This blog is for the sole purpose of getting things off my chest, exploring the little known facts of humanity and falling over myself in my own general stupidity.
Fact #1: I’m a girl.
Fact #2: I swear… A lot. I don’t have to, but I like to give myself the freedom to chose whether I want to swear in this occasion, or not. Not to fall into the old ways of ‘I’ve got a vagina, so therefor I can’t utter those words.’
Fact #3: I don’t like to be stereotyped. Particularly the one that goes “…You’re skinny. So fuck you.”
The whole Skinny Vs Fat debate has raged in my mind from the age of about 10.
Before then, everyone fell into two categories: Nice and I’ll play with them. OR. Why don’t they like Me? They must be weird.
After that, I was almost trained to see the differences in people, and I think that is the wrong thing to do to our children.
Today, Fat is seen as someone who eats too much, but don’t do the ‘moving thing’, so don’t actually ever go back to their original size.
For me to believe that, is a bit of an ask- And it isn’t because I’m on the Fatter side, its that I’m on the ‘Have a fucking cheeseburger!’ side. I’m not excessively thin, but you can see my bones in the right light.
Being pale doesn’t help, so therefor I’m see-through.
And I’m short.
Tiny and See-through.
I can see the point of health specialists when they say that If we (as a people) don’t lose a couple of million kg’s in the next 100 years, we’ll see the end of our civilization. The health aspect will always override any issue, and so it should.
But, the thing that generally happens is, people are a little bit fat and BOOM!- civilization as a whole disowns them until they make the heart wrenching decision to not be happy, but to rather make themselves sick in order to fit into their little box.
Personally, I don’t care whether you’re size 8 or size 28. As long as you have a good heart and want to be a genuine friend, then we have no problem! My issue is with the media and today’s sociable ‘norms’ which must have a clause on them that states:
“You have to be between sizes 8-14.
If not, there will be complete and utter disembowelment from society and have your self-esteem and dignity revoked and must allow us to stand on your neck for the rest of eternity.”
And that makes people ever-so cranky with everyone who doesn’t fall into that category, i.e:
I dislike the poignant stares I get when shopping.
(-)They’re either stares from bigger girls, as I’m attempting to find clothes that are both Cheap and My Size (Which, is fucking impossible!!)
(-)Or stares from guys who are walking around with their significant other, who is generally bigger than me.
-The girls stare at me like I just farted.
Like there is something wrong with me getting a bit frustrated because eventually I have to go to the children’s section and try and find clothes there. (They fit, but ask any 25 year old if they’d walk around with Bert & Ernie on their shirt…)
It is so fucking irritating finding a lovely top or dress and seeing that the smallest they go is a size 10- and I try it, because I figure that not all sizes are truly accurate… but no!
It falls off me. So when I give it to the stuck up person working in the changing room, telling her it doesn’t fit, she generally looks me up and down and *tuts* as If I’ve just walked out naked.
-Then, I have to fend of the men who want to devour me with one stare.
Ok. I get it. I’m probably smaller and more petite than you’re current girl.
But, come the fuck on man.
There obviously is a reason that you’re with her, and not someone like me. I might be a total bitch, and she’s this lovely adorable girl who doesn’t care about your bad Hawaiian Shirt collection, and makes you a hot chocolate before bed every night.The sex can’t be that bad either, as you’re still with this amazing person standing beside you, smiling hopefully. I get that men think with their cock first, but that would only last 0.25 seconds before their brain could kick in and say;
“Excuse me, but you’re forgetting the beautiful creature on your arm at the present time. If you don’t pay her some attention, she’ll undoubtedly put bleach in that hot chocolate before bed, and we won’t wake up in the morning… ”
(NOTE: I’m most certainly not talking about all guys. Most probably just the tards who are not sure whether they want to fuck a person or a blowup doll tonight…)