Right now Josh is downloading Shrek, and that makes me pretty happy. I love that movie. My favourite part is when Shrek and the donkey are making innuendo about the Prince overcompensating. Call me morbid, but I also like the part where Shrek and the princess are walking through the woods and he turns a little animal into a balloon for her. That, my friends, is cartoon romance at its best. It even beats out Pepe LePeu falling for the black cat who always ends up with a white paint stripe on her back. Just between you and me, I think Pepe has some issues that need to be addressed if he thinks a cat is a skunk.
I had a job interview on Saturday at Roger's Video. I hope they call me back for the next round of interviews, because I really need a job. I happened to casually mention that I was going to be studying film in the fall, so I'm hoping that gives me a little bit of an edge over other applicants, especially the little skanks from my school who showed up wearing miniskirts and platform shoes and the obligatory 10 layers of makeup and lip liner 10 shades darker than their lipstick. I also know for a fact that one of them lied about her age on the application. If any of them get a job and I don't, I will know that the manager's brain is obviously located between his legs. I refuse to cheapen myself to get a job, and that is their problem, not mine. I could go off on a big hissy fit menstrual rant right now, but I know that once I get started, I won't stop.
What the hell. I've got all night to sit here and type, so watch out.
I hate "grrl power" and all corrupted pop-culture-Spice-Girl-Britney-Barbie-Doll variations thereof. I hate that modern feminism seems to have become an army of dumb little twits who wear tiny little outfits and think that human equality means bashing men while trying to be sweet and cloying so that men will like them. Last time I checked, the definition of equality didn't include anything about being two-faced or having a superiority complex.
I hate how some people think that insulting fat people is the last safe prejudice. News flash: Not everyone who is overweight is lazy or unmotivated or sloppy or smells bad. I know lots of bigger people, and none of them fit into any of these categories. A friend of mine is on the wrestling team, and is very athletic. The only time I have ever seen her being lazy is when she's sick, and she doesn't smell bad unless she's been wrestling, and then it's sweat. Last time I checked, everybody sweats when they exercise. I'm overweight, and i don't smell that bad. Besides, it isn't this "fat people smell" that some people claim exists, my bad smell happens to be from the fact that my mother smokes a pack of cigarettes a day. Even the skinniest person would smell bad under those circumstances. And don't tell me that skinny people don't smell. There was a girl in one of my classes last year who had breath that always smelled like nail polish remover. It wasn't until recently I heard that people who starve themselves sometimes have that smell on their breath from ketosis, a kidney disorder in which your kidneys produce acetone (or acetate, I can't remember) and extra ketones (something that is in urine). Now I feel sorry for her, because she was obviously sick.
That's another thing I can't stand: People who try to be as skinny as possible at the expense of their health. Who cares if you look great if you can't leave your house because you feel too sick? I admit to doing the same thing when I was fifteen, so I'm not bitching about something I have no idea about. I hardly ate anything that summer, I was down to about 900 calories a day, which I have recently learned is the amount that Nazi doctors calculated to be the amount needed to sustain the lives of prisoners in concentration camps. I was sick. For awhile I felt great, then I began to crash and burn when puberty hit me full throttle (I was a late bloomer). Suddenly my bust ballooned out, and my hips expanded. I needed more food to grow, but I didn't give it to myself. Finally I hit critical mass after feeling too weak to do much of anything, and began to pack on the food. It felt so good to eat and have energy again. I went from a size 9 to a 16, but I felt so good and since I was feeling good I wanted to socialize again. I'm not against dieting (in fact I'm now a size 11 or 13 depending on the store and cut of clothes), but don't compromise your health. In fact, don't diet for reasons other than yourself. Don't do it so someone will like you more. If that's the case, forget them. Do it so that you feel better. I happen to be changing my eating habits and exercising so that I don't have as much trouble breathing. I'm not doing it because my mother has told me since I was eight years old, "A moment on the lips is a lifetime on the hips" or because people poked fun at me in school. I don't have to listen to my mother because I am an adult now, and I'm never going back to school, so who cares what they think? I want to live the best life I can, and that means lower dependence on my inhaler (which I haven't used in almost three months). If I have to lose some weight to do this, I figure it is a worthy trade. I want to run and jump and play wholeheartedly, not just lumber around panting and wheezing during a half-assed attempt to do chair aerobics. I don't care that my bottom will always be two sizes (or more) bigger than my top. Even when I was thinner, that was the way I was built. I just want to feel good and look healthy.
That's a lot of stuff off my chest. I feel exausted. Maybe I should go do less mentally taxing things for a while. I think I'm going to check if Shrek has finished downloading.