Curves

Today’s personal pet peeve is the phrase “Real women have curves.” Well, guess what? Real women also don’t have curves, and I am yet again becoming annoyed by people fighting the stick-thin fashion model world by insisting that real women should be curvy. Yes, for women who are genetically designed to be curvy, it’s a good thing. For women like myself who were not genetically designed to be curvy, being told that “real women have curves” becomes annoying. I am, after all, a real woman even though I am somewhat lacking in curves.

I grew up before the super stick-thin model was held up as a symbol of ultimate beauty. Women were expected to have curves and hour glass figures. I was constantly informed of this, told to eat more, and basically made to feel like I didn’t fit in with society’s standard of beauty because I was built like Twiggy and not Sophia Loren. No amount of eating was ever going to change that (or ever did, and let me tell you I did try for a very long time). All that pressure to be something I wasn’t ever going to be gave me something of a poor self-image. I can’t tell you how badly I wanted to be more like Marilyn Monroe or Sophia Loren when I was a young girl. I wanted to have hips and cleavage and a tiny waist, because that’s what everyone seemed to believe was beautiful, while I was just cute. Well, I couldn’t make my body do something it wasn’t going to do.

Now thin is supposedly in, and I’m still getting grief about being thin. If it isn’t someone telling me to put some meat on my bones or assuming I starve myself to remain thin, it’s someone telling me that “real women have curves.” There are even people who have suggested to me that I shouldn’t be happy that a great portion of American society finds my particular body type attractive, because it’s unhealthy for young girls and women. I’m right with them that no one should be told they have to be skinny to be attractive, but going to the other extreme isn’t healthy either. Naturally skinny women haven’t stopped being born.

That’s about as much time as I have to rant about this, being in the middle of doing laundry and making dinner (and watching curling), but in closing I have one more thing to say. Please stop assuming that just because thin is in in the modeling world that a thin person has any sort of easy time finding clothing that fits them. Sure, they like to showcase the clothing on the runway and in ads on thin women, but by the time it gets to the retail floor, the fashion industry could care less about thin women … unless they can afford to go to designer boutiques or buy couture. There is far more nice clothing out there for women larger than myself than there is for women of my size, which is why I have been stuck wearing clothing meant for teenagers my entire adult life. So don’t think thin women are getting any special love from the fashion industry. We just make convenient coat hangers for their fashion shows. We certainly aren’t being catered to in any way.

And now … back to my meatloaf, baked potatoes, steamed broccoli, curling, and the piles and piles of laundry.

Busy, Busy!

I had a good weekend, my birthday was nice (and I think I gained a ton from all the sweets), and I’d sure like to tell you about it if it wasn’t Monday. Unfortunately, it is.

Mondays continue to be no kind of good at all.

Get to the Point Please?

The lawyer of one of Tiger Wood’s mistresses just said she was his girlfriend and lover and not a mistress. You’d think a lawyer might know the definition of “mistress” or at least know how to use a dictionary, but apparently not.

Mistress (noun): A married man’s mistress is a woman who is not his wife and with whom he is having a sexual relationship.

Yes, the girlfriend and lover of a married man is his mistress. Sorry if that sounds harsh to the women who were busy having sex with someone everyone on the planet knew was married, but that’s just too bad. They were mistresses.

Anyway, I’m waiting to hear from the spokesman of the family of the nutcase that flew the plane into the Eschelon Building. The other news channels are all covering either Obama or Woods exclusively, and at least Fox News has been checking in on how the gaggle of reporters with the spokesman are up to. Not that they have been up to anything other than grilling the guy on his career, who he is, and why he’d be helping the family. Seriously, grilling him. What does it matter who he used to work for or when he retired? What does it matter if he’s doing it as a favor for friends or if he was hired? He’s a spokesman. He’s there to tell us what the family wants us to know but isn’t up to saying in front of moronic reporters, and considering the idiotic questions they keep asking their spokesman about stuff that has no relevance to anything, I can’t say I blame them for not coming out of the house.

Hopefully everyone will eventually get their fill of asking stupid questions and let the guy read the prepared statement. I’d really like to hear what he has to say about the FAMILY and not his long career and what his relationship to the family is. I can only hope a reporter or two also decides that hearing about the relevent stuff is what they are there for.

Well, Is There?

I’ve got Fox News on this morning. Whenever there’s been something big happening, I like to turn it on to hear what the Fox News viewers might be ranting about later in the day and what their talking points are going to be.

While I was in the kitchen kneading my bread dough, I heard one of their chirpy female talking heads ask “Was there a plot to poison the food at Fort Jackson?” in that breathless way they do that always feels like so much sh*t-stirring. I went and paused the TV so I could finish up the bread kneading.

When I got back to the TV, I watched the little five or so minute report on whether or not there was a plot by students in the translator’s program to poison the food at Fort Jackson. End result? There have been no arrests, no one has been detained, the Army has investigated (and has been since December, so it’s actually old news anyway), and they found no credible evidence to suggest anyone was trying to poison the food at Fort Jackson.

So the answer to the chirpy talking head’s question is … NO.

They still managed to get excited about it anyway with a fair amount of hand-waving, raised eyebrows, and rhetorical questions that have no answers. They do love the rhetorical question method of modern journalism. I can play that game too. Do Fox News journalists have brains? Tune in later to find out!

And what they haven’t mentioned this morning is a freaking plane flying into a building in Austin while being piloted by an anti-tax, anti-religion, anti-union, pro-healthcare lunatic. Sort of odd, since the rest of the world does seem to be talking about it this morning. I guess they just don’t know how to label or pigeonhole him to suit their talking points. No, they’d rather babble on and on about Tiger Woods putting his penis in the vaginae of women who were not his wife.

Fair Warning

I wake up this morning to discover there are Americans who believe very strongly that Andrew Joseph Stack, the man who flew a plane into a building full of people in my city, is a hero. I don’t even have the words to describe my disgust at the moment.

Anyone reading these words I am typing right now who feels this guy was a hero, should remove my bookmark from their browser, unfriend me, or do whatever it takes to make sure they will not be able to read the words I am sure to come up with later in the day. I do not think Andrew Joseph Stack was a hero of any kind, and I am certain to be explaining why in great detail at some point in the near future. If he’s your vision of a proper American patriot, anything I have to say will only make you angry. Furthermore, if you believe that any American trying to kill other Americans is doing something heroic, I won’t be arguing with you. I will simply be removing you from my online existence by whatever means I can.

This announcement is going out to all locations where my words are carried, so everyone has now been warned and has the opportunity to take measures to avoid having to hear me denounce their oh-so-courageous “hero” heroism.

Poor Oppressed Airplane Owner

If I read one more blog post or online comment describing the guy who flew the plane into the Eschelon Building as oppressed, I will have to write a screed of my own. Anyone who thinks someone doing well enough to move across the country, start his own business, buy a house in a very nice neighborhood, drive a nice car, own his own airplane, and can pay a CPA to sort out his independent-contractor tax forms for him is “oppressed” needs look out the window of their ivory tower every so often … maybe even travel the world a little without staying in five-star hotels. There’s a world full of true oppression out there, and this guy isn’t a poster child for it.

It’d be funny if they weren’t being serious, but they are. Sorry, but I’m having a hard time feeling any sympathy for this poor, oppressed white guy who decided that leaving his wife and kid homeless –not to mention his wife was teaching piano out of their home, so now she’s also unemployed– likely still with an expensive tax issue to sort out, and very likely no insurance payouts for any of it seeing as he destroyed his own house, crashed his own plane, and took his own life. That’s true love!

And as if taking his own life and destroying anything of worth his surviving family might have used to live on without him, he also decides to fly his plane into a building full of people who probably never did any damn thing to him other than suggest he pay taxes on his unreported income. As far as I am concerned, he was nothing more than a selfish asshole more concerned with money than anything else and with a decent dose of crazy on the side. No, not oppressed, and certainly not the beginning of a slave revolt (as I read on one journal I will no longer be reading). If this guy was an oppressed slave, then what the hell does that make the vast majority of the rest of us?

And since owning your own plane is apparently a middle-class thing, when do I get mine? Never you say?! Come see the oppression inherent in the system!

NOTE: I have just gotten some new information on this whole mess, and once I totally verify it and have the time to sit and rant, there will, in fact, be a standard Just Orb rant about it. All you need to know right now is that this guy was a LOSER and was in trouble with the IRS for pretty much his entire adult life, not because the IRS is evil, but because this guy was an asshole who just didn’t want to pay taxes. But yeah, more later on the poor oppressed tax-evading airplane owner.

His Screed

The guy who flew the plane into the building was a software engineer originally from California, who snapped over continuing tax problems. What kind of tax problems? It seems he kept trying to not pay them.

I’m sure we’ll get plenty more information as this tale unfolds, but the screed he left behind is worth a read.

Pretty much, the dude was crazy. Maybe smart, but definitely crazy.

Austin in the News

It never fails that the day I turn off the local news right after Lin leaves and then stop paying attention to my computer, that would be when something BIG happens a couple miles from my house. Apparently, Lin and I are the last humans in the USA to hear about the crazy buy setting his house on fire, hopping into a plane, and crashing it into the IRS building over on 183.

Interestingly, I know exactly what I was doing at the moment he flew the plane into the building. I was on the bed, playing with the cats. I heard something at just about the right time for it to have been the plane flying into a building, but it didn’t sound serious enough or close enough or even dangerous enough to warrant a second thought. It sort of sounded like the trains do late at night when they are doing whatever it is trains do on the tracks over there (adding cars or something – loud thumping, crashing sounds) or the sound of the dumpsters being emptied at the nearby shopping center. It’s entirely possible, if not highly likely, that the plane flew over my house, but so many planes fly over my house on a regular basis I don’t even notice them anymore.

I’ve got the TV news on in the background, and I guess I’ll go see what the hell is going on in my hometown today.

There Will Be Emails

I just have a few things to say about my experiences using the official NBC Olympics web site while using an Intel iMac.

Screw NBC, The Olympics, and Microsoft. Double screw Silverlight. There will be emails. Oh yes, there will.

First, Firefox informed me that I am not a Canadian. Sort of a no-brainer, since I’m not. Alas, for some unknown reason, not being Canadian meant I couldn’t watch the videos being broadcast by NBC, which just so happens to not be Canadian as well.

Then, Safari informed me that Silverlight insisted I was sitting in front of a PPC iMac, and that it just wasn’t going to work. So sorry. I couldn’t find anywhere to download the correct version of the garbage, and after having to suffer the indignity of using Safari –quite possibly the worst browser I have ever used in my life– well, just, screw them. Didn’t want to watch their videos and be exposed to their commercials and advertisements anyway.

Though it would have been nice to have seen the gold medal run in the men’s half-pipe. The guy that won is gooooood.

But yes, there will be emails, because my user experience was quite a bit less than satisfactory, and I am 100% certain the problem isn’t on my side. When I spend ten times longer jumping through hoops trying to access data than it will take me to consume the data, let’s just say it gets under my skin in a very bad way.

Oh … and I think screw Firefox too, because I upgraded to the newest version a few days ago and have been having a less than satisfactory user experience with it too.

[thinks about it a minute]

Furthermore, it is beyond ridiculous for there to be one network covering The Olympics for an entire nation.

In fact, you know what? The Olympics completely suck. There’s just so much mindless, stupid, almost non-stop, “expert” commentary, because apparently NBC seems to believe that Americans can’t watch someone performing on ice without every tiny detail of the performance being discussed while it’s being performed. Maybe they are right and Americans are incapable of watching someone dance without requiring it to be explained to them step by step, but I rather doubt that.

The talking heads should just shut up and let the athlete perform. If someone was sitting next to me at an ice skating event and kept whispering in my ear, it’s highly likely it would lead to some sort of public spectacle. Especially if what they were whispering in my ear was as mind-bogglingly stupid as these the things that come out of the mouths of the commentators on NBC.

Did I mention I am turning 45 this weekend, the weather is going to be nasty, and I’m a walking bag of hormones? It’s safe to say I am cranky.

Middle-Aged Cold

I am so tired of the cold. Tired of the wet too. The sun has been out lately, but I don’t think I’ve felt warm for days now, no matter how warm it actually is in the house. I’m ready for the seasons to begin to change. It’s usually much nicer than this by my birthday.

Oh, and there’s going to be cloudy, cold, wet weather this weekend too, just to set the mood for completing my forty-fifth year on this planet. I can’t wait! Break out the black balloons and tombstones, I am declaring myself officially middle-aged on Saturday night!

My glee … can you feel it?

Statistically speaking, I should have officially declared myself middle-aged some years ago. I feel confident stating that the larger portion of my life is now behind me. Not necessarily the better portion, but certainly the larger one. The years ahead of me are fewer than I have seen before, but I still think the best is yet to come … or it’s happening right now. This may be the best it gets, and you know what?

I’m cool with that.

Oh sure, being rich, famous, lauded, stunningly gorgeous, living in a mansion with a full staff including a driver, gardener, and cook wouldn’t be something I couldn’t adapt to in about a day and a half, but my life isn’t bad. It fits me like a worn pair of jeans fresh from the dryer. I may complain about the knees being out and hems being frayed, but I still love the jeans.

Anyway, the weather’s going to be gross for my birthday, which is just as well, because all I really want to do is eat candies and be introspective. Or mopey. It’s possible I will be mopey.