We all already know I’m a fat girl.. I accept it, even if others don’t.  I used to thimk I was pretty, but when my sex life activates once a year (if I’m lucky), I start figuring that fat isn’t enough to explain it.  I must be ugly, too, or otherwise unattractive.  I don’t always feel this way, but when no one is interested in what I have to offer, I start thinking, “it can’t always be them, it must be me.”

Clearly it’s me or I wouldn’t be so damned lonely ALL the fucking time.

But for some reason, I keep trying.  I go out, I put myself out there, I give guys my number… And even if they never call, at least I’m trying, right?  At least I haven’t given up, right?. Chalk it up to eternal optimism, or maybe Einstein’s definition of insanity.

Recently, though, I’ve seen a new development.  A friend keeps getting in my way, but only when she’s drunk.. She’s like a dude on the prowl.  She’s not interested until/unless I am, and then she swoops in to steal him, and, you know, I don’t get it.  She doesn’t want them the next day, when she’s sober, but I don’t want her cast offs.  It’s depressing.  I’m old, and fat, and apparently unattractive.  There’s no sport in it.  Of course a younger, thinner, arguably prettier girl will win against me.  I just don’t really need or want to be reminded of it, especially by someone calling herself my friend.

*sigh*

It’s a neverending October right now.  It’s in the mid-to-high 40′s, there’s no snow, it gets dark early and there’s no white blanket to offset the darkness.  It’s a pre-apocalyptic wasteland at night, and it only makes me sad, not jolly.

I’m really worried about the way the climate is changing.  Whether or not it’s anthropogenic (human-driven) or simply part of a planetary cycle, it doesn’t feel like it’s going to be a good thing for anyone, and I can’t shake the feeling that this is something to get used to.

Of course, maybe I’m overreacting.  Maybe it’s just El Nino, or La Nina or whatever weird weather patterns are cyclical, but it doesn’t feel like the first day of winter.  It doesn’t feel like the new year is approaching.  It just feels…  like October, and I don’t really like October weather all that much if it doesn’t come with brilliant foliage.

One of the things I like about living in this region of the country is having four distinct seasons.  I feel gypped out of winter so far…

Happily, the Influenster website provided a direct link to Montagne Jeunesse (for the US site, click here).  Otherwise, it would never have occurred to me to find them online (let alone follow them on social media!).  I love what their masques do – hydrate, deep clean, and nourish, leaving a soft, smooth glow to the skin.  This Strawberry Souffle, in particular, was exactly what I needed and wanted before going for a night on the town, and I didn’t even know it until I tried it out.

Hands down, what I love the best about this product line is that in the “how to use” directions, it spells out “Relax”.  This is a pampering product, vegetarian approved and never tested on animals.  You can feel good about using it, even as you feel good while using it.  And now, with the website finally being right in my face, I have a way to pick up all the flavors I can’t find in local stores!  Sold.

“Hrmm, it’s a lip gloss,” was my first thought when I opened the box.  I’m not big into lip color, but I knew that this time of year has me more made up more often than usual, so I knew I’d use it.  I got a neutral nude shade, which bored me.  If I’m going to put color on my face, I want to put color on my face.  I tried on the gloss, which made my lips shiny, but little else.  This wasn’t the right choice for a night on the town.

Or was it?

Recently, I bought a lip liner in a shade as close to my natural color as I could find, and, as a liner, it’s the right color, but it’s pink (with blue undertones) enough that if I fill in my lips with it, it’s a lovely, light shade that looks mostly natural.  Putting the lipshine on top of it?  Uh-maze-ing.  Gorgeous effect, and one that was completely unexpected.  It’s better than any other color I have in my arsenal.

New York Color Liquid Lipshine.  It smells amazing and is shiny and glossy without being *too* much.  Again, I’m not big into lip color, but I like this enough to want to try some of the berry/pink-blue hues to see if they make a dramatic enough change to my natural color.  I”m not sure that lip gloss is something I’ll be converted to, but I’m willing to make the effort.

imPRESS press-on manicure by Broadway Nails is a fun way to try out nail art that you might not otherwise play with.  While I find them a little long for my taste, that’s really only an issue because of the design I received (Wink), which is at the long end of the nail and would be wrecked if I tried to trim it.  I plan to try another set so I can see if it is possible to trim them down with solids or other patterns.

It has been years since I wore press-on nails, and this is the first time since I broke the habit of chewing on my nails.  I have gotten nothing but compliments, and surprise that they aren’t real.  Product testing, I’ve found, is an excellent way for my friends to learn about new, cool products.  I always share the fun ones with my friends so they will know what’s available and this was no exception.

In addition to a night on the town, I’ve done a lot with the nails on.  I’m hard on my hands, and particularly on my manicure.  I soaked in a hot bath, washed dishes, cleaned up messes, cooked a few meals, and my “nails” are none the worse for the wear.

The verdict?  I’ll buy them for a special occasion or because I’m in need of a pretty little pick-me-up and something pretty to look at while I type.  I can be harder on these than a standard manicure, but they’re so long that they get in my way a little bit.  Special occasions, for sure, though.  At $5.99-7.99, it’s a little pricey for day-to-day wear.  That said, it’s cheaper than a manicure if they continue to last as long as these have, but significantly less pampering an experience.

**UPDATE**

Last night (Wednesday), I peeled the nails off.  I’m not sure why, but the tips had turned blue (I’m 100% sure it was something I did, but I don’t know what) and they length of them was just getting in my way.  They peeled off really easily and painlessly.  My nails are whole and healthy and undamaged underneath.  They lasted a solid 5 (almost 6) days, which is almost a little too much.  I’ll definitely try them again, but next time with slightly better planning on my part, and hopefully a pattern that can be trimmed back.

Well-rested and on time, I left the house to 50 degree weather.  “Nice day for a court date” , I thought to myself.  I left plenty of time to get a cup of coffee and take the bus over and arrived at the courthouse a few minutes early.

There was an assembly of everyone in front of the courthouse and one of the lawyers was explaining what we all could expect – how long it would take, what the end result would be.  I didn’t know it at the time, but he gave us the exact script that we would hear over and over again.  They took a roll call, and while we were missing a good number of people, we still had quite a mob.  this time, I had remembered to  bring my cards with me, so I was able to share contact information with the people I felt a connection with.

I was dressed as  I generally do, professional with a bit of fun in it.  I was surprised by the sheer number of people wearing ripped jeans, scrubby t-shirts or otherwise not dressed for court.  Fewer than half of our group was dressed (in my opinion) “for court”, and more than a few of them commented that “I should have dressed better…”  Let me be clear, though, it wasn’t just the jeans that felt underdressed, it was the ripped, dirty jeans.  It was the complete lack of effort put forth.  I overheard a few people talking about how they had forgotten about court and almost didn’t make it (on time).  I don’t understand how this happens.  You make a conscious decision to get arrested and then forget that you did?  I’m not sure what that was about.

Around 9:30, we started filing into the court house.  There was one open door and a single metal detector.  And 56 of us.  It took a while, but the security guards were patient and friendly.  Once through the machines, we filed into the large courtroom, where we found it to be standing room only.  However, the problem was the signs posted around the room that read “NO STANDING INSIDE THE COURTROOM”, and it was enforced.  The judge asked the room to scootch together, but there were simply not enough seats.  Several people were told to wait in the hall.

The early cases were largely amusing.  I’ve only been to this courthouse once before, but I remember thinking then that I could spend an entire day, just listening to the silliness that ensues when some of these people appear before the judge.  This judge was a lot of fun to watch, too.  He has an excellent sense of humor (and sense of the absurd).

One of our guys was called up, then told to sit back down, then called up again, then told to sit, then one more time, called up and told to sit back down.  This was someone I felt I had connected with (and had passed my contact info to) and I felt bad for him.  He’s just a regular guy (much like me and a few others I connected with), and for him to be the one up and down and up and down wasn’t as funny as I would have found it had it been someone else.  The problem was that there were so many of us arrested with OA that they wanted to bundle us together, and just take us in the order we appeared in the pile (which was not the order in which we were arrested).

They called us up one or two at a time.  Both our attorneys and the ADA appeared to be working off of a script, speaking the exact same words each time.  Our attorneys cycled, presumably so no one lawyer had to fill out the dismissal paperwork on the other side of things.  The ADA spoke faster and faster with each new person, since the words were exactly the same – not prosecuting us because there were no allegations of violence nor any property damage.

Two hours in, the room was chastised by one of the guards for being too loud and interrupting the recording.  The response that garnered the best reaction was “Tell the judge to stop telling jokes, then.”  There were posted handwritten signs around reading “No TALKING in the courtroom”, but with that many people knowing that the entire show is really just a game, that wasn’t going to happen.  We tried to be reasonable, but there was no way we were going to be silent.

At 41 people down, the judge asked if there were any other OA folks who had not yet been called up.  10-15 hands shot up.  “Only those whose name I haven’t called…”  and all the hands stayed up.  A handful of those people were not Occupiers, but people waiting for their own, unrelated, appearance, who misunderstood the question.  We were asked to present our appearance tickets, but then they found a second pile of files for the rest of us.

All told, it took about as long to go through the court process as it did to get arrested in the first place.  The final occupier was dismissed at just about noon – three hours later.  Those who stayed for the full time were given some information about “where do we go from here” and what the possible consequences were.

I came away from it feeling like Cuomo had seriously wasted a huge amount of taxpayer dollars, gumming up the local justice system in trying to make a point that he’s bigger than us.  I do put that entirely on Cuomo.  However, at this point, I feel that getting arrested for the same issue would put that responsibility on me.  Additional arrests, at this point, no longer make a statement, and only serve to put us in the position of wasting those taxpayer dollars.  There was no excuse to clear the park across the imaginary line, and I still feel it is an infringement on the right to peaceably assemble, but continuing to force the issue doesn’t make Cuomo look any worse, it actually makes him look like someone who “sticks to his guns”, which is often a political positive.

So I won’t be seeking out arrest again.  Certainly not in the same place for the same issue.  However, having gone through the process, I would do it again for another cause I feel passionately about.

And I am sure that there will be more causes to stand up for.  From what I hear, this is far from over.

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I milled around with a whole lot of other people until around 10:15, when I finally asked myself “Why am I waiting for someone to tell me what to do?  This is a leaderless movement,” and walked across the imaginary line to the state-owned park.  There, I found a few people setting up an altar.  We introduced ourselves and got to talking.  J offered to “anoint me” with amber oil.  I do love the smell of amber, so I said okay, and he blessed me to keep me safe from negative energy.

The processional shortly followed.  There was a lot of fanfare and something of a parade as the OA protesters paraded the long way around the perimeter of the park, then to the memorial in the center.  They had drums and were chanting and, frankly, I was glad that I was already at the protest site.  The theatrics didn’t seem to be for the media, they seemed to be something else, and I was okay not being a part of that.

Some people spoke, others led chants, drums were banged and people were just hanging out, largely celebrating.  My reporter friend came and found me, then interviewed me for the local news.  Again, I was complimented on my articulation.

The thing is, I don’t look like a stereotypical protestor.  I just don’t fit that mold of a dredlocked, camping, dirty, unemployed, entitled, hippie or student.  I’m a professional woman, dressed professionally (as anyone who knows me already knows I tend to dress in a way that makes people ask if I have a job interview or date), standing up for something I believe in.  In fact, the handful of other straight-laced (looking) folks who were there to get arrested gravitated to me (and vice-versa), but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Close to 11pm, some OA people warned everyone that if they didn’t want to get arrested, they needed to leave the park, then, those planning to stay and get arrested, lined up along the perimeter, staying on the grass and faced off with the police.  Now, personally, I disagree with this.  I didn’t like the lining up business, and I wasn’t about the catcalling of the police.  I felt that it would have been a much more powerful statement to have simply stayed inside the park (really inside it), going about our business, instead of daring the police to arrest us for being on the grass, but…  not my decision.

There were a bunch of state troopers on the sidewalk.  I didn’t count them until much later, but certainly in the double digits.  What surprised me when the arrests finally started, though (a good 30+ minutes after the curfew was supposedly in force) was that three troopers came into the crowd, chose their target and arrested him.  They put him in a police car and it drove off.  Then we all waited.

Oh yes, we ALL waited.  They arrested one man and had no other vehicles in the area.  About 10 minutes later, three troopers came in again and arrested…  one man.  This went on for about the first hour, leading to chants of “Two at a time!  Two at a time!”, and “This.  Is.  Shockingly Inefficient.”, as well as complaints about the waste of gas and, frankly, taxpayer dollars.

For the first two hours, it seemed that there was only one car, taking one person over to the concourse, then coming back for another guy.  When I did finally count the number of troopers milling around on the sidewalk, I counted twenty.  This was after about half of our group had been arrested.  I have no idea whose plan this was, but it was more than a little ridiculous.

And we were bored, and cold.  The group got a little punchy and, at one point, started lapping the park, skipping and frolicking in a circle, just for something to do and “to get the blood pumping”.  Pizza was ordered, blankets were offered.  Folks not getting arrested were coming back and forth onto the grass to chat with friends.

There seemed to be a method to the troopers madness of who they arrested.  They solely arrested men until the group started chanting “arrest some chicks!  Arrest some chicks!” and a few female troopers were brought in.  They focused on “dirty hippie” types and students, while completely ignoring those of us who were well-dressed, well-kempt or middle aged (or older).  At this point, I decided that the amber anointing was doing TOO good a job at protecting me from negative energy and said as much to J, who laughed.  Meanwhile, as they ramped up the arrests to 2-3 at a time, every time they took someone next to or immediately in front of me, while completely ignoring me.  That was when I started thinking that all I had to do was last until the curfew ended at 6am.

I also started wondering if they would have arrested me if I simply sat with a book or magazine on a bench, minding my own business.  Would they break up a friendly card game that just happened to occur after 11pm?  The arrested occupiers started coming back less than an hour in, not to get arrested again, but to support those of us still there.  A splinter group went and occupied Capitol Park, across the street and shouted about how they were also breaking curfew, right?  Why not come and get them?

Meanwhile, I chatted with my fellow protestors.  I realized my biggest mistake was not bringing my cards with me, so I wasn’t able to share my blog link, phone number or other contact information, which was disappointing, particularly since one of the folks I was chatting with was an adorable guy, close to my age.  But also some very interesting women who were a lot of fun to talk to.  Oh well, I’m sure I’ll see them all on our court date, but again, I’m getting ahead of myself.

I was eventually around number 42 to be arrested.  They saved me for near the end, and I can only believe it’s because I don’t look the part.  They also saved two older women who had a long history of being arrested while standing up for their constitutional rights, the ringleader of the curfew-breaking push and 67-year-old Rose, who didn’t become an activist until recently.

We all cooperated to the fullest and the police were as gentle and friendly as they could be.  They were also largely curious about why we were doing this and what we hoped to achieve.  As they heard the different stories from the different people as to why we were there, I could see their minds opening and their opinions (largely un-formed or knowingly uninformed) shifting a little.

They brought in troopers from other areas, like Cobleskill and Catskill, and they honestly didn’t understand entirely why they were there.

I was not fingerprinted, but I was asked a lot of questions, like to describe my tattoos, what my social security number is, am I employed and where…  the whole processing took about 30 minutes.  We were issued appearance tickets for November 29 and sent on our way.  On the way out we all met one of the lawyers who explained the process we were likely to face.  I called a cab and wound up chatting with 67 y/o Rose while I waited to go home.  I got home around 4am, way too wired to sleep, but physically exhausted.  It was, overall an experience worth having.

All that said, I have a few criticisms for Occupy folks.  First, to students:  You are not the center of the universe.  Your statements that “all the good people are getting arrested” is amazingly insulting to those of us who have actually lived our lives and might have something to lose from this.  We’re not doing this to have something to tell our kids 20 years from now, and your narrow focus of “Save our SUNY” makes you all look like selfish, entitled idiots.

Second, to all occupiers:  While I agree that curfews like this are an infringement on our First Amendment rights, they are not an infringement on “free speech”.  They are an infringement on “the right to peaceably assemble”.  You may consider this semantics, and I know that “free speech” has better cadence in chants, but you’re standing up for an equally important clause in the first amendment.  Do not belittle that, and don’t mislead yourself and others that your speech is being stifled.  It is not.  It is your right to assemble that is being directly threatened.  It’s hard (for me) to take people seriously when they claim to be fighting for the wrong thing.

So that’s my story.  I got arrested, but in the most ridiculous manner I could imagine.  My court date is in a little over a week, and there are rumors that Governor Cuomo is going to appoint a special prosecutor.  I kind of hope he does.  Standing up like this doesn’t mean as much if it doesn’t come with risks.  Tresspass (which I did) and Disturbing the Peace (which I do not feel I did) are very minor charges, not even misdemeanors, but I’d be willing to fight it if there was a reason to do so.  I don’t feel that my presence on state land in downtown Albany after 11pm was, in any way, wrong.  Particularly when known and posted curfews in other parks are not enforced.  But we’ll see what happens as this plays out.

You know I”ll be blogging it.

My first reaction to this was scorn.  The leader of the movement to get arrested for “breaking curfew” clearly stated that his reason for doing so was to get more media attention.  We’ve heard since the 60′s that “the revolution will not be televised” and I’ve always taken that as a truth, particularly in this internet age, where blogs and live streams and podcasts are as, if not more, effective than the mainstream media.  I did not support the idea of getting arrested to garner media attention and felt that bad press was exactly what the Occupy movements did not need.

And then the evictions happened in Zuccotti Park.  Sure, in that situation, it was Mayor Bloomberg who made things happen, but we’re all the same state here and Cuomo supports Bloomberg’s actions, and is the force behind the decision to arrest peaceful protestors, peaceably assembling in Albany.  When the Zuccotti Park/Occupy Wall Street evictions happened, I became extremely concerned.  Not only were peaceable assemblies being violently disrupted, journalists were told to stay a block away, fully around the park.  The space above the park was declared a “no-fly zone” so that news helicopters couldn’t get footage of the eviction, and several journalists were arrested because they dared to try to document the actions of the police toward a mostly peaceful movement.

Let’s be clear about that – they arrested reporters for reporting on current events.

And that scares the hell out of me.  That curfews imposed and undocumented are used to remove peaceable assemblies;  that free speech is stifled after 11pm;  that a free press is disabled during a major news event.  This is not okay with me.  If we lose our First Amendment rights, we have lost everything, even if it takes us some time to realize it.  If we lose our First Amendment rights, we have lost our government, our country and our history.  And I am willing to be arrested to stand up to those who seek to take away those rights.

I am 36 years old.  I have a full time job.  I have successfully raised a child to adulthood.  I pay my taxes.  I pay my student loans.  I have excellent health insurance through my employer.  I invest in a 401k.  Last quarter, I put $346 into my 401k, which lost $526 in the same quarter.  I live in a cheap apartment in a bad neighborhood and I still live paycheck to paycheck.

I am the 99%.

And then something changed.  I don’t think it was anything that I actively did.  I don’t think that I’ve made any recent changes in my life, but all of a sudden, things just started to fall into place.

Okay, so I’m trying to be better about not discounting my own actions in positive things, so let’s reassess.  I joined an online group that has local meetings.  I still consider those people “imaginary friends”, but they are becoming more and more real.  I haven’t changed anything about working my co-op shifts, but maybe that’s just the sort of thing that takes time.  The funny thing is that in both of those places, I’ve made friends that moved out of state shortly after we connected and were drawn to each other, so I’m getting a little of both.

But then I sought out a photographer and wound up connecting with someone I went to high school with, but never actually knew, and it turns out we’re really compatible.  I like her and she likes me and we have decided to become friends.  It was really that simple, but it took a long time for us to go from running into each other in a bar to becoming Facebook friends to actually finding a reason to get together and find out if we liked each other.

I’m also starting to see people who are conditional friends moving into a less conditional role.  For example, some of my “co-op friends” are becoming just “friends” and we’re moving away from the single location and getting together after hours and offsite.  This is so refreshing, and one of them is someone I’ve been interacting with for almost 2 years now, we just never managed to speak up and say “You know, I want to hang out with you outside of this context.”

I’m a little reluctant to write about this, because I’m hoping I’m at the very early stages of a positive social trend in my life.  This weekend alone, I have plans on Friday with new friends, Saturday with my (6 years older than me) aunt, Sunday with a friend from out of town (and one of my favorite people) and the fellas through which we met.  And that’s just this weekend.  Coming up I still have my regular, standing movie night; another planned photo shoot; the seedlings of events through my online community and who knows what all else?

I feel like I’m finally starting to meet the people who will fill the gaps.  I need girls to go to bars with me so that I”m not there alone as the “poor thing” or “brave girl” who came without a safety net of friends.  It’s not that I need the net, it’s that I don’t need the pity.  I need friends who will have adventures with me, whether that means walking around the streets of Albany for hours on end or checking out that sketchy dive bar that just opened up.

And I’m finally starting to get it.  What a nice change of pace.