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Jennifer Lawrence body shames you more than you might have realized.

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An alternate version of this post can be found at The Huffington Post. To save my inbox, comments on this version of the post are closed, but feel free to move discussion to the HuffPo version.

Here are some quotes Jennifer Lawrence has made over the years, regarding her weight:

“I’d rather look chubby on screen and like a person in real life.”

“In Hollywood, I’m obese. I’m considered a fat actress. I eat like a caveman. I’ll be the only actress that doesn’t have anorexia rumors! I’m never going to starve myself for a part. I’m invincible. I don’t want little girls to be like, ‘Oh, I want to look like Katniss, so I’m going to skip dinner!’ That was something I was really conscious of during training. I was trying to get my body to look fit and strong, not thin and underfed.”

“If anybody even tries to whisper the word ‘diet,’ I’m like, ‘You can go f– yourself.”

“What are you gonna do? Be hungry every single day to make other people happy? That’s just dumb.”

Tumblr celebrates her in .gif as a paragon of quirk and body acceptance:

jlaw1

jlaw2

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jlaw5

One thing that may have escaped your notice, in the orgiastic celebration of JLaw realness that is the internet, is that Jennifer Lawrence looks like this:

jlaw6

Let’s concede the point here that she is, perhaps, a size or two above the Hollywood accepted norm. Let’s also concede the point that it’s admirable, being the star of a movie franchise aimed at teens, that she is concerned about the effect a too-svelte appearance might have on her audience, who are already bombarded with negative body messages every day. I’m not making this post to attack Jennifer Lawrence. I’m making this post to attack the rabid fandom that has grown around her.

I’m not going to cover the fact that it’s fucked up that a girl like Jennifer Lawrence has to justify her perfectly gorgeous body to every single media consumer in the world. We all know that’s fucked up. Let’s focus instead on the fact that in order to appease our own self-doubt about our weight, we, the internet, have decided to ignore how body-shaming the entire image of JLaw, “Spirit Animal” to fat girls everywhere, really is.

First of all, consider her quotes. She would rather look chubby on screen, but like a person in real life. This is a message of positivity only for people who consider themselves chubby, and it comes at the expense of women who are thin. Maybe they’re thin because they’re sick. Maybe, they just like being thin, or they’re naturally slender. What this quote is saying is that these women aren’t people. I want to know, internet: at what percentage of body fat do women earn the right to be people?

I’m certain that a lot of my fellow fatties looked at that quote and rolled their eyes. We know that being fat doesn’t grant one personhood, because our alleged lack of self-control and dignity are directly linked to that body fat percentage. Fat people are not people. They’re fat people. So, what does that quote do? It’s not empowering to anyone but women who look like Jennifer Lawrence. And it’s not a coincidence that she just happens to be the Coke-bottle standard we’re told men should prefer.

So, consider all those .gifs at the top of this post. The ones where she talks about how much food she eats, how she loves McDonald’s fries. Would the internet have embraced those quotes coming from, oh, I don’t know…

melissa mccarthy

I’ve noticed a funny thing about Melissa McCarthy. Well, besides the obvious, that she’s funny. But I’ve noticed that when Jennifer Lawrence talks about her weight, she talks about how much food she eats, and how she’s never going to diet to be thin. And when Melissa McCarthy is quoted about her weight, this is what she says:

“I don’t really know why I’m not thinner than I am.”

“I want to be healthy.”

“I just don’t lose weight easily.”

“Sometimes I wish I were just magically a size 6 and I never had to give it a single thought.”

Because Melissa McCarthy actually is a fat woman, she isn’t allowed to make brash statements about body acceptance. She has to apologize for her body. Every single one of those quotes might as well have just said, “Sorry I’m fat and you have to look at me, everyone.” But it’s all she’s allowed to say, in the confines of our culture. If Melissa McCarthy had said, “If anybody even tries to whisper the word ‘diet,’ I’m like, ‘You can go f– yourself,” the response will most assuredly not be, “How brave! How strong! What a good role model!” The response will be, “What a bad example, encouraging people to be unhealthy! We have an obesity epidemic! Open your eyes, fat is not healthy, sexy, or acceptable! How very dare she!”

Imagine if Melissa McCarthy had made so many public comments about food and McDonald’s. It wouldn’t be cute or funny, it would be schtick. Look at the fat woman, being human and hungry for something bad for her! How grotesquely humorous it is when fat people eat! When Jennifer Lawrence makes these comments, it’s acceptable, because her body is still pleasing to our cultural expectation of voluptuous, slim-waisted, long-necked female beauty.

Comments about how much food Jennifer Lawrence loves to eat further builds the unicorn-like mystique of actresses who maintain cultural expectations of slenderness while claiming that they eat whatever they want and never work out. Is it more damaging to a fat woman’s self-esteem to see a thin woman on a movie screen, or to see that thin woman calling herself fat and claiming her celebrated figure is the product of eating McDonald’s and hating exercise? I’m fat. I eat a lot of McDonald’s. I do exercise, though I sometimes hate it… so, why then, when I admit to these things, am I a public health crisis, and slender, beautiful women who say them are positive role models? I’m pretty sure you know where this is going.

When Jennifer Lawrence says it’s “dumb” to go hungry to make other people happy, she’s saying it with the carefree attitude of a woman who probably will never have to make that choice to conform. Yes, she might be asked to diet for a role. But a woman who looks like Jennifer Lawrence doesn’t have to shop for her clothes in online stores only, because no physical storefronts carry her size. A woman who looks like Jennifer Lawrence probably isn’t going to have a stranger try to stage an impromptu intervention in a Pizza Hut because they’re so, so concerned for her “health.” If a woman who looks like Jennifer Lawrence goes to her doctor to complain of an ailment, she’ll be offered diagnostic tests instead of a diet plan. Jennifer Lawrence can say it’s “dumb” to go on a diet, but Jennifer Lawrence might not be facing weight-related prejudice or illness. Jennifer Lawrence may never be forced to make the choice between going hungry to lose weight versus having a knee and hip replacement at thirty-five.

I’m sure Jennifer Lawrence has body issues. She is a woman in the U.S., after all. Body issues come pre-installed at birth. But simply feeling bad about your own weight doesn’t give you license to shame the bodies of women who are thinner than you are, or the choices of women who are fatter than you are.

What’s even more troubling is that this mythos of the body-image warrior that the internet has created for Jennifer Lawrence has allowed her to say some pretty shitty things without much consequence. As long as she’s the down-to-earth, quirky, “body positive” weirdo, we can let bisexuality erasing and transphobic comments slide?

The reason Jennifer Lawrence is allowed to be a body-positive role model to young girls and “chubby” women is because she is representative of conventional beauty. She is a thin woman, exhibiting the thin privilege (and I know how much people hate that phrase) of making self-conscious body remarks while the rest of the world rushes to assure her that she’s gorgeous. Jennifer Lawrence’s public image has been built on a foundation of fat girl drag. She can call herself fat in interviews. She can actually believe she is fat, if she wants to. But she is not a fat woman, and her experiences do not speak to the experiences of actual fat people, no matter how strenuously Tumblr works to make it seem so.

Happy Holidays, I got you some hot bisexual billionaires doin’ it.

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The Hook-Up is now available at Smashwords.com! *

I want to thank everyone who supported The Boss and The Girlfriend this year. Whether you read it or recommended it or just quietly cheered from the sidelines, your support is so appreciated. And I feel totally inadequate giving you a short story as a token of my gratitude, because I know I should probably be hand-knitting you all really sturdy dish cloths or some other item my grandmother would suggest as a practical and appropriate gift that probably no one would be allergic to.

What I’m trying to say here, Trout Nation, is: “Have this dirty book.”*

*If you do not have a Smashwords.com account, you may be unable to visit the link or download the book. I’m murky on how their adult filter works. If you have troubles, just make an account and click the link again, it should work.

The Hook-Up cover try #1

After cancer put a year of his life on hold, Neil Elwood is finally back where he thought he belonged, at the head of his media empire. But when the job takes him to London and away from his girlfriend, Sophie, he begins to reevaluate his priorities.

Neil isn’t sure what to expect when Sophie suggests a one-on-one night between him and their lover, Emir. When the two men have dinner together, sparks fly, and Neil recognizes a rare opportunity to give sexual submission another try.

Though taking charge is all he knows, Neil is willing to obey, at least for one night. Under Emir’s command, Neil discovers a whole new side of his sexuality, and he learns that sometimes, surrendering control can feel so, so good…

Christmas is All Around! The Love, Actually twitter watch-a-long!

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Love Christmas is all around me, and you know what that means.

Oh, yes.

to me you are perfect

It’s time for Rick Grimes to show up romantically on your doorstep with a low-tech slide show, folks. It’s time for the greatest Christmas movie ever. It’s time for Love, Actually.

Love Actually

In the spirit of Christmas, and the fact that I have a huge crush on like 70% of this cast, this time around, Trout Nation gets three chances to party. That’s right. I’ll be watching along three times, because this gives me a bullet proof excuse to see this movie three times in twenty-four hours. I’d like to see Mr. Jen argue with me about my alleged “obsession” now. Ha!

Here are the times and dates you can join in:

Saturday, December 14, 9pm EST (UTC -5)

Sunday, December 15, 1am EST (UTC -5)

Sunday, December 15, 3pm EST (UTC -5)

To find out if these times are gonna work for you, visit timeanddate.com. Then start your dvd or digital copy of Love, Actually and tweet to the hashtag #BillyMack.

And remember: this is the best Christmas movie of all time, or I will fight you.

Got a book out, Trout Nation?

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Hey there, Trout Nation. It occurred to me, when twitter conversating with author Kelsey Jordan,  that many of you are also authors. And that’s fantastic. And I realized that, hey, I could be doing more to spread the visibility around. Since so many of you guys have pushed links to the Buffy recaps and the 50 Shades tragedy, I should really try and return the favor.

So this is the first “shamelessly promote your work in the comments” post. I’m going to try and remember to do these once a month. But there are gonna be rules:

1. One comment per author.

2. You must include a buy-link.

3. Don’t promo your book or put buy-links in replies to another author’s comment.

Pretty simple, right? Go to town!

Oh, but before you do, go check out this awesome interview and giveaway with the aforementioned Kelsey Jordan, who gave me the idea in a roundabout way.

The Big Damn Buffy Rewatch S02E07 “Lie To Me”

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In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will slice through her bed sheets as though her toenails were samurai swords . She will also recap every episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer with an eye to the following themes:

  1. Sex is the real villain of the Buffy The Vampire Slayer universe.
  2. Giles is totally in love with Buffy.
  3. Joyce is a fucking terrible parent.
  4. Willow’s magic is utterly useless (this one won’t be an issue until season 2, when she gets a chance to become a witch)
  5. Xander is a textbook Nice Guy.
  6. The show isn’t as feminist as people claim.
  7. All the monsters look like wieners.
  8. If ambivalence to possible danger were an Olympic sport, Team Sunnydale would take the gold.
  9. Angel is a dick.
  10. Harmony is the strongest female character on the show.
  11. Team sports are portrayed in an extremely negative light.
  12. Some of this shit is racist as fuck.
  13. Science and technology are not to be trusted.
  14. Mental illness is stigmatized.
  15. Only Willow can use a computer.
  16. Buffy’s strength is flexible at the plot’s convenience.
  17. Cheap laughs and desperate grabs at plot plausibility are made through Xenophobia.
  18. Oz is the Anti-Xander

Have I missed any that were added in past recaps? Let me know in the comments.

WARNING: Some people have mentioned they’re watching along with me, and that’s awesome, but I’ve seen the entire series already and I’ll probably mention things that happen in later seasons. So… you know, take that under consideration, if you’re a person who can’t enjoy something if you know future details about it. 

State of The Trout: Two Quick Things!

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Hey everybody! I’m buried under deadlines! WHEE!

A Big Damn Buffy Rewatch Post is coming soon, but in the meantime, here are two important things to stick in your head:

  • The Boss is now free in all available formats at Smashwords. It should be up and free at retailer soon, but you can download it in whichever format you need here.
  • The #EatMe Addams Family Values watch-a-long party starts at 3pm EST on Friday, November 29! Why the middle of the day? So our friends in Europe can play along! You think this is rough, wait until we do one for New Zealand.

Catch you on the flipside!

FINALLY! and the #EatMe Addams Family Values Watch-a-Long

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My daughter, whose first and middle names are Wednesday and Addams (yes, for real), FINALLY let me do this. I’ve been begging for like, two years. Bonus: I sent her to church with her grandparents like this.

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Parenting achievement unlocked: Forcibly introduce child to cosplay.

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And it turns out, she’s pretty good at it!

So, let me use this post for good just a second. A lot of people felt left out when we did the #UtterlyAlone watch-a-long party for Halloween, because their time zone made it impossible to join. Well, to celebrate American Thanksgiving, I thought, why not do another watch-a-long. What’s a good Thanksgiving movie?

wednesday addams

 

That’s right. On the day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday, November 29th, at 3 p.m. EST, we’ll be watching Addams Family Values. Because if it wasn’t obvious from the rest of the content in this post, I really, really love The Addams Family and there is like, a three minute Thanksgiving sequence in this one, so that means it counts.

So, at 3 p.m., EST, November 29th, start your DVD or whatever (it is not on Netflix streaming, I recommend renting from Amazon Video or just streaming if you’re a Prime member) and join your fellow Troutlanders on the hashtag #EatMe. The Beetlejuice one was awesome, so this should also be a good time!

Night of The Moth

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Last night, I had the opportunity to go to a Pure Romance party, one of those things that are like Tupperware parties, but instead it’s vibrators and different kinds of flavored lube. It’s kind of a strange environment to be in, when you write and blog about sex on the daily; everyone there was having that kind of scandalized fun people have while talking about naughty things when their life, presumably, doesn’t revolve around cocks going into holes 24/7. Meanwhile, I was sitting there wondering if anyone would get weird about it if I raised my hand and asked if the probe-style vibe in the brochure was flexible enough to put in my husband’s butt.

But this story isn’t really about the party. This story is about what happened on the way to the party.

D-Rock drove (because it was at her sister’s house and also I don’t have a driver’s license), and as we left the driveway, I started feeling a little off. There was a little acid reflux creeping up my throat. I thought about asking D-Rock to stop and let me run back to the house and grab some tumbs, but I decided against it. By the time we were less than .3 miles from the house, I knew that had been a bad choice.

“Duuuude, you have to pull over in Prairieville. I have some wicked bad heartburn.”

At the gas station in Prarieville (which is, I believe, the only current retail establishment in Prarieville, so that should give you the size of the town at a glance), I grabbed a Powerade, drank gratefully of it, and got back into the truck.

And when I got in… a little moth flew in, too.

We were pulling away from the gas station, and I was thinking about how my heartburn was bound to be the worst part of my night, and since it was now over I could have fun, when the moth made a bee-line (lol, bees are also bugs) for my face. I didn’t want the moth to fall into my Powerade. That’s all I could focus on in the moment. Please, don’t let this moth fall into your Powerade! If I had known what was going to happen, in those few seconds I tried to wave the moth out of my face and desperately cover up my drink, I would have  have made better choices. I would have risked spilling purple Powerade in D-Rock’s truck. If I could turn back time, as Cher would say, I know that no matter what happened, I would not have taken a sharp, full-lunged inhale of surprise with a moth so close to my face.

Because it happened, you guys. The thing you are imagining? It happened.

The moth. Went up. My nose.

That should be the worst part of the story, right? Sucking a moth up your nose? Oh no, gentle reader. No, no.  You see, when I snorted the moth up my nose, quite against both of our wills, I kind of gag/choked/coughed, a maneuver that dragged the helpless little beast from deep within my nose, down the back of my throat, where upon I swallowed it.

But it wasn’t dead.

I could distinctly feel the wings of the moth trying desperately to flutter. The epic death throes of this insect were taking place just below my gag reflex. I wretched and coughed and wheezed, tears streaming from my eyes. At one point, it seemed my throat was being forced open by some mechanical error I was powerless to correct. I couldn’t hack up the moth. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. What if it burst from my throat or worse, out my nose, and flew away? I would have to live with that experience forever and ever. And at this time, the moth had yet to be in my actual mouth. Just imagining this moth flying from my open mouth gave me enough incentive to keep chugging my drink, hoping I could drown the little fucker or, at the very least, wash him down to my stomach, where he would suffocate. I presume. I don’t actually know if insects breath or not. I never really thought about it until one was stuck in my larynx.

During all of this, D-Rock just kept driving, totally calm. At one point she said, kinda slow and disinterested, “Yeah, that’s a bummer, man.” I believe this was in response to my desperate shriek of, “IT’S CRAWLING AROUND IN MY THROAT!” Later, she maintained that she was being helpful and calm in an emergency. But I think it was probably that she didn’t want to hear me carry on anymore.

But carry on I did! I told no less than sixteen people my tale of terror, whether they wanted me to stop or not. And now I’ve told it to you. Because you need to be aware that horrible shit like this can just happen to you, and you are powerless to stop it. Also, you need to know the backstory so that my obituary will make sense when 1,000,000 moth larvae erupt from my brain and kill me later this week.