badge of honor

Everyone has a badge of honor.  Or maybe more accurate, they have badges of honor.  As I listen to a conversation in the elevator, down the hall, another elevator, to the mailboxes and back the same path (these ladies, and I, were getting mail, and thusly on the same journey, although I was not associated with them) I hearing the physical and vain badges of honor some women carry around.  One girl rambled about how she’s always been a size two, and doesn’t think she’ll ever not be a size two.  In fact, if she ever couldn’t fit into her (size two) pants, she’d start dieting.  But that hasn’t happened yet.  One of the others could budge from size six.  She’s dropped down to a size six (from what, I don’t know), but she weighs 120 pounds, so it’s not terrible.  Still, she’s not moving AND she lost two cups sizes so it’s a double negative.  She wishes she was a size two.  And had her boobs back.

Size two, size six.  Paint it on their foreheads.  They established their measure of worth as a pant size.  Sometimes it’s breast cup size, weight, waist measurement.  Superficial stuff like salary and bling and how many Gucci bags they own.  It’s beyond a healthy sense of pride.  It’s a macabre interpretation of Girl Scout patches and badges.  I never did participate in Girl Scouts, but I did envy those that wore a sash of accomplishment.  I wanted one, I just knew, I KNEW I could sew like a champ and be a safety queen and although I wasn’t too pretty, I would sell more cookies than anyone else ‘cause I was a natural born sales woman, and natural born saleswomen didn’t rely on looks.  They made sales and got badges. 

On the way back to my office I use the bathroom.  Right there, between my thighs is my number.  Size eight regular.  Once I was a size fifteen.  Two weeks ago I said a little prayer I zipped myself into these very same pants because they were tight.  Today I can fit both hands inside the waist band.  Is size eight my badge?  What about my actual scale number, 138.2?  Two months ago it ready almost 160, should it now constitute as one of my badges of honor? 

I want a sash full of my honor badges.  But I want good honors, unique honors, not vain honors.  I hold my job as a badge, the career badge.  You can’t be any ‘ol size two and get this job done.  Homemade dinner, at least four times a week – domestic badge.  Not yelling, screaming and holding a grudge against the dog when he takes a nice big steaming diarrhea poo on the carpet (and eats it) is definitely a tolerance badge.  I now hold my nerdiness as an honor; the Man really appreciates that I handle his taxes and I still get really excited about taxes – intellect badge.  I can bench press 30 pounds, definite fitness badge, as with my swimming champ-ness.  I can spell damn near anything and have am slightly obsessed with punctuation: grammar badge.  I have no hand/eye coordination and I can't play volleyball (or anything else with 'ball' in it) so that's my un-graceful (and proud) badge.  My size eight isn’t a badge.  And if I ever fandangle my way to a size two, that’s not going to be a badge either.  But, if I lose two cups sizes, that WILL be a badge.  The no-neck-pain badge.  The I-can-wear-a-halter-top badge.