Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Here I go, bragging again
I just turned in draft #2 of my book. I ran down the clock without actually getting everything in perfect order and it was very hard to turn in work with so many obvious problems still to fix.
Question: Is this a variant of the "humble brag" where, by announcing that it is hard for me to turn in imperfect work, I am actually pointing out that I have very high standards and usually turn in perfect work? I've become preoccupied with humble brags lately, as they are rife on Facebook and Twitter. The other day I realized that if I ruthlessly edited out all humble brags, I would have to shut down Tipsy Baker. As in, I write a story about a fight with my kids, but the point is not the fight but the fact that I've made it sound funny because I'm funny. Could that be construed as a humble brag? Possibly!
But this way lies madness. I like writing my blog and will proceed as usual with my bragging, humble and otherwise.
As to the manuscript issue, it reminds me of how I present myself in public. I don't usually look all that great, but never do I go out with both slip and bra strap showing and the back of my hair uncombed. I like to think my manuscript has inner beauty, and I will continue untangling her hair over the next few days and weeks.
Speaking of how I go out in public. I recently saw a picture of myself holding my handsome 1-year-old nephew, Ben. I am wearing a long-sleeved dress, but even under clingy jersey knit one might suspect that I am a professional swimmer, hurler, or shot putter. Never has a baby looked more secure than Ben does, supported by those burly arms. Hay-baling arms. Steer-wrestling arms. Big, solid, baby-holding arms. And I don't even work out!
It's sort of wonderful, watching ancestral genes express themselves in your physique. Someone long, long ago in Wales or Switzerland or England or Spain had such arms and I hope they were very useful to that someone. They are not so useful in my life. They are not my ally in a sun dress. Or, lately, any dress.
But I am much fonder of them than I used to be. I seem to be as incapable of truly disliking my body now as I used to be incapable of truly liking my body. Something changed when I watched my mother dying. I realized that any healthy body is a perfect body. Chubby legs that walk are perfect legs. Hefty arms that can hold a baby are perfect arms.
The upside of thinking this way: Inner peace.
The downside: Weight gain. What is the motivation to eat undressed salad for dinner when you have a perfect body?
But while my body may be perfect, I still really need to lose some weight. For my long-term health and so I can wear my clothes. I've gained seventeen pounds in the last year.
While I do realize this is an unpopular topic and a downer on a food blog, I am going on a diet. I haven't figured out how this will feature in the cookbook reviews, but I wanted to get it out there.
Posted by tipsybaker at 2/01/2011 10:48:00 AM