So much to discuss.

First off, let's discuss my last post about honesty. I received several responses in my private email. They all had the same theme. It was okay with everyone that I wrote something that I couldn't find the honesty to post. It's very nice of everyone to be so forgiving but I sort of feel as if they missed the reasoning behind it. The post was about me being overweight. I am between 9 and 15 pounds overweight depending on which website you are consulting. My weight has always fluctuated but when I'm on the heavier side, I'm always unhappy. I don't feel physically or emotionally comfortable. I have no trouble admitting I'm a little tubby. The problem with the post was that if I were to push the "post" button, I would have to publicly admit several things that I already know about myself, but if you were to read the post, you would come to these conclusions about me. I don't want people to come to the conclusions and think I'm trying to hide it and feel as if they are clever for figuring it out. Turns out I feel more comfortable just blurting it out than letting my writing speak for itself. Here it is...

1. I'm vain. My looks mean something to me. I have never felt I was attractive but at the same time, rare were the instances that I really felt truly ugly. I've always felt average. Now, I'm feeling ugly way more often and I hate it. If I hate it, then that means looks are something that I feel is important but my value system tells me vanity is an unattractive characteristic. So, I have to deal with the weight and a really ugly trait that I have learned I possess. Double whammy.

2. I'm a big (fat) hypocrite. Seriously, my hypocrisy runneth over. Were I to hear a comment about another woman being heavy or fat or whatever, I will be the first to rip the commenter a new one. I would be only too happy to point out that the commenter has no idea about said woman's personality and maybe she is a wonderful person and maybe she is a much better person than the commenter who is obviously petty and shallow. Then I turn around and decide I don't want to be fat. Fat is bad. What? I don 't believe that. If I'm such a defender of the fact that women are beautiful in all shapes and sizes, then why can't I be any size? And I am a defender. There is this woman who comes into the library where I work. She is black and 50 pounds or so overweight and drop dead gorgeous. One of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. My eyes follow her around the room and I wish I could be her. Her skin is the most amazing shade. She literally glows. So, to sum up, fat is okay for others but I wouldn't be caught dead carrying extra pounds. Am I really like that? How does one live with really being like that? Why can't I just live with the weight? I'm still well within healthy ranges. Boyfriend loves me. Why do I care? Why? Anyone?

So those are the two big things. Vanity and hypocrisy. Oh, and the weight. All of these are very heavy. I'm going for light. I want to be light physically and emotionally. I want to be a good, skinny person and I'm not sure those two can go together with me.

Here are two good things, however, that make me feel light. Things that make the weight matter a little less. (Warning: my own horn is about to be tooted but it's few and far between so I'm entitled)

First, a family came into the library yesterday. There is a father and two young kids, Kai and Eden. Both kids are the sweetest little peanuts. Both are inquisitive and smart. I have spent many hours perusing the stacks with them, trying to find the perfect books. I introduced Eden to The Velveteen Rabbit because she had a small stuffed rabbit that she had rubbed smooth. Kai is a little sponge. He'll absorb anything I hand to him. I've had many good times with them. They came in yesterday to tell me the family was moving to Monterey. I was very sad. I'm really going to miss them. The good part is the father pulled me aside to thank me. That's right, thank me. He said that I and the library had been an invaluable part of the kids' lives. He wanted to tell me how much he appreciated the time and love I had given to his children and that I had really made a difference. Did you guys hear that? A difference. I made a difference. I made these kids' lives better. Me. I'm sorry, was I saying something about body image? Do I even have a body? Who cares. I made little lives better. Sweet, beautiful, full of potential lives. There is no high like that.

Second, I had a party at the library today to welcome the after-school teens back. I was told recently that I was the teen librarian even though no position exists. I earned this title by, well, paying attention to teen services. But I will tell you that teens and I have a very turbulent relationship. There is a great deal of the time that I hate the little punks. They are frustrating and annoying and I'd really like smack their smart-ass mouths sometimes. At the same time, I believe that they are a population that is discarded in libraries, especially mine. Several years ago, I put together a teen advisory committee that in turn built a "teen zone" for the kids. However, we never provided any programming. I couldn't understand why but I was part time so I couldn't do anything about it. Now, I can. I just finished busting my ass and fighting some major battles to get public performance rights so I could show the teens movies, to get a television for the library and getting my hands on a Wii gaming system for them. I planned programs through December, at least one a week. I worked hard and I don't admit to effort often. I like to make things look easy. The kick-off to all this was today. I ordered pizza and got soda and set up the new television with my own personal laptop so they could show YouTube videos on the big screen. 30 some teenagers that hated me last spring due to my disciplinary ways loved me today. They were engaged and excited and polite and curious. They were the teens I wanted to deal with. We laughed and joked and chatted. I even got hugged several times. The tide may be turning and it would be due to my hard work. That rocks. That rocks big time.

Wow, that was long post for me but I've been waxing philosophical lately. Couldn't be helped.