Arrrggghhh!

Not like the pirate! No, this is a frustrated growl at the growing stupidity that is society.

Just the other day, I found out that America's Next Top Model just had a 'plus size' winner.

She's a size 10.

And she's 'plus sized'.

A SIZE 10 IS NOT 'PLUS SIZED'! No matter what. The national average size is a 12. If someone is going to be 'plus sized' they should at least be a 16!

The only thing wrong with that model is that she had an butt. None of the other models had a butt. In fact I don't think there are any models out there that actually have any actual body parts other than skin and bones.

I may be heavy, but I'm working on that. I'm trying not to stress too much about my weight, I'm just trying to get healthy again. Belly dancing at least twice a week, and walking/swimming/biking/lifting weights at least twice a week will do that.

Another thing: BMI (body mass index) is probably the biggest load of bulls**t out there. People forget that muscle weighs more than fat. There are body builders out there that are technically 'obese' because they're 6 feet tall and 290lbs!

I have gotten teased about my weight for as long as I can remember, and it's a pretty sensitive subject for me. I've struggled for years to accept who I am and what I look like. Faires are pretty much the only time I feel truly comfortable in my skin because the rule there is 'if you got it, flaunt it!. I get teased by older men about my ample chest, but it's all in 'clean' fun. They don't mean anything by it, and it sometimes gets me free stuff just for teasing them back. Some of the women are jealous of my generous 'tracks of land' because I fill out the bodices more and still look good wearing them. Faires are really the happiest times for me.

Well, that's my rant for tonight. I'm too tired to keep it up now. Ranting really takes it out of you!

M

Fantastic Dog

A good friend and I have been walking about 2 miles once or twice a week at a local park getting ready for a big hike that we'll be taking either this summer or next. We normally spend a lot of time just visiting after the walk, sitting on our cars or in the grass when the sun is out, and under the shelter when the wind and rain kick in.

Today was no different.

We talked about a book we were both reading (American Gods By Neil Gaimen. Fantastic book!), and I happened to notice a beautiful dog out having a grand time running off his leash. He was sniffing at everything and running over to my friend and I begging to be played with. When we saw him running around, we both knew he was a nice dog (his body language was friendly), so we petted him and watched as he ran around. We couldn't figure out who his owner was, and he didn't have a collar on, so we thought he ran away or something.

We talked longer and finally saw someone 'claim' the dog. He called it by name, and the dog seemed to understand that it was time to go home. The guy got into the big van, started the engine, got out of the van and opened the side door to let Sweet Dog jump in.

Then he drove away. The door was still open, and the dog was running alongside the van. My friend and I both thought it was kind of funny (the guy was driving pretty slow so the dog could probably jump into the van), and we figured that he would stop and let the dog into the van and close the door before he got to the main street.

Not so much.

About 20 minutes later, she and I were going to a favorite store, and I noticed the dog running through the street. Cars were narrowly missing the dog as he bounded around, and my friend pulled over to the side to try to catch the dog.

We got him into the car (he has impeccable car manners), and now she plans on keeping the dog (even if the stupid 'owner' puts up signs, she still plans on keeping the dog).

People like that guy who had the dog make me so mad! His dog was nearly hit a couple of times, and he seems so confused as to why he is at a new home. He has good leash manners, great car manners, and he gets along with my friend's other dog wonderfully. I'm glad he's found a good home now.

M