Clothing Quandary

For the first time since I began blogging in August, I wracked my brain for a topic. After running through my schedule of events this week—I wrote a talk to give to medical students, organized the renovations of the hallways and lobby of my condo building, sweated through tabata training, drank coffee, reminisced about Vegas with the delightful G-Smash while eating Cajun chili, approved an MA thesis proposal, participated in a reproductive rights teleconference, bought 18 tins for gifting baked goods in December, and hired a diet coach—I decided that it was all too boring. Who, other than me, would give a rat’s ass? Continue reading

What Would Derrida Think of My Supplements?

I realize that you are itching to hear what the amazing Jacques thinks about bodybuilding, but I have to share something else first. I regularly check the stats on the Feminist Figure Girl blog, which tell me how many hits my site receives per day, and which entry has been the most popular with readers. Wordpress also lists the different search terms that have guided people to my writing, however unwittingly. Some are obvious, like figure girl, figure competition, feminist bodybuilding. Others are hilarious. I give you: ‘obese black thong’ (no comment necessary), ‘why women kick testicles’ (I imagine a creepy guy clasping an ice pack to his crotch with one hand and gingerly typing this query with the other), ‘locker room women naked’ (I hope they were directed to my discussion of 1970s porno bushes), and ‘girl bent elbow armpit’ (ugh, does someone consider my bicep header erotic, even pornographic?). I also like ‘why did my ex become such an asshole?’ Now I don’t doubt that your ex did become an asshole, but is google really the place to figure out why? I think my favourite search term, however, is ‘speedo shame feminist.’ What was that person hoping to find? An image of Gloria Steinem looking sheepish in a lime green banana hammock? I might actually pay a small fee to see that. ‘Lingering hot sexy model man.’ Oh yeah, I want a hot man but I do not want him to be lingering. Bad odours linger, unpleasant experiences linger, unwanted house guests linger. And shadowy stalkers who were once hot male models might also linger…just outside of the 20 foot restraining order limit.  

On to Jacques Derrida and his supplements. Here is what he probably ingested on a daily basis to bolster his man power: coffee, cigarettes, viagra, red wine, creme fraiche. Okay so he had an old French bad breath nervous energy kind of manliness. Still, I heard that ‘JD’ was quite a ladies’ man and could dance. That is what one of my theory professors used to call the effusive French philosopher, as if they were close friends. During class this taut German would have an unlit smoke stuck to her lip, and would pound the table with her fist while shouting ‘HEGEL JA!’ Seriously. Do you think I could make this shit up? I drank quite a bit of JD—the brown liquid kind—before writing a Heidegger versus Mothra paper on ‘the handiness of the hand’ for her course. Got an A. Then when she asked me to discuss it with her while sober I reread the essay but could no longer understand my own argument. 

Supplements simultaneously overcome and draw attention to lack; they are both a surplus and necessary addition, and are thus central to approaching the vicissitudes of bodybuilding. Derrida discusses writing as a supplement, but he also explains the relationship between writing and the body: ‘in what one calls the real life of these existences “of flesh and bone”…there has never been anything but writing; there have never been anything but supplements, substitutive significations which could only come forth in a chain of differential references’ (Of Grammatology). Hell yes, and the Feminist Figure Girl project, which attempts to convey bodily experiences in textual form only reinforces that point, albeit in a literal rather than mind boggling fashion. Are protein powders, fat burners, and vitamins in any way like writing, or like this blog? I have included photos of my own supplementation regimen, though some of it has been placed under erasure. 

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Bodily Stasis

It is 2 am as I sit on my balance ball and listen to Rammstein (really DYT?), finally finding time to blog. Not that I was working. I spent much of the day preparing Somalian food for my dinner guests. Italy’s colonization of the horn of Africa from about 1880 to 1941, where it controlled both ports and sheep meat, produced a fascinating hybrid palate melding African and Mediterranean flavours–tomato, nutmeg, basil, cardamom, jalapeno peppers, bananas.  Continue reading

Ragin’ Cajun

So I am in Lafayette, Louisiana looking at everyone’s bodies like I always do. There is a distinctive corporeal type for men in Louisiana; they are tall, top-heavy, blocky, with a belly that protrudes as they sit back on their heels, which are usually clad in cowboy boots. At the same time, they are graceful and comfortable in their own skin, despite the baseball cap and ill-fitting t-shirt tucked into high waist jeans. These men are rough looking but incredibly friendly and polite. Best of all they will readily hit the dance floor with their ladies, gently guiding them to a spot in front of the fiddle player. Oh how I envy them right now, as I sit at a table at Randol’s Restaurant and Salle de Danse, full of blackened catfish and gator bites, tapping my foot and wishing that my partner was here. He would not want to jig or waltz with me, but Iwould pull him onto the dance floor and he would finally agree in his good natured way, especially if I had managed to get him a little drunk beforehand. Aside: it is rather easy to get him tipsy and then take advantage of him. But if you try it I will find you and I will stab you. I remind him of that every now and then. If he runs off with  another woman, I won’t get angry. I won’t cry. I will simply stab them both, probably to death. I say this calmly while looking him in the eye to make sure that he is paying attention. Speaking of stabbing, a man originally from Idaho told me that the murder rate is very high in Louisiana precisely because of the ever-present and obligatory hospitable politeness here. Residents do not express anger or dismay, letting it all build up until they finally snap and then start slicing and dicing. All I can say is ‘I feel you, mes cousins.’

So the University of Lafayette Campus has a swamp in the middle of it, right across from the Student Union Building, and yes it is filled with gators. Does it have a high fence surrounding it, you may ask? Well, there are some one-foot high concrete barriers, and they are used as benches. I ate my lunch there, while ocassionally looking over my shoulder, just in case…

 

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Perky Ass/Water Torture

‘Your ass has definitely perked up,’ commented my delightful young trainer–from now on I will call her DYT–as she aimed a camera at my backside. I was standing against the wall of the small consultation room at the gym. It was a little cold in my bare feet and pink 1950s rhinestone incrusted bikini. You know the one. I am wearing it as I relax on the beach…just look to the right. Today, however, I was standing up and trying to flare my lats instead of lying down and sucking in my gut. By the way, if you have tips for learning how to expand one’s lats without hunching forward like quasimodo, I would be pleased to hear them. Continue reading