A terrible feminist and probably an awful human being

I am a terrible feminist and probably an awful human being.

Everyone on board?

OK.

I definitely have my moments where I’m like, “Man, I’d kill to be built like Kerry Washington” or whoever.

But last night I watched Chicago again (for burlesque research!), and I realized, “Goddamn, I would much rather be built like me than like Super Thin Renée Zellweger any day.”

I sincerely hope the most prominent feature of my chest is never the bones in it. (I can’t even see those bones, I forgot there WERE bones there.)

I could floss with that woman.

I know, I KNOW. I shouldn’t judge another woman. There’s room for all of us (ahem — especially her, she’s basically vapor), and we’re all snowflakes, blah blah, bliddy blah, sisterhood, traveling pants, etc. FINE. I’m an asshole. We’ve established that.

Also, while she’s tiny, I’m sure she does crazy yogalates-ninja-reformer class or something and could kill me with her pinky finger. Plus, she’s a floppity-bajillionaire mega-star who can sing AND dance AND act (I’m told), and I live in a studio apartment and have 45 Facebook followers, so who the hell am I? She gives no fucks what I think, and rightly so.

Now, don’t get it twisted — if you offered a trade of INCOME, I’d be on that shit like white on rice. (Not that she knows what rice is, but you get the idea.) But body-wise? I’m glad I’m me, is the point. Flat ass and all. I’m not a hater — this was a self-esteem epiphany. So there.

“Pop. Six. Squish. Uh uh. Cicero. Lipschitz.”

Normally with people I like/love/respect, I’m very, “I’m not gonna diss you on the Internet, ’cause my mama taught me better than that.” It’s part of why I don’t talk much about my ex, because he’s still one of my best friends and I don’t need to air those issues publicly. My close friends and my therapist have heard it, and that’s enough. (Plus, if I ever said anything here that got back to him and hurt him, I’d jump out a window. [I know. Hence the therapist.])

But OTHER than him, we’re all OK with me being kind of an asshole on my own site on occasion, right? We know I’m a little insane but generally a nice human, except when I get pushed too far? Because tempers are gettin’ a little Jersey up in here at Smug HQ — people are stepping to my backyard swagger. So, um…fair warning, sometimes I’m an asshole, but generally only in writing. (And in my defense, it really does take a lot. I mean…they had it comin’…)

(I love that I’m clarifying as if any of you gives a dick if I’m not Gandhi.)