staying up late because i can
Mar. 14th, 2006 01:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7HA. No work tomorrow.
Work today: Ran around like a crazy person, but this time only for six hours.
One customer jokingly asked, after the rush had subsided, whether my heart rate had come back down. I answered, "You know, before I got this job I was going to join a gym. But then I started here, and I was like, 'Why?!'" They laughed, and a bit later one of them, a shyer one who hadn't spoken, was standing at the bar when I mentioned to the other waitress that it'd been so long since I had a day off I didn't know what to do with myself. "You could go to the gym," he said, and I laughed and laughed.
Have been reading and i wasted all that birth control. She is funny, but also, addictive.
I tend to get sucked into people's blogs. I really do get addicted. I meant to go to bed like three hours ago, but I just... one more... category...
I admit I'm sad that I came in right now becaues the suspense is killing me. Will she be able to have her baby safely? She lost her last pregnancy to preeclampsia and it was absolutely horrible and heartbreaking and I just-- the suspense is killng me now.
I need to figure out how to add RSS feeds to my friendslists because I can't keep my shit together long enough to actually coherently follow anything but my friendslist, which I follow compulsively.
And she, being a woman of size, linked to this site: The Beauty Curve. Which is, quite simply, a fat chick's gallery of wonderful photos of herself taken by various fine-art photographers, because she feels that there ought to be more size-positive images out there. Now, I have the teetering-on-the-edge-of-fatness-my-whole-life (and daughter-of-same)'s contempt for the really fat, and I freely admit that I just think that one should not let oneself get above a certain weight. But then, if pressed, I have to squirm a bit and I will have to admit that I don't actually know what that certain weight is. I am, by now, by far the fattest person in my family, and I'm used to it, but still... I mean, I am happy at the size I am, really, I am, but I also think that I would be so much hotter if I could just lose... well maybe ten or maybe twenty pounds, or maybe just if it were in different places, or maybe I'm just... but having dessert tonight won't really hurt me... and ... You see how it is.
But who could ever disagree with this photo? *dies*
Recently (Valentine's Day) Z picked up my camera and spent the next hour or more taking photographs of me. I was wearing a somewhat-revealing outfit that I felt very sexy in, and he agreed, and his taking pictures of me was very much a playful but somewhat erotic pastime. And it was very enjoyable, and I felt very sexy, and all was well.
But when I looked at them later, I had very mixed feelings. I have chubby upper arms. My belly is chubby. I have these little wrinkles of fat here, and there, and there, and I'm just not the shape that I am in my head. I know I talked about this.
I decided to just not be bothered by it, and used one of the images (this one) as my usericon on elmwoodstrip.org. It's not bad. It's one of the few where no fat rolls are actually really discernable. (I mean, if you're looking, but really, they're not that bad. I'm posed quite well.)
I'm trying to decide about the rest of the pictures. Obviously the fat rolls are there. I feel I ought to either make peace with them or be serious about making them go away-- and of course, be realistic. If I make them go away now, what will I do if they ever come back?
I think my problem all through my life has always sort of been that I don't want to be a fat girl, but I've never actually disliked being fat enough to want to do anything about it. My mother lost over 100 pounds because she was so focused on being thinner that it became her hobby. In Georgia in Feb., she ate chocolate and ice cream and anything she wanted, but there was still always that awareness that she's a Size Twelve Now And Has To Stay That Way.
To be honest I don't think she's any more attractive this way. But she's happier, and it's resolved a few health issues she was starting to worry about. Nothing major-- I have been somewhat interested to hear about how obesity doesn't actually kill as many people as the Center for Disease Control was saying, and in fact being too thin kills just as many people-- but there is really no arguing with the fact that 100 extra pounds put a lot of stress on the ankle Mom's had trouble with her whole life. And that being heavy has done my grandmother's poor destroyed knees no favors at all.
The important thing is that my mom is happy.
For me, the important thing is that I can endure a 12-hour waitressing shift, and I look damn hot in a corset. Not so much in a bikini. If I ever can get myself that size-positive, I'll post the photos of me in my bikini that mom took in Katy's pool. Then you'll know I'mcrazy really feeling the self-esteem.
BTW-- This isn't a plea for people to say "oh you're not fat" (but do feel free to agree that it's a good photo)-- the point is, there is no clear definition of is and isn't, and people giving their opinion isn't going to really help. It's interesting to debate. It's also entirely not physical.
Meanwhile, i'm rambling, and I should go to sleep so I can get lots of writing and cleaning done tomorrow.
Work today: Ran around like a crazy person, but this time only for six hours.
One customer jokingly asked, after the rush had subsided, whether my heart rate had come back down. I answered, "You know, before I got this job I was going to join a gym. But then I started here, and I was like, 'Why?!'" They laughed, and a bit later one of them, a shyer one who hadn't spoken, was standing at the bar when I mentioned to the other waitress that it'd been so long since I had a day off I didn't know what to do with myself. "You could go to the gym," he said, and I laughed and laughed.
Have been reading and i wasted all that birth control. She is funny, but also, addictive.
I tend to get sucked into people's blogs. I really do get addicted. I meant to go to bed like three hours ago, but I just... one more... category...
I admit I'm sad that I came in right now becaues the suspense is killing me. Will she be able to have her baby safely? She lost her last pregnancy to preeclampsia and it was absolutely horrible and heartbreaking and I just-- the suspense is killng me now.
I need to figure out how to add RSS feeds to my friendslists because I can't keep my shit together long enough to actually coherently follow anything but my friendslist, which I follow compulsively.
And she, being a woman of size, linked to this site: The Beauty Curve. Which is, quite simply, a fat chick's gallery of wonderful photos of herself taken by various fine-art photographers, because she feels that there ought to be more size-positive images out there. Now, I have the teetering-on-the-edge-of-fatness-my-whole-life (and daughter-of-same)'s contempt for the really fat, and I freely admit that I just think that one should not let oneself get above a certain weight. But then, if pressed, I have to squirm a bit and I will have to admit that I don't actually know what that certain weight is. I am, by now, by far the fattest person in my family, and I'm used to it, but still... I mean, I am happy at the size I am, really, I am, but I also think that I would be so much hotter if I could just lose... well maybe ten or maybe twenty pounds, or maybe just if it were in different places, or maybe I'm just... but having dessert tonight won't really hurt me... and ... You see how it is.
But who could ever disagree with this photo? *dies*
Recently (Valentine's Day) Z picked up my camera and spent the next hour or more taking photographs of me. I was wearing a somewhat-revealing outfit that I felt very sexy in, and he agreed, and his taking pictures of me was very much a playful but somewhat erotic pastime. And it was very enjoyable, and I felt very sexy, and all was well.
But when I looked at them later, I had very mixed feelings. I have chubby upper arms. My belly is chubby. I have these little wrinkles of fat here, and there, and there, and I'm just not the shape that I am in my head. I know I talked about this.
I decided to just not be bothered by it, and used one of the images (this one) as my usericon on elmwoodstrip.org. It's not bad. It's one of the few where no fat rolls are actually really discernable. (I mean, if you're looking, but really, they're not that bad. I'm posed quite well.)
I'm trying to decide about the rest of the pictures. Obviously the fat rolls are there. I feel I ought to either make peace with them or be serious about making them go away-- and of course, be realistic. If I make them go away now, what will I do if they ever come back?
I think my problem all through my life has always sort of been that I don't want to be a fat girl, but I've never actually disliked being fat enough to want to do anything about it. My mother lost over 100 pounds because she was so focused on being thinner that it became her hobby. In Georgia in Feb., she ate chocolate and ice cream and anything she wanted, but there was still always that awareness that she's a Size Twelve Now And Has To Stay That Way.
To be honest I don't think she's any more attractive this way. But she's happier, and it's resolved a few health issues she was starting to worry about. Nothing major-- I have been somewhat interested to hear about how obesity doesn't actually kill as many people as the Center for Disease Control was saying, and in fact being too thin kills just as many people-- but there is really no arguing with the fact that 100 extra pounds put a lot of stress on the ankle Mom's had trouble with her whole life. And that being heavy has done my grandmother's poor destroyed knees no favors at all.
The important thing is that my mom is happy.
For me, the important thing is that I can endure a 12-hour waitressing shift, and I look damn hot in a corset. Not so much in a bikini. If I ever can get myself that size-positive, I'll post the photos of me in my bikini that mom took in Katy's pool. Then you'll know I'm
BTW-- This isn't a plea for people to say "oh you're not fat" (but do feel free to agree that it's a good photo)-- the point is, there is no clear definition of is and isn't, and people giving their opinion isn't going to really help. It's interesting to debate. It's also entirely not physical.
Meanwhile, i'm rambling, and I should go to sleep so I can get lots of writing and cleaning done tomorrow.
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no subject
Date: 2006-03-14 06:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-19 12:49 pm (UTC)Well, I aesthetically admired the other photo, at least as a piece of artwork.
It's sort of compelling, the idea that we should not strive for some artificial concept of perfection in our personal appearances. And so I can sort of say to myself that working very hard to lose the last stubborn twenty or so pounds that mean I can't pose for magazine photos is useless, because it's conforming to an artificial ideal of beauty.
...
But then I actually look down and realize I can pinch a whole handful of fat below my ribs, and I think, maybe being closer to artificial-concepts-of-perfection would actually suit me......
Am I sad or what, that it's taken me over a week to get around to replying to comments? Eh.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-21 08:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-14 06:28 am (UTC)My mom is preoccupied with her weight too--but from the other direction. She's got a very petite build and she has the metabolism of a hummingbird, and she really has to make an effort all the time to keep her weight in the triple digits. And she's a professional bellydancer (yes, really!) and is always lamenting her lack of curves and all the Silly Brassiere Tricks she has to do to make it look like she has something. She's really a beautiful woman
much hotter than me, though she's almost 60but yeah, it is kind of a drawback. And yes, there are skinny-person health problems.None of this compares to the social stigma fat people have, and I'm not trying to claim it does by any stretch! (And I don't think you're fat - seriously, when I think fat I think of some of the couch-sized people I've seen, where it's obviously difficult just to walk and breathe. The people I know with body types like yours...geez, it's just a whole different thing to me.) But in this culture, is any woman ever encouraged to be just pleased and satisfied with her own body?
no subject
Date: 2006-03-19 12:58 pm (UTC)And yet, who looks better in the low-waisted backless strapless fashions currently popular today?
I keep waiting for corsets to become mainstream fashion, but then I realize that when they do, they're lingerie corsets, which don't actually, er, work, if you're actually heavy enough to merit one...
Most body types have their advantages, and while I've never actually been able to loathe myself quite so much as to seriously want to change my body type entirely, I sometimes do envy the five-feet-five, 100-pounds-even body type who can wear anything in the store. It's a particularly compelling envy on the days where I go into the mall and realize that I am too large to fit into anything in the teen-fashion type stores, but still too small to fit into anything at all in the plus-size stores.
When I was growing up my mother was "fat". She would never tell us how much she weighed. She was a size 24 or so, sure, but she's nearly six feet tall, and always had an hourglass shape to her figure, even if it was a rather lumpy one. She never became so fat that she wasn't mobile. She always nagged me to watch what I ate and exercise more, and I always defiantly answered her that as long as I could get up the stairs on my own I wasn't fat.
Not that I didn't develop any complexes, but who ever makes it through their adolescence without at least one of those?
But in this culture, is any woman ever encouraged to be just pleased and satisfied with her own body?
Touche.
My cousin, a lovely woman of five-feet-six, struggles-to-stay-above-100, always cries about how unfair it is whenever she sees me: She just wants to be a whole A cup! That's all she wants! And there I am complaining about how DDDs aren't quite big enough anymore! She was so excited when she gave up waitressing and got a desk job and gained enough weight that her thighs touched.
And that is so cool that your mom is actually a professional belly dancer...
no subject
Date: 2006-03-21 08:56 am (UTC)'Better' is kind of a pointless word when so many of even the skinny girls wearing that crap look so terrible in it.
Very few people, even of the right height/weight ratio, can wear anything in the store, because those clothes are proportioned for a specific body that seems to be strangely unusual. But I really don't understand why there's not more cool size 12-to-14 clothes. After all, a LOT of people are that size, and still cute enough to wear pretty, well-shaped things and not the odd mumus of the plus-size selection.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-14 12:31 pm (UTC)She's joining Weight Watchers this week, which makes me happy because her Atkins yo-yoing was driving me insane. She loves bread. There are ways to still eat bread and lose weight...and yet she never got that.
It also totally sucks being "the chubby one." My brother is so tall, he needs to put on like 15-20lbs for me to really notice, but he's so athletic that it only happens a coule times a year.
The psychology of weight distribution in families is totally fucked, IMO.
And that photograph? ROWR! You're such a hottie.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-19 01:05 pm (UTC)"the chubby one"
AMEN.
I admit that I was secretly pleased to find out that the sister just younger than me has put on a whole bunch of weight and is now within ten pounds of my weight even though she's still only a D cup.
And then I was really guilty for feeling pleased. It's not fair on her. She's been so unhappy and has so little support from the people she chooses to surround herself with, and she also has the worst food habits of any of us, and I want to make her move in with me so I can take care of her and make people stop hurting her, but that's all much more complex than my simple delight at not being The Chubby One. (Of course, I am aided in that i have a multiplicity of siblings, all of whom are similar to me in height. However, the one most similar to me in body type (as in bone structure and proportions) is also the fittest one, so I don't get much consolation from that.)
Living with Mr. Eighty Pounds Underweight doesn't help either.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-19 01:07 pm (UTC)Thank you.
I might mention that the memory of you in that vinyl dress from Rocky Horror is still a pleasant one. You rock on with your "the chubby one" self.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-19 01:13 pm (UTC)I'm glad you think so. Rochester wasn't a particularly happy time, although we did have some good times.
hazards of being too skinny
Dad always used to be sort of irritated by the way the Army was always going after the chubbier guys-- he felt that their standards weren't rigorous enough the other direction, but were too rigorous that way. A lot of his buddies in the National Guard were pushing the heavy end, and yet Dad felt perfectly confident in their abilities.
Not that he was going to kick up a fuss, of course, seeing as he was pretty close to the light end of the scale himself...
Eh, we all have our insecurities and difficulties, and everybody's got something to worry about. When you're always struggling with being too fat, it can seem unbelievable that anyone would ever have the opposite struggle, but there you have it. I hope you're finding eating less of a chore now...
no subject
Date: 2006-03-14 05:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-14 07:45 pm (UTC)Shyly's corset photo? Me too-- was that not clear in what I said?
I'm still ambivalent about some of the pictures on there. But I have to admit, I do like the idea. I'm trying to identify what about myself it would actually make me happy to change, and what about myself I only want to change because I seem to believe it will make other, real problems go away.
I think I do look better than I have in the past. I'm heavier than in high school, but not by much, and I wear clothes that fit now, which makes all the difference.