wanna know a secret?

You are reading http://livinginthehood.blogspot.com

Last summer, I had to listen, many afternoons, to my neighbor, Raoul and his buddies, gossiping about me.

They said horrible things.

These people don't even know me. They wrote me off as soon as they figured out I'm: not a party girl, low income, not their idea of attractive.

Now, they can't hear me, because their music is loud and they shout over it.

But I had to hear them. I could hear them from all the way back here in my bedroom, with the air conditioner on and the doors and windows closed.

So, I was bombarded with the nastiest epithets, insults, prejudices and hate, directed at me, and had to endure it in silence.

No WAY I was going to go out there and CONFRONT that bunch of coked-out, drunken pigs!

Well, as you know, I visited the clinic recently and became concerned about my nutrition.

Even before I went to the clinic, I'd begun exercising with home-made weights. I was feeling week from a winter of relative inactivity and was finding it harder and harder to walk.

I have this fantasy.

I want to be in good shape, by summer. Except for my poor, abused belly and a hint of double chin, I'm not out-of-proportion by much.

But my belly has prevented me from dressing the way I like. I have nice clothes, but I can't wear them. I'm embarrassed.

The belly's not my fault, true. It's a combination of losing the baby and -- apparantly -- an ovarie, lousy diet, physical weakness and probably perimenopause. Not to mention that both my mother and grandmother were VERY substantial women, but they were also very self-endulgent.

I want the whole, damned building full of drunks and junkies to see me, out in my garden, dressed nicely and looking good!

I want them to choke on every ugly, hateful, cruel, dismissive, racist, sexist, homophobic word that ever came out of their filthy mouthes about me!

I want to be able to surround myself with my flowers, critters and art and look trim, smooth, well dressed and just as beautiful as everything else about my life.

My body is a reflection of abuse and neglect: from others, yes, but from myself, too. Because I didn't really believe I deserved, or could have, better.

So, I'm working hard at this. Every soda I don't drink is 160 calories of pure sugar, not to mention the sodium.

I look at my daily food consumption and realize I've been right: I don't eat much. In fact, I eat as much in a whole day as some people eat at one crap meal at McDummies.

All the walking has got to help. I hope. I come home so tired I can't do anything else for the rest of the day, but I'm hoping that'll go away after awhile. I hope.

I'm on my own here. There's nobody to nurse me, bail me out, pat my back, give me a hug or just help. I need to be as strong and healthy as I can be.

And, if I can drop a few jaws in the process, that's ok by me.

I've always been a modest person in my dress....in public, anyway. I don't flash my cleavage or anything. I fear being victimized, for one thing. But I also want to be approached as a person, rather than as eye candy. I have spiritual and cultural reasons, too.

So don't expect anything slutty or revealing...in public.

But to stand in my yard, looking and feeling healthy, and have those gossiping turnips see me and feel like the fools they are....that would be satisfying.