so, i'm in this funk tonite... why? apparently switching from a lifestyle of running all over campus going to classes to sitting on my bum programming 40 hours a week has had less then desirable effects. i'm gaining weight. and this depresses me. so i'm sitting here getting depressed, because i have a tummy, and then, i start to get angry. why the heck am i so concerned with having a flat model-like stomach??? why the heck should it bother me so bloody much? it's not like i'm unhealthy... i went from being a slender 110, to an average 130lbs. i don't look fat... and reality is, i'm not! but i'm upset because my my stomach isn't going to look sexy in a bikini. and this is just plain stupid. because i know my fiance is going to love me no matter what i look like, and he certainly finds me sexy.
but, every month, i open up my Glamour magazine, and come across that section that inevitably will be there, taunting me - the section that proclaims that I, Ms. Average Gal, could look like that hot model, if i do these simple exercises! wow! then, i turn and flip through my Maxim (i'm a well rounded gal!) and lo and behold... there's not a single article telling me how i could look better! no exercises to do, nothing about how to find the perfect swimsuit that maximizes my assets, and minimizes everything else! none of this ridiculous BS!
So ladies, why in the world are we so damned concerned with our appearance? why is it, that no matter what our logical brains tell us, we think that we have to have that super flat tight stomach, glowing skin, luscious boobs, etc, when the guys probably look at us and say: "damn, i'd hit it!" surely it can't be our fear of what guys think that make us so paranoid about our bodies, cuz quite frankly, while i take it as a compliment when a guy whistles at me, or smiles as he's checking me out, it's not enough... i'm still sitting here paranoid about the dreaded bikini season.
GAH! i have no point, i'm just ranting, but good grief ladies, we are really screwed up if every summer, we start freaking out over how we're gonna look in that new swimsuit.
worst thing is... as ridiculous as i know it is... sometimes, i just can't help myself. but oh well, tomorrow is another day.