New Wave of Plus Sized Models

http://community.livejournal.com/ohnotheydidnt/42159348.html#cutid1

So, I went back to skimming things on Oh No They Didn't and came across this, an article about how Glamour or some such stupid magazine will be featuring plus-sized models, and people who look like they actually eat. Ever. I was "Oh, okay. Next." But decided to skim the comments and was getting annoyed with the callous idiocy I was seeing there. People were disgusted that overweight people would be featured in magazines. They were complaining that they just lost weight, and now their last weight size was going to be considered 'acceptable' for magazines. I really don't know how much of what was written in the comments was serious or sarcasm, but if as much of it was serious as I thought when reading it these people have issues.

Yes, I'm overweight, I don't really care. I eat what I like which includes Brussels sprouts, and also chicken nuggets. I'll eat a salad, tacos, burritos, nachos, baked chicken, fried chicken, rotisserie chicken, fish, pork, beef sometimes. I don't care for exercise, but I miss fencing, but current medical crap hell, it's not even current anymore, just medical crap makes fencing a bad idea. It's my fault I weigh what I do, but it is encouraging for impressionable children that the people that get seen on television and in magazines show not just one unhealthy size.

I wonder how that change in ideals came about. I mean, in the span of about 100 years, the 20th century people went from thinking that big women were best to waifishly unhealthily tiny people were the most attractive. In the past weight meant wealth, you were able to feed your self and the children you'd have. Underweight, tiny people kind of look like their underfed. I know people who would be asked if they had problems at home because of their low weight, but in actuality the would eat.

More of my thoughts from that post are about the people who bitched and moaned about losing weight and working off baby fat. You don't work off baby fat, it goes on it's own. You work off real fat. But I say eat what makes you happy, just be logical about it. I mean, I love peanut butter and unless I get an allergy I always will, but I don't gorge myself on it. I gorge myself on improperly fed chicken and coffee. I am more disgusted when I see tiny, underweight people in magazines then when I see normally weighted people. I don't want to see special definitions for each weight class, just show me models. And how the fuck did they become 'super' models? What are their powers? What do they do, going above and beyond to help people?

This rant is all over the place. I've had a headache for the past few days, nothing really helps. My next one should be better, and I have a personal 'year in review' thing to post.

Jasmine P.

Adventures in Virginia Aug 10

Well, this morning on Twitter I announced my plans for the day as follows "morning all! time for New Glasses Adventure, Lease Notarizing Adventure, then 'Back to Norfolk Adventure. too bad it's not that exciting" apparently only 14 hours ago around 8 am.

Things went off normally. Got dressed, went to the bank to get my cosigner lease papers signed by Dorien, but the notary wasn't there, so we went over to the UPS store and got that taken care of. I went my separate way from my brother and was going to get my eyes checked out, but of course, Hour Eyes doesn't open until 10, and not 9, so I went over to the Safeway and got a Doubleshot plus, and some doughnuts. Munched on those in the parking lot than went into Hour Eyes. Sadly, one of the guys who works there that I normally see since I'm normally there in the evenings wasn't working, but oh well. Got checked in and had those fucking annoying tests. The one with the puff of air, and the one with the green rays around a red dot that goes in an out of focus. Went into the exam office and I apparently had the same doctor I had last year. Got my eyes checked out, and apparently my eyes have gotten a wee bit better, so my new glasses will have a smaller reading section of the bifocal lenses. Cheers, motherfucker! I picked out a nice new frame it's black and a bushed bronze. They're half rimmed, which makes me happy that I can finally find half-rimmed glasses for the size of my lenses.

I head back home and to my horror I see my brother on the naked side, thankfully from the side, but then I can see him man-tits. They hang, it was gross! ugh. I get my shit together, clean up the living room then head out in the midst of lunch hour traffic. it takes me almost an hour to get gas, wash my car, and get some food before I take the County Parkway instead of the beltway to I-95S.

On the actually interstate, the traffic moves pretty rapidly. I'm going at 80mph for most of the time. Before I actually get to 295S I stop in Ladysmith for some caffeine, tea and to use the euphemism in defense of the impending traffic I know I won't miss. Back on the road the congestion I'd been in the middle of was way away and the road was mostly clear.

Things are going well enough. I'm making alright time, it's going on 4 and I'm out in Yorktown, about 45min from Norfolk without traffic. With traffic, about and hour and a half. Seeing that things are getting on the congested side, my windows are open and I've hit the bored mood that happens from driving when I kind of don't care anymore and just want to get off the road. I'm looking for my Golds because I figure I'm going slow enough to be able to smoke one. Things are slowing down and my car is going faster than I thought and I rear-end this little piece of Taurus. Fucking a, indeed.

We pull off to the side of the road and I'm shaky. I get out of the car and look at my hood which is now mashed up behind one of the bumper bolts, and the bumper is cracked. The lights look a little cracked, but end up working fine. I go to the kid I hit, he just turned 20 at the beginning of the month. We exchange information and call the cops who take 30 min to get to us so we're out in the sun with traffic blowing past us. I have a smoke while we're waiting.

The cop, a state trooper, get there and checks out both cars an writes no report and we don't have to go to court. I mean, it gets filed and everything, but I don't have to go to court for riding too close to the kid, and he doesn't have to go to court because his license is expired.

I was a bit of a wreck, I was shaking and I started crying. I'm still not sure why. The left side of my neck aches a little and even now I kind of want to crack my back. My neck seems a little stiff when I look the left, but I think I'm pretty much alright. I figured I'd go to the hospital tomorrow if it seemed necessary.

Getting into Norfolk I just want to go to sleep. I'm tired from sleeping 5 hours and then driving for 5. I call Dorien while I'm in tunnel traffic, and later send him some photos. I take some of my own and call AllState. That takes me another hour and I'm just plain worn at this point. On Thursday I go to get AllState to check it out and hopefully soon I'll have a rental and my car will be fixed.

And on top of this I have work orientation in the morning. Promptly at 9. I'm cuttin' out and going to bed now. Waking at 7 to get ready, and hopefully have the time to swing by Borjo for a cup of coffee, or at least for something to eat. I'd rather be drawing.

On a happier note, my Pacino and J. M. Barrie biographies arrived while I was gone, along with my Threadless tees. Cheers! Josh bombed the apartment and killed a whole mess of roaches. downside? They're migrating to my room, fuckers. Duke was fine, and I think Josh may have watered my plants, if so, awesome. I need to dead head the peace lily. Soon. I watched Bonnie and Clyde. Horrible. Horrible flick. I think that's just about everything. I think I'll doodle right quick, then to sleep. Sweet, sweet sleep.

Jasmine P.