and had been desperately tugging at her jacket to try to pull it shut over her huge pregnancy belly. As soon as she said the baby was due, everyone at the table was like “ohhhh! Ok, we were wondering!” No one had the balls to say anything. LOL

I’ve known people who are kinda chunky, and just hold all their weight in their midsection. Still I never ask. One girl I knew would always rub her belly, and would lean back in the seat with her hands on her belly akin to your typical pregnant woman. I was scared to death to ask her, and to this day I’m glad I never did.

So the moral of the story is this: Unless you have nerves of steel or work in a theme park backed by bunnies and mice, NEVER EVER, ever ask a pregnant woman if she’s expecting, at least not until her water breaks. If you ever do decide to be brave and ask, take my advice: ask the “Are you expecting?” question, and always, always be prepared to run away.

A Big Ol’ Peach In A Lil’ Ol’ Orchard


Just sayin’.

You wanna know something random that annoys me?  When people assume that, because I’m a big girl, I want to sit in the front seat of the car. Like I am too fat to sit in a normal seat and must be accommodated. Like, when there’s a group of us and we are taking all the seats in the front and back, including the middle seat, I automatically get shotgun. Like I’m just sooo big that I’ll squish everyone in the backseat with my bigness and all the skinny people will be unable to breathe because they are smothered by my elbow fat and smushed against the window, desperately trying to flag down passing motorists for help.


Yeah, I’m going for the gut today (no pun intended). Sometimes people just assume that you’re too big to cope with everyday life and have to somehow be handled differently. Not that I MIND getting shotgun, it’s just rude when it’s decided that I should ride in the front, typically by others while I’m standing RIGHT THERE but not by actually asking me or flat out saying “hey big girl, you ride in front ’cause you’re big” . Big fat peaches have feelings just like the little peaches. No need to talk about me like I’m not there. I CAN FUCKING HEAR YOU and it’s rude.


You know what else bugs me? Assuming that somehow my day-to-day is different because I’m plus sized. I shop, go to work, go to church, walk around theme parks, drive my car, hit the beach, hold my fiance’s hand, and I do all of this without sweating profusely due to fatigue, wearing muumuus or having to use a scooter. In the grand scheme of things I’m very fortunate that I can pretty much do the stuff I want to do, and not be hindered by size or health or whatever.


I’m not minimizing the fact that I need to lose weight: I know this. That’s not the point. It’s my own struggle, no need to take any of my issues on to yourself. When I need something, I’ll ask for it. I’m not putting discomfort upon you, so why should you care what my deal is? If I am not encroaching upon you, leave me be.


When I lived in Georgia, I rarely felt out of place because I was a big girl. I worked with theater people that were obsessed about their weight and would often comment about how “fat” they were. I’d think “really??! REALLY?!?!” but ultimately just keep it to myself, since each person sees themselves differently, and to one person a size 6 IS fat, etc., etc. I didn’t think too much of it on a regular basis until I moved to Orlando, and I’m surrounded on a daily basis by skinny white chicks who call each other fat, guys that call girls fat, and places that make you feel like you’re too big to be in the room. Somehow, somewhere in the equation, “fat” began to equal “ugly”. It sucks because I unintentionally bought into that idea, and let my self-identity suffer as a result.


At my lowest point of self-esteem after moving here to Orlando, I remember leaving a club downtown because I felt like the fattest, ugliest girl in the room. My friends were all getting hit on, and I felt like the fat ugly chick that skinny girls always bring along just to make themselves feel better. Not that my friends felt this way! The exhaustion of always putting on a happy face and smiling even though I felt like a loser finally got to me, and I retreated. I’m ashamed to admit that this happened more than once. It’s sad, and I hope that no one ever feels the way I did.


I’m not sure when things began to change but I got better at hiding when people’s unheeding comments hurt my feelings. So much so that it surprises my friends sometimes when I finally do admit how vulnerable  I get about the little stuff, like not being able to fit on the Harry Potter Ride, or going to try on wedding dresses at a boutique and being told that they don’t have dresses in my size. A confident exterior is just that, an exterior. Sh!t still hurts.


Eventually keeping up the strong exterior makes it easier to be stronger inside too. I’m getting there, slowly but surely. Having someone that loves you, just REALLY LOVES you for who you are, no change necessary, helps. A lot of stuff doesn’t bug me anymore, but every once in a while, something stupid like giving me shotgun because you think I’m too big to sit in the back, really sets me off. My busty-ness and big peach shaped ass bother you? SUCK IT! And scoot over, ’cause I wanna sit in the back.



Getting Over Elementary School


Driving to work today, I almost got hit by a giant schoolbus. No lie.

My near brush with the broad side of a bus (ha!) sparked a flashback to elementary and high school, and my bus drivers for both. It also reminded me of how much I loved high school and yet HATED elementary school.

Kinda backwards, right? A lot of people I know agree that high school was the most miserable time of their lives. I guess I can see why that would be the case… high school is not for the faint of heart. Middle Sis once told me that she used to cry every day on the way home from school, and I consider her one of the toughest cookies I know. Ironically I’m considered the biggest crybaby of the family and I really enjoyed my years in high school. I wasn’t the prom queen or anything (although I was a cheerleader), but I was finally learning not to give a crap about people’s opinions, and although I hadn’t mastered it just yet, I was starting to come into my own. I can’t say that all my memories of high school are pleasant, but compared to elementary school, high school was a year round vacation.

One reason I hated elementary school was because of the bullies. One I remember the most was a girl named Keiona. In elementary school, I was a shrimp, with big goggle Sally Jessie Raphael glasses, and mushroom-shaped hair. Keiona was fat (in 2nd grade, I guess she could be called pudgy) and not terribly smart or cute, and I think she compensated for these shortcomings by finding someone she could bully. That ended up being me.

 One thing I learned in elementary school was that kids are better than bloodhounds: they can smell fear, urine and weakness form a mile away. I was a bit of a nerd (no surprise), I liked keeping to myself and reading, and I was so afraid of getting in trouble at home for misbehaving that I never defended myself. Any village idiot could tell you that I was a prime target, ripe for the picking. She pulled all of the traditional bully tactics: pushing me, jumping my space in line, writing stupid notes about me to MY friends, making jokes at my expense, everything. This stupid pudgy girl made me hate myself all through elementary school, and I will NEVER forgive that.

One particular memory I won’t ever forget: I was sitting by myself in the lunchroom, reading my newest Babysitter’s Club book, and Keiona sauntered over. It was apple spice cake day, which any kid in my school could tell you was one of the best desserts of the month! I was saving my piece of cake until the end of my lunch, and Keiona STUCK HER FINGER INTO MY CAKE and said “did you want this?”. I angrily pushed it away, and told her she could have it. Lil fatty scampered off, mouthful of cake, while her friends laughed.

A few years later, I got my period and had an “accident” in class. I was already embarrassed, and the bullies took an opportunity to prey upon my further. I was mortified.

The worst part of it all I think was the helplessness, being angry and feeling like I couldn’t do anything. I’m pretty sure now that my parents would understand if I’d gone batshit on those kids, but I wasn’t willing to risk it. Good behavior was so instilled in me that I didn’t do anything. I didn’t even tell the teacher. But I never forgot.

When I saw I’ll never forget, I mean it: Keiona recently friend requested me on Facebook, and I declined. The image of that fat little bully has never really left my mind. I wanted to message her “B!tch you owe me a piece of apple spice cake!”

Dang mushroom hair never really went away :/