I totally don't hate my body enough. Or, really, at all. I see pics of myself and think I'm cute. Even my "before" pic I put on this here blog...I think I look purty cute in it. I look in the mirror and think "lookin' good, bb". **shrug** When I look at pictures of the perfect models and celebrities in magazines and online, I marvel at the photoshop that has rendered them poreless and elbowless and obviously devoid of internal organs. I have no desire for that level of "perfection", even if it was attainable. Do I wear makeup on occasion? Yes. Do I pluck and wax and get my hurr did on occasion? Yes. But, my skin has texture and stretch marks and scars and rolls and room for all of my organs (just like everyone else's). I don't mind them or think they are some enemy to be purged. I don't prize thinness the way I'm obviously supposed to. I do however, really prize my left arm. I use it literally all the time.
OMG STACEY DON'T YOU WANT TO BE HEEAAALTHY??
News flash. I am healthy. I'm one of the healthiest people I know. All of my systems are awesome. Reproductive, circulatory, endocrine, all of it. I am active and able to do all the things I want to do. Here is me, a few hours ago:
My sex life is also super hot, in case you were wondering (and you totally were, ya nasty). I'm not self conscious or unable to get into a sexy frame of mind because I'm omgfat. I'm just not.
To review: I'm awesome, I don't care that I'm too fat, I don't care if you think I'm too fat, and having a left arm totally rules.
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