Glorious Exercise
This week, I went on a bike ride! Yes, a bike ride! Exercise! Yay for me. Actually, it was all K's doing. He asked me to go, just like he always does. And usually, I would say, "No, I am too tired," or "No, I have a show to watch." But this time, despite my extreme fatigue (really, I didn't get much sleep), I agreed to go. I figured that I should put my $350 bike that I bought more than a year ago to use... especially since cold weather is on the way.
So, the bike ride was awesome. So refreshing and rejuvenating. It did cause a few issues for me though, since I am beyond out of shape. My knees have been killing me the past few days, and my butt has finally just stopped hurting every time I sit down. Obviously, I need to go riding more often to get my frail little body used to it. I am thinking maybe we can go again tomorrow. It may not seem like much, but I am proud of myself for going on one little bike ride. I am such an innately lazy person, and this could very well be an important first step for me. So, thanks K, you are a great motivator for me!
Now, speaking of the weather, even though we already officially had our first day of fall, today REALLY feels like the first day. I woke up to cold, windy weather. I could feel it in the air as I rolled out of bed. No more humid or even breezy summer days. Fall has arrived, and I already feel cold. Winter will be here in no time. Time to get depressed.
The Long Skirt
I'm having a long skirt kind of day. I woke up this morning feeling tired, bloated, and uncomfortable (yes, I know, too much information, but it explains why I chose to wear said skirt). Anyway, the last thing I felt like doing was putting on actual clothing. I just wanted to curl up in a big blanket... and what better way to simulate that than by slipping on a big old long skirt!
On days like today, the long skirt is an absolute necessity. It covers up my legs completely, so I feel safe and warm. Also, when I'm sitting in my chair, I can burrow my legs up into it and get cozy. It's like being hugged all day long. This skirt is so darn cute too. It's purple and aqua-colored, with silver, shiny stripes running down it. It's one of three long skirts that I own, and I absolutely cannot live without them.
The long skirt is an ingenious invention. It allows us women to feel like we're wearing pajamas while looking presentable. Yeah, it's not the most professional thing I could wear to work (especially when paired with black flip-flops, as today), but everyone has those days--the days where if you're going to drag yourself out of bed, then you'd better find something comfy to wear or you won't make it.
I wonder what I did all winter without being able to wear my brightly-colored, bohemian-looking skirts. The winter subsitute for the long skirt is pants, which do not measure up in the least. Pants are so restricting and formal. The long skirt has a mind of its own. It's free, it's hip, it says "I don't care." But in a good way.
Tell me, ladies, am I the only one who feels this way? Or are there other girls out there who have a special place for long skirts in their closets--and in their hearts?
PS...the long skirt in the picture is available on freepeople.com.
Animal Encounters
I know what it's like to live in an area with wild animals. I grew up in a house where squirrels, deer, wolves, beaver, turkey vultures, groudhogs, hawks and bats are normal, every day occurences. However, I did not expect a similar animal infestation when I moved to my apartment on the outskirts of DC. Despite the urban trappings of streets, big parking lots and cars, not to mention lots of people walking around, the animals still seem to inhabit every little bit of park-like ground they can find. And by "park-like," I mean an odd tree or patch of grass.
Here are a few little creatures I have personally encountered:
The rats. Sitting outside on a bench one day at dusk, I heard a scurrying noise in the bushes nearby. Suddenly, a large rodent popped out and ran across a sidewalk to another bush. Seconds later, another rat appeared and they continued frolicking together as I watched in horror. Honestly, I have nothing against them other than the fact that they are DIRTY VERMIN. They make me feel like I don't live in a good, clean or otherwise non-disgusting place.
The birds. Right outside the main door to my apartment building, there is a large tree. In this tree are hundreds of wild birds that chirp 24 hours a day. And when you've got that many birds chirping at the same time, it is quite unpleasant...I can't even imagine living in an apartment right by the tree (It would be like that Seinfeld episode where Elaine/Jerry/someone throws water on the doves outside the window to shut them up in the middle of the night). Again, I've got nothing against these birds--in fact, I am a bird lover--but I just don't understand the appeal of a tree next to the constantly banging doorof a populated apartment building.
Postscript: Lately I've noticed an erie silence whenever I walk out of the building, and I've finally realized the problem...the birds are gone! Maybe they went south for the winter? Or maybe someone threw some hot water at them...
The raccoon. Yes, this is for real. I observed a raccoon crawl out from under a car and into the freaking sewer. And it wasn't even dark outside. Again, it was that dusky, almost-dark time of evening...apparently this is the time for all manner of animals to come out of hiding and wreak havoc. Anyway, I think the raccoon disturbs me the most out of my animal encounters. Everyone knows raccoons are dirty, scavenger animals often seen cowering next to knocked-over trash cans. Yeah, they kind of look like cute little striped bears, but I don't want them in my living space.
Before concluding, let me just say that I love animals. I do. And I understand that they were on this Earth first and we have invaded their turf and blah, blah, blah. I just find it odd to see them so often in such an urban area. Maybe this is a sign that we need to slow down and quit building condos on every corner.
But anyway, please take this post with a grain of salt. I'm writing partially in jest, just like the time I wrote an editorial called "Squirrels Suck" for my college newspaper urging people on campus to throw things at squirrels and form a squirrel hunting club. It was really just a joke fueled by my growing annoyance at the over-population of squirrels on campus. But of course, the next day we received a bunch of letters condemning us for our "insensitive treatment of these harmless little creatures."
Dirty little animals: You either love 'em... or you want to run them over in your car.
It's all very meta
I have coined a new term (and if you coined it before me, okay then):
Meta-blogging: The act of discussing the politics, mysteries and motivations of blogging in one's own blog.
Trey Atwood, the O.C.'s king of the meta storyline.Since I began my foray into the blogging world, I have noticed many instances of meta-blogging on almost every blog that I read. I even do it on my own blog (see
Reading other people's lives). People seem to ponder every aspect of blogging... the reasons behind blogging, the different types of blogs, the merits or annoyances of things like anonymous blog comments, blog wars, antagonistic readers...and so on. The fact is, as bloggers, we're putting ourselves out there. And we are fascinated by that fact... we are utterly obsessed with our craft. So we analyze it. And why not do that on our blogs too?
This really reminds me of "The O.C.," which is a very meta show. The shows writers are constantly giving their characters lines that reference the show itself (or in many cases, point out the show's shortcomings or make fun of it). Example from last week's season premiere:
Trey is in a coma. Summer says that she's never known anyone in a coma before except for people on "The Valley," which is a fake show very similar to "The OC" (which is the show Summer is currently on, get it?). Summer goes on to say that comas on "The Valley" are usually just for "silly melodramatic plot-furthering purposes." Oh-so-not-coincidentally, that is what Trey's coma is being used for right that second on "The O.C." So the brilliant writers have pointed out the fact that their plotline is pretty much a stupid excuse to create some drama.
I don't get this. Do they think their viewers are so stupid as to not realize the show is poking fun at itself? Or is at sort of an inside joke and they just expect the observant people to chuckle at their brilliance? What good can come of being a meta show like this? Are we supposed to think it is clever? Are they using the meta quotes to show us that they know their show can be stupid sometimes? Maybe they're making up for the plot's obvious shortcomings by making a joke out of it?
Either way, "The O.C." is a good study in meta. And while we bloggers aren't always making fun of ourselves while meta-blogging, we
are trying to say something about our craft. Maybe we are trying to explain it, just like those O.C. writers. We're thinking up reasons why we do the things we do, and sometimes we might just be making excuses. Luckily, we don't have to explain anything as complicated as why there's a boy in a two-month coma after receiving a gun shot to the abdomen... and (spoiler alert) why that boy magically wakes up and can walk and talk just fine about 30 minutes in to the season premiere. But, whatever.
Sweet elixir of life
In the process of packing my lunch this morning, I happened to throw in a chocolate bar. Actually, I didn't "happen to" do it. I completely did it on purpose. I opened the freezer door, rummaged around for the perfect bar, and carefully placed it in my bag. The question on my mind now as I sit staring at the opened, partially eaten bar on my desk is: How can I go about nonchalantly eating chocolate after yesterday's full-figured fiasco (outlined in the below post)? I'll tell you why... it is because I am not eating an ordinary chocolate bar. This is an Aero bar.
For those of you not familiar, Aero bars are lovely little confections made by Nestle. They are filled with little air bubbles, giving them a wonderfully rich yet light taste. But by some odd conspiracy of the fates, Nestle does not sell these bars in the United States. However, they are plentiful in Canada, which may be part of the reason I'm so excited to go there every year. So, the Aero bar I have today is just one of very few that I brought back across the border with me.
I opened my bar at exactly 2:20 pm with the intention of making it last until I leave for the day. It is now 2:40 and I've eaten about a quarter of it. It is truly scrumptious, and worth every calorie. As I opened it, the thought that crossed my mind was: "Oh, sweet elixir of life." I kid you not. I actually thought
Oh sweet elixir of life. About a
chocolate bar. I guess the only conclusion I can glean from this is that I love food, specifically chocolate, so much that it has taken on a fantasy-type role in my life. I hardly ever allow myself to eat chocolate bars, so having one really is somewhat of an out-of-body experience...almost surreal. I know it's not helping my weight situation, but somehow it is still worth it.
Plus, I'm beginning to feel better about the whole full-figured designation. Obviously everyone in the world doesn't consider a size 10 full-figured. In fact, maybe it is just the DC area that has this category so broadly defined. Or maybe it is just the United States. But there must be plenty of people out there who think I look just fine (and if you don't think that, then I don't particularly want to know about it).
As I eat this chocolate bar, I hereby renounce the opinion that size 10 women are full-figured. In fact, I argue that
no woman should be labelled this way. If we need a label, it should be "normal," in my opinion. There are plenty of people my size. Doesn't that make it the norm?
We should not be called out. If anything, the really skinny girls are in the minority. Ads should ask for size 1's if they want size 1's. But leave the size 10's out of it. You want us, then you ask politely, by calling on all healthy, curvy girls. No waif-like model types accepted.
Award-winning Curves
Today I opened one of the many film/video forwards I receive on a regular basis. I am scrolling down until a large blue headline catches my eye. It reads:
"FULL-FIGURED MODELS CASTING CALL. SEPTEMBER 17TH, 2005 5:00-6:30PM @ THE AVALON STUDIO FOR MOVEMENT & DANCE 15, MELLOR AVE CATONSVILLE, MD
No Experience Necessary-Training is available. All Heights/Sizes 10 & up.
Wait. I do a double take. Sizes 10 and up? What? Size 10?!? But I am a size 10! And so I come to a startling realization: I might just be full-figured. This feels strange to me. I never thought of myself as a "full-figured" woman. I was always the petite, rather bony one...until about four years ago, when I started college. Somehow, I just kept gaining a few pounds at a time, a little more each year. It may have had something to do with the food, but it probably had a lot more to do with the fact that I rarely exercised. I didn't feel a sense of urgency to do so, figuring that my quick metabolism would keep up with my lifestyle.
Well, the metabolism didn't do such a hot job. It slowed waaay down. I now weigh more than I ever have in my life, which still is by no means overweight. But I feel for overweight for
me. And I still have this idea of myself as a generally thin person...or at least I
had this idea until I read that e-mail and realized that size 10's are considered full-figured. The fact is...I'm not full-figured... on top. It's just the bottom half of me that's the problem...well, mostly my middle. Let me put it this way: I have great child-bearing hips and a behind to match.
Yes, I could stand to lose weight and to tone myself up. But, I do enjoy the fact that I look healthy. I think I'm a pretty healthy size. I look better with some meat on me. My boyfriend also seems to like it...just the other night, he said I had "award-winning curves." But I by no means want to be classified as
full-figured.
I think this is a sad fact. It is so sad that society has caused me to feel this way. I should not despise myself for the way I look...and I also should not despise the word "full-figured" (which, in my opinion, is a really nice way of saying big, or fat...they should just say in the ad, "We want big girls. Really big. With big hips and big asses."). But I feel this way. I feel I am a petite person trapped in a full-figured person's body. And this makes me feel horrible, mainly because of my own vanity. I have always thought to myself that I am so lucky not to have to worry about my weight. Well, I think my luck has run out. I need to worry. Because right now, I'm just on the edge of the full-figured precipice. And if I've reached the point where society classifies me as a plus-sized girl, then I must do something.
There shouldn't be anything wrong with being plus-sized (aside from the fact that it may be unhealthy), but I feel like it is wrong for me to be that way. I wish I didn't feel that way...I wish I didn't feel such pressure to be a thin girl. But if I'm going to be happy, then I think I need to change myself. I by no means want to be stick-thin like so many young girls nowadays. But I do want to look better while retaining my curves and healthy glow. If I can just get out of that full-figured category, maybe I'll be happy with myself. Or maybe I just never will, no matter what my size.
Mechanical bulls and other musings
New post! I know, you're shocked...and I deeply apologize for my blogging haitus. I've just had one stressful thing after another lately, and now I finally have a moment of peace to write. Let's recap...
First, I had my school orientation. This went very well, despite my anxiety. I bought my books, got my ID card, actually made friends with someone, and got to get up in front of my fellow new grad students and demonstrate how to row on a plastic chair. Don't ask. But it was kind of fun and enabled everyone to get to know who I was. Plus, I got a free t-shirt.
The morning after orientation, I left for the brown pastures of Texas. After being moved from the prostitute-riddled Clarion Hotel to the posh Renaissance, the trip was quite pleasant (and no I am not kidding about the prostitutes). I worked hard, but not overly hard, and had lots of great meals, in addition to many many fuzzy navels. It felt good to let loose for a few days, tiring as that was. I stayed up late every night and got up early every morning, which is quite a departure from my normal life (in which I stay up late but not too late and get up late but not too late). Oh, and I rode a mechanical bull. Three times. With a record time of 7 seconds. After having about six+ glasses of wine. Go me. And I learned foozball, which was quite fun until I spilled my wine all over the table. Don't even try to act surprised.
Now, on to more mature things. I started school the same day I flew back from TX, after having a total of four hours sleep the night before my 9:25 a.m. flight. Suffice it to say, it was
not a good flight. Nonetheless, I made it to class on time, with minimal traffic (someone was looking out for me on that one). Class was good...my friend from orientation was in there, and it's on a topic I pretty much already know all about. I missed my other class due to TX, but I met with the professor and got caught up. This class will definitely be challenging and is already stressing me out. But I've realized that I do have the power and tenacity to get through school. This is good.
In closing, I'm going to go back to the mechanical bull thing (Please see picture above for an example...that is Hercules, the star of westernextremeentertainment.com). I have an addendum. Just so you know, I rode the bull in front of a total of
three people. I refused to ride it while a huge crowd watched me. I never quite understood the appeal of the bull. It is sooooo not that fun. For starters, it really hurts. Secondly, it looks stupid. Third, it's a freakin' synthetic hunk of rubber/plastic controlled by men in cowboy hats whose main goal is to throw off the men and ogle the girls bouncing around with their pants pulled down in the back.
So why do people ride it? The answer is simple: They ride it so everyone can look and laugh at them bouncing around with their pants riding low and their arm up in the air like a gaucho. Much like blogs, the bull is all about attention. But know this...I did
not ride that bull for attention. I rode it for me, because it was something I was afraid to do (and if I hadn't been half-drunk, I wouldn't have done it). Next time, fake spastic bull, be assured that I won't go near ya. I already had my fun with you. But I'll be happy to watch everyone else embarass themselves in front of the masses.
This week, I went on a bike ride! Yes, a bike ride! Exercise! Yay for me. Actually, it was all K's doing. He asked me to go, just like he always does. And usually, I would say, "No, I am too tired," or "No, I have a show to watch." But this time, despite my extreme fatigue (really, I didn't get much sleep), I agreed to go. I figured that I should put my $350 bike that I bought more than a year ago to use... especially since cold weather is on the way.
