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Between Selfie & Self-Flagellation

Posted on March 5, 2014

When I was in high school I would pour through the pages of Elle magazine, carefully tearing out the images that spoke to me to tape on my wall. I created a collage that was equal parts aspiration and self-flagellation. I was not those women, but I might be able to be like those women. It was the era of the supermodel and I gravitated to the women who were boldly described as breaking from the mold of typical model. They were big and athletic. Yet in all my searching I never found a report of a model weighing what I did—big was crossing the 115lb threshold. Athletic was having a curve behind their shin, not shoulders that invited, “Wow, you must be a swimmer” comments.…

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Something Else

Posted on March 2, 2014

Dinner was late; my plan to bake a chicken was thwarted by a conversation that ran long. Doing the what-to-make scramble, I grabbed a package of ground beef from the freezer, a box of linguine noodles and fixings for a halfway-homemade sauce. “Can we do the beds?” I asked. Sean looked at me, he was tired, but he nodded. “Yep, let’s do it.” We’d agreed to deconstruct the bunk beds so that the girls’ room could get refreshed and so that maybe, just maybe, Ave would be able to make her bed. The top bunk, as Bethany can attest, is challenging on the best day, debilitatingly maddening on the worst. “I bumped my head and my finger is bleeding.” Ave and I have both…

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