~Boysgiving

I think on the surface what I'm about to say seems odd.  It kinda goes against all that society seems to perpetuate.  We live in a 'thin is in' culture, where the perception is that only small girls get play.  As I've mentioned before, it's something I've never subscribed to.  Maybe because I've never let that vibe define what I think I am, I put off a lil' sumthin'-sumthin' different and therefore get different results, I donno.  Frankly, I'm all tryptophan'd up from two days of eating turkey, stuffing, rolls, mac & cheese, mashed potatoes & gravy, green beans and chocolate pie, so critical thinking may be suffering from the blood flow being diverted from my brain to my tummy.  Or perhaps my hometown is just plain good for my mojo? 

Regardless of the impetus, the result was hometown boy o' rama.  I'm seriously considering moving back.  It started when a random stranger guy who was leaving the bar where I was meeting JA, her hubby J and few other folks at, walked by on his way out.  He doubled back, stood beside me and bent in to tell me that "you are really beautiful".  And kidz, ya know what isn't a sucky way to start an evening out?  When you're old?  And fat?  And honestly, not even lookin' that stellar? 

A:  A guy tellin' ya you're doin' alright.

I'm thankful for my family and friends every day.

And I am thankful for guys who feel like this:

Of course, nobody's worth or value comes from other's opinions of your exterior shell.  ...But when it's a flattering surprise, I gotta admit, it does not suck.  In fact, it's the kind of spark that can elevate your spirits.  And not that I'm all woe is me, but even though it's my second Thanksgiving without my Papa, I'm still not used to it.  It still seems odd going through such days without an integral part of someone who helped make those days special in the first damn place.  Plus, ya know, it's been since late winter/early spring since I've been coupled up, and I'd be a liar if I tried to assert that it too isn't a hole.  So a pick me up for the spirit was welcome.

We hadn't been there all that long when I saw my cousin.  ...Or who I thought was one of my cousins.  As we chatted I pointed out JA's hubby who was one of his HS classmates.  They chatted, then I mentioned to my "cousin" that his dad had been over to see Nana earlier in the week.  My "cousin" then mentioned that that was surprising as his dad had been dead for years, at which point, "well then who the hell are you" came tumbling outta my mouth.  Turns out he looked familiar not because we're related, but because he used to run around with the cousin I thought he was.  We had a laugh and then he suggested that perhaps we should consider marriage.  Since we're not in danger of producing three eyed offspring related, I'm considering his proposal.

(JA et moi having Thanksgiving Eve fun)

Then one of my ex's popped in.  Which sounds like the opportunity for less than pleasantness, however as he's a grade A, #1 guy, was a delight.  He even gave me a Thanksgiving goose (pinch on the ass).  And I ran into another HS classmate, (code name) Mr. Karaoke.

Shortly after those surprise exchanges another friend arrived, BC, who I haven't seen in a few years.  I'm not one of those girls who dislikes other women.  I have girl friends.  Some of my best friends are girls.  But because I am half dude (click) I also have many close men friends.  We're talkin' life long, I come along as part of the package deal friends.  BC and I have a long and storied past that goes back to when we were about 14.  We were talking with a few other folks, including a girl (and sister of my Birthday Buddy who I've known since grade school) and some other girl (who didn't seem to find the fact that her name was Denise Richards nearly as funny as I did) when I overheard BC state that he'd made out with each of us.  BC and I shared a heart to heart where we declared our undying love for one another.  (<- Surprise:  Not a euphemism for sex.)

I touched a few heads.  How can a girl help it with so many bald and brissily close cropped heads?  One of whom spent a bit of time trying to throw his game.  While he was cute, I don't actually live there.  But I was given a little something else to be thankful for when one of his gaggle o' guys informed me that "you have great tits".   

Then my Birthday Buddy's lil' sis tells me some boy who looks remarkably like one of her other brothers (Remember:  We're Catholic.  Everybody has 17 siblings.) wants to meet me.  I'm later introduced to him when he grabs me up and tries to slip me the tongue.

Boysgiving also included a call from Potatohead (we talk every holiday) and a lovely email from DJP.  Earlier in the week I'd thought to myself that I needed to send him a lil' message.  He's far away from home and is one of the sweetest souls I know and I wanted him to know that he was on my mind.  As I logged on to FB to send him a note, I coinkidinkily found an email from him telling me how he thinks I'm great. 

I know this night means I'm wickedly blessed and possibly living in some alternate plane where fat chicks get an abundance of guy attention of tomfoolery is a big fuckin' finger in the face of conventional thinking about the lives of big girls.  ...Chunky monkey girls are *supposed* to be sitting on the sofa eating pints of ice cream.  (And sometimes we do.   Mmmmmmm...ice cream.)  We're not *supposed* to be turning guys heads, or getting brown chicken/brown cow propositions, or marriage proposals.  (But sometimes we do.)  Boysgiving is contrary to a lot of peoples perceptions about being a big girl, but it's the reality, and a signifier that it's time for conventional thinking and society's impressions and stereotypes to catch the fuck up.  And a signifier, as LB2'd and Mrs. Mackey phrase it, that "be who you is" is a far better mindset and more productive than obsessing about the thin thighs you're not. 

~Boysgiving