Oh, and...

...James takes all my Etsy pictures. It's handy having an art photographer in the house!

Sicky.

All quiet on my front...because James gave me some flu-like disease. Possibly the flu.

I have major cabin fever to go with my high-temperature-type fever, so I've been on the internetz a bunch, pimping my Etsy page. In the last two days I've been featured in two "Treasuries", which are a big way that you get noticed by other sellers and buyers on Etsy.

The links only stay up for a few days, but the first one is about natural, green items and the second is because I'm a good writer (no, really!). Anyway, that's been the highlight of my week on the couch.

Oh, the cognitive dissonance of it all.

Anyway, I've been trying to lose weight lately. It seems that I've been successful: I've lost about 6 pounds in a month (plus a little more before I actually decided to start losing weight), which is a healthy rate. Now, I knew that BMI (Body Mass Index) was dumb: I have been in my life very muscular (though less so now), so it's never applied to me. I've mostly ignored it. I'm at just over BMI 27 at the moment (5'4"+ and about 158 lbs) ; the cutoff for women going from "normal" to "overweight" is 24 or 25, I think. So, I'm overweight.

The current thinking in the health community has more to do with hip-to-waist ratio for health. Mine is 0.73, as my waist is 30" and my hips are (dear me, it sounds awful, but I know that it's just my bone structure, I've never been less than 39"-40") is 41". Normal for women is under 0.86. So, I'm quite healthy. Um...

My hips (41") measure an American size* 12/14, my waist (30") a size 8/10, and my bust (36") a size 6/8. Huh?

I'm taller than average (though just barely) but "petite" dresses fit me better, because they're short in the waist, like me. Hmm.

And now I just read that the average American woman is something like 163 lbs. (more than me? but just barely...) with a waist of over 33" (also more than me? by kind of a bit!). What?

Add to all this my extreme body dysmorphia: to myself, I look exactly the same when I'm 115 lbs and 190 lbs. I can only tell when I gain/lose weight by how my clothing fits, but I always look chubby to me, whether I am or not. Sigh.

I have no idea what's going on anymore.



*Or more, or less, depending on the designer/brand.

"...not like we thought it was!"

Jinny and I went to American Apparel yesterday.

I sort of hate contemporary fashion. I mean, I love fashion and the expression oneself through what one wears, the sociology of fashion, if you will, but...wow. Gold disco leggings.

It's not that AA (ha!) doesn't have quality basics, but their most fashionable pret-a-porter lines are just atrocious. I do see a few people wearing such things around Capitol Hill, men and women, and they are ugly. And tasteless. Blech.

It was amazingly beautiful out yesterday and it still is today. There is unseasonably warm May weather lately, leading to a "Severe Weather Warning" -- use sunblock! drink water! -- and other tips for the perpetually sun-deprived.

It's 88 out right now. And sticky. Unusual heat even for August, let alone May.

The oppressive heat seems appropriate: Big Love closes tonight, and I feel oppressed, heavy. Otherwise, I've had such a spectacular week.

This week I went to a fundraiser for a show that a friend is involved in and barely got in the door before I saw one of my former castmates inside, clearly involved in the same piece. I dashed away in a panic, quickly walking to the nearest bus stop and trying to get my heart rate back down. On my way through Fremont in the warm dusk, I stopped inside a small bookstore. Books are comfy; I understand them and feel at home with them. If I have an attack in public, frequently I manage to get around books to calm down.

I didn't do much besides skim spines as I walked around until I reached the poetry section, where, on impulse, I grabbed a fat, comprehensive Rumi translation and opened the book at random, reading the first lines that I came upon.

I thought, Yes! It isn't like I thought it was!

And I went back to find old friends, make new ones, and network. I felt powerful for the first time in a month.

When you eventually see through the veils to
how things really are, you will keep saying
again and again, "This is certainly not like
we thought it was!"

Hot.

Just a picture today.

Via Slog, thanks to the Blue Scholars.

Puff daddy.

Another note or two on the Junk Mail show last night:

When Mr. Very Nice Rock Star showed up, he unzipped his leather jacket and hoody to reveal a hand-made shirt: black with Chelsea Speed Party written on it in reddish-white puffy paint. Ava caught a glimpse at it and pulled me over during Junk Mail's set with an offended hiss, "You let him leave the house in puffy paint?!"

"Hey, I don't dress him! He's a grown-up, he dresses himself. It's probably what he wore to work."

I reported this to Mr. VNRS and he laughed and teased Ava for the rest of the night about his shirt.

Also, Junk Mail rocked.