Eat the Damn Cake

Maggie: What do you think about all this recent news about plus sized models?

Kate: First off, does anyone understand this article about plus sized models  in the Huffington Post?

I just checked out a blog for and about plus sized models. I’m developing a little bit of a gripe about this topic. On the one hand, hooray! (And I really don’t mean to minimize the hooray-ing. Ok, maybe minimize it, but not x out of it. Wow this is a long and slightly pointless parenthetical. I should probably stop typing in here and say something with some meaning really soon.) But writing from the perspective of someone with more face than body issues, it bothers me that the models can get bigger, but they still have exactly the same face. Continue Reading »

So my dad’s birthday was a few days ago, and in his honor I want to tell the world (that’s you guys) how great he is. My dad has had a huge impact on my relationship with food and myself. When I was just a toddler, my parents were running a business together, and often while my mom worked, Dad took me out to do fun stuff. This consisted of eating. Because what, other than My Little Pony, is more fun for a little girl than food? (I also, inexplicably, really loved toy trains.) Continue Reading »

Photos are dangerous. Even when they don’t involve you meeting secretly with an enemy head-of -state to sell government secrets.That can be bad too, though.

I feel like I’m talking about danger a lot these days, and I promise next time it’ll be something totally different, but first I’ve got to just address this incredibly critical issue. And when I say “critical” I’m talking, like, THE END OF THE WORLD. Continue Reading »

You know what I’m really scared of? Getting shot. Not with a gun. Or one of those creepy high-tech crossbows with the camo on them. Or with a regular bow and arrow. I’m scared of getting shot with a comment. It sounds lame. But honestly, I’m terrified of it.

Remember how I told you about that girl from when I was fourteen, and what she said about my nose? Her name was Carly. I still remember that, even though I only saw her once. Once was enough. She changed my life. Continue Reading »