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I'll be reading Growing Up with Tamales for story time at Blue Willow Bookshop, in Houston, on Thursday morning, May 15. Tell everyone you know with kids in the Houston area. How do you find and support local indie book stores like Blue Willow? By going to Booksense.

On Saturday, May 17, I'll be in Dallas, reading and signing at the J. Erik Jonsson Central Library, for the 13th Dallas Children’s Book Fair & Literary Festival.

On June 22, here in Houston, I'm going to do a poetry workshop. It's free and open to the public, y'all, and they're having one every Sunday in June, taught by local poets I love and respect. So come on down.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006
I'm going on strike.

From now on, whenever I'm with a woman and she starts whining about the way she looks, I'm just going to say, "Stop it."

I'm not talking about general discussions on hair color and pretty things to wear. I'm talking about the self-hate. You know what I mean.

Don't tell me about how fat you are, or how you're trying to lose the fat. Stop it.

Don't tell me that your hair didn't come out right, or what you did to try to make it right. Stop it.

Don't show me every piece of evidence that you're getting old, and then tell me every single thing you're doing to make it look like you aren't. Stop it!

I don't need to hear the run down of all your unfavorite body parts.

I don't need every single detail of how unsatisfied and unhappy you are every single time you look in the mirror.

Don't just stop talking about it. For the love of God, please stop thinking about it. Please, please. Otherwise, what are you going to talk about when you really do get old? What would you talk about if you were in an accident (knock on wood) and lost all your limbs? And your face? And your boobs?

If you believe in immortal souls, what will your soul talk about after it's left your body? The fact that it has a saggier butt than the other souls? The fact that it wished it'd had more time to style its soul-hair?

Stop making yourself miserable. And stop boring me, please. Because I love you and I want you to worry about better things.

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8:33 AM #

Comments:

 AMEN sister!!!!


# posted by Blogger pixielyn : 8:42 AM  

 Shit... my soul has a butt? Now, I REALLY need to lose weight. I wonder what percent soul fat I'm at? You know what? I bet you that I'm not fat at all... I just have an overweight soul.


# posted by Blogger Tiffany : 9:39 AM  

 Thank you, thank you, thank you. I've been looking for a way to say this, and you said it about 10x better than I ever could. I'll be on the picket line with you.


# posted by Blogger Susan : 10:20 AM  

 If I meet you in heaven and you notice my saggy-assed soul Gwen dont you DARE breathe a word of soul sagging gossip to anyone else up there EITHER!!
*snarfle* just thought of this in the car and had to run in and add it.


# posted by Blogger pixielyn : 11:16 AM  

 Whenever I have these self-pity/self-aware moments, I stop and think, 'Well, five years from now, I will be wishing I look the way I look now, so I better zip it and enjoy it'

I try to tell this to my friends too.


# posted by Blogger LC : 12:05 PM  

 Gwen,

I hear you, and I'll stop it. I'll stop for you. My self-critical, vain, staring-inthemirror for days slumps will stop. I will stop being obsessed with myself and start... I don't know, reading, or something.

Thank you for the inspiration to stop being such a ninny.

Rose


# posted by Blogger olive & rose : 11:25 PM  

 P.S. Did you see the O'hara? Lana Turner has collapsed! Or the Homes story? Or that other thing I gave you? (..what was the other thing I gave you?)


# posted by Blogger olive & rose : 11:26 PM  

 Gwen, Long time between posts..sorry.

Thank you thank you thank you thank you for the rant. I endure this every day and it gets harder to stop from blurting out STFU.

Still toiling in 2 Allen Center


# posted by Blogger Boschka : 11:58 AM  

 Damn, that was good. I think I hear angels singing!


# posted by Blogger CJ : 1:00 PM  

 I like your philosophy!!


# posted by Blogger Pinche Gata : 7:27 PM  

 Hi Gwen,

I've actually stopped asking my husband "do I look fat in this?" Because he always says "yes" anymore.

Well, yeah I'm heavy so I look fat in everything so why bother asking? (I've actually stopped dieting and lost weight.)

All I ask now is "do I look okay in this?" That's good enough for me.

Janice~


# posted by Blogger Janice : 11:35 PM  

 Pixie: :)

Bev: Ha.

Susan: You go. I've been trying to say it for years to various people, and it took writing this down to crystalize the thoughts.

Pixie: I probably won't be there, though. I'll probably be in hell, unfortunately, with a firm hardbody soul and a box of donuts. Oh, and on fire.

LC: That is a good one.

Rose: Ha. And, no, I've only been reading the KGB so far. And, as you now know, I can't remember if I read the Homes out of that one. I am packing your books in the car when I move, so I can have them near and not lose them in boxes.

Boschka: :) Give my regards to the A2.

CJ: :)
No, wait - :D

Gata: Thanks.

Janice: You shouldn't even ask him that. You should just ask him, "Does this outfit make you want to have sex with me, or should I take it off?"


# posted by Blogger Gwen : 4:00 PM  

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