The last week was really busy and fun.
A friend from my former life (when I worked) came over and cooked for us Friday. It was so much fun, with the music cranked up, dancing around the kitchen, making great food.
As a general rule, I try never to eat things bigger than my head, because they tend to cling to my ass and make me faint when I step on the scale.
I made an exception for real Italian style meatballs in tomato/vodka/cream sauce, served with pasta she had brought back from Italy. I have never met a carbohydrate I didn’t like, and this was NO exception, ziti as long as regular spaghetti. It held up the tennis ball sized meatballs. If anyone wants the recipie I'll post it. Let me know.
We had to invite another couple over at the last minute because we had made so much food, even considering that I have a 14-year-old boy who would eat the paint off the walls. At one point at the table he said, “I think I hurt myself. I have to stop for a few minutes.” We all about died laughing.
So thank you, LB, for a great evening. You are the best.
Cut to ramble about being invisible…
My friend and I started talking about the point when women become invisible. Has it happened to you yet? She’s 32, and really pretty, ultra very visible. I’m going to be 51 in Feb and have reached the invisible stage.
It happened so gradually I didn’t notice until I had to start yelling “I’m standing right here!”
Looking at childhood pictures, I am amazed at how visible I was. I was the oldest child, and grandchild on either side of the family, and in my corner of the world the only girl. All family snapshots of the kids has me front and center, a foot taller than anyone else (5’7 in 6th grade), skinny like Olive Oyl, with masses of curly hair. That general look continued through my 20’s. It made me visible. I didn’t realize how lucky I was till it was gone.
The start of invisibility for me was pregnancy. No one notices a tremendously pregnant woman on metro. I’d lumber over to the nearest 50 year old white guy, step on his toes and bellow “get up and give my your seat.” It always worked, even if the guy never looked at me. I highly recommend it.
I learned something else from being pregnant. As I got heavier, people didn’t notice me. The more space I took up, the less people looked at me, unless it was to sneer a little. Racism is ok if you are only prejudiced against fat people? What kind of shit is that?
Mothers are invisible too, unless their kids are behaving so badly that they have to deal with the little darling in public. Cue the disapproving looks and comments. Circumstances don’t matter, you are just wrong in the most visible way.
I guess if I had been a “hottie Mom” in a short skirt and push up bra, someone might have noticed. No thanks. Never could wear the shoes even when I had the body. I notice those women, and admire their stamina. I notice any really well put together woman, and think good for you. If you are young and reading this, enjoy your visibility. Revel in it and have fun while it lasts. But don’t base your whole self-esteem on your looks. It won’t make you happy, as you get older. Family, friends and satisfying work counts way more in the happiness equation.
I notice elderly people. I loved my Grandparents, and miss them. That keeps me holding doors and assisting people with walkers, etc to this day. Older people have it even tougher than overweight people, in my humble opinion.
I made a scene in a bank the other day. I tracked down a man who had honked his horn at a woman with a walker in the parking lot. I was in the car behind him and caught him in the lobby of the building. Boy Howdie, I don’t think I have ever been that mad. I’m surprised my eyeballs didn’t pop out and twirl. He’ll have nightmares about me for a while.
I’m mainly invisible, 50 and gray haired, slightly overweight. People see me after I start talking to them, but not before. Teenage boys don’t notice me until I become a credible threat, like when I catch them doing something they shouldn’t.
Two years ago, I caught a wealthy boy from my ‘hood pandering for change at a metro stop. He loomed over me and asked for “a dollar”. Didn’t notice I was a neighbor. He sure as hell noticed my hand yanking his ear. I marched the little shit home and told his parents how he was “intimidating old women like me, asking them for money.” I’m real visible to him now, but no way was I letting that behavior slide. Run away, evil bitch approaching.
I really, really think I’d be a good CIA operative, able to go anywhere and never be noticed. I'd be the perfect assassin.