Well, shit. I did a whole lot of nothing yesterday despite having grandiose plans to clean the house top to bottom in Kathy’s absence (I can be annoying). She’s in Germany for five days. Instead I shirked work (workshirker) with Christian all day, who just returned from meeting with Uma in London about their movie. Then Mike Nouveau came to store his Vespa at my house for twelve days while he goes to Paris. I am not going to Paris or London or Germany. I am going to the Tea Lounge.

On Saturday I did, however, travel all the way to Alana’s house, which I think is located in Latin America… or maybe across the street from a meatpacker in the utmost of industrial Brooklyn and a gaggle of cackling hispanic men who take lots of group photos of each other. She and Kate and I put on the Greatest Hits of Dimitry’s Most Hilarious T-shirts and ran around in the rain throwing balls at each other.

Two songs to share. 1) Estelle’s new single “No Substitute Love,” which I really like a whole lot more than “American Boy.” Christian is in the video, too! 2) Five O’Clock Heroes’ “Who” with Agyness singing. It came out great, I really love this song. It’s been on repeat in my bedroom for a while now.

Five O’Clock Heroes – Who (feat. Agyness Deyn)

One more thing. I wear size 29 or 30 waist jeans. I wear small and medium shirts. Nowhere but New York would any sane person say that I’m “fat.” I was called fat last week twice by skinny boys. Sometimes the name-callers don’t eat because they inhale their meals through their nose, some are just skinny no matter what. I’ve been called fat in the past by exes. But: I don’t have an issue with my body. I don’t wish I wish I was skinnier. I am perfectly happy looking like this, and there is no lack of love in my life. My legs are big and hard as rocks because I walk probably four miles a day, and I have actual muscles on my arms. Having a life outdoors and having muscle is what being my kind of “boy” is, and while I’m reticent in general to defend myself against every little piece of bullshit, I’m doing so now because I’m sick of ignoring these things and letting assholes get away with belittling anyone who weighs more than they do. Several people close to me get called names on the street, on the internet, behind their backs… I’ve got two friends who were called fat sluts this weekend by two guys who had just hit on them and were shut down. Politely shut down, at that. So because my friends weren’t immediately willing to drop what they were doing to go fuck some strangers behind a dumpster, they’re fat sluts.

You were denied. You were dumped. You were called ugly. You were told you have a pizza face. You saw your ex and your crush on a date together. You’re insecure about your own self. We get it. But our bodies have nothing to do with yours, so why don’t you just get over it?