Though I normally don’t indulge in anger I allowed myself the rare treat of getting worked up after first reading that calling someone fat has become more offensive than calling them worthless scum and then Wiki-walking myself to the Anti-fat Bias and The Thin Ideal articles. The relief I couldn’t help but feel for knowing I inhabited the safe section of the human form spectre and was therefore exempt from being harassed on the account of my weight only served to further my aggravation. I’m not much into enjoying the thanks-god-it’s-not-me sentiment as I find it all too similar to the toxic schadenfreude for my emotional comfort.
But seriously, why is it suddenly so wrong to be chubby? Not so long ago, some meat on your bones was considered a plus; a woman with ample curves was seen as appealing while a man with a nicely-rounded belly was perceived to be well-off and a guy to be reckoned with. At least where I live, there hardly seems to be any shortage of sayings to this effect. An entertainingly inebriated chap once told me he preferred a heavily-set lady to a lean one any day. (Why? Because, according to this wise fellow, the skinny one is liable to be concentrating on sucking her tummy in even under the sheets.) Continue reading Methinks: What’s your problem, it’s not like they ate YOUR cookies
Doctor: You need to quit smoking, drinking and eating junk immediately.
Patient: Nah, it’s too late for me anyway.
Doctor: Don’t say that, it’s never too late!
Patient: Well I guess I’ll just wait a while longer then.
I still think this joke is funny. But… When somebody close to you falls ill, nah, when enough people around you have developed chronic diseases to shatter your comfortable denial of the fact everyone’s arse -yours included – isn’t getting any younger, it’s time for some introspection and life-changing plans. I’ve been relying on my robust genetics and love of movement to keep me healthy and presentable for decades and I guess it would be wise to add healthy nutrition to the mix. I’m a vegetarian with an inclination towards occasional forays into the pescarian (=fish-eating) domain. My dad taught me how to fish when I was little and this is probably why I still consider fish fair game but it’s not something I’m particularly proud of. I’ve been helping take care of my mum’s koi and I’m finding this whole fisher-gatherer attitude increasingly difficult to pull off. It’s complicated 🙂 Continue reading Lifestyle decisions I
Bread cuts. I picked up half a loaf of day-old bread only to find myself shrieking like a surprised marmot upon feeling the crust deliver a ¼ inch gash between my thumb and index finger. I didn’t expect a half-eaten bun to fight back with such fervour and I’m not quite sure that’s proper behaviour for supermarket-bought food. I wonder what they’ve been putting into flour these days. Anyway, the idea of bread cutting me sounds like a Yakov Smirnoff joke.