Wobble Women!

Theresa has memories of me and Kat sat around her kitchen table lamenting at the age of 11 that the boob fairy had yet to arrive and probably never would.

By the next summer we were once again sat around the kitchen table, this time whinging that we had boobs at all they are just ‘so damn uncomfortable’.

It would seem you can’t please people either way. Everything is too big or too small, too long or too short. In a society that prizes sleek silhouettes and tiny figures, it seems the smallest amount of excess body fat, can turn many a woman to tears.

I have always been a curvy woman; a love of food has done nothing to sate that fact. It just grates on me that people will judge me by the way I look. Just the other week I nearly decked some guy on the train who was sniggering at me talking to his girlfriend in a loud voice saying ‘That girl’s ass is as big as your bag!’ (the girl was carrying one of those enormous ‘you could practically live in it’ handbags) and it hurt you know.

At secondary school Kat was like a boa constrictor getting in and out of her PE kit without showing any skin in fear of bearing the wrath of ‘The Plastics’. The plastics being our own endearment for the girls who were stick thin, with 6 inches of foundation and always the first to start the criticisms ranging from witticism’s such as

‘who’d you steal your bra off? Your grandma?’ to just loathsome comments such as

‘Aww look at the fat cows in the corner their never going to get boyfriends’.

I think after a few years I just got fed up of it and learnt a new trick. Kat used to call me Flash Gordon as I could be in and out of the changing rooms in about 3 minutes.

The new trick? Just an attitude adjustment. Something along the lines of hang it you hags I don’t care what you see or what you say.

I guess in a way I owe them a thank you, for teaching me that it does nothing to be ashamed of your body, In fact it just weighs you down. I'm not saying I’m perfect far from it, I often have moments thinking what the hell do I look like. Wishing I could change things about the way I look.

But then I remember, women are real, what we see in the papers and films is not what real women look like. Most of the women on the billboards of London look like they need a bacon sandwich and a cup of tea, there’s nothing too them! Now that’s nothing against woman who are naturally built like that (Here’s looking at you Poppy), but most women are just not built like that and it was only about 6 months ago I think when I really realised I wasn't alone.

Whilst googling stuff about body image on the web I came across this most amazing website by an American photographer who goes by the name of Substantia Jones. Her project Adipositivity is all about being positive about being larger (the name coming from the words Adipose meaning of or relating to fat, and positivity). Her photo's of nude larger women made me re-evaluate the way I looked at myself and realised that being larger was absolutely nothing to be ashamed about.

Women have imperfections, women wobble! I know I sure do! And I am proud to say as such! Sure I'm no stick insect, heck I love my food too much to ever maintain being that skinny! But I’m proud of the body God gave me. Sure some people will always sneer, not liking what they see. But surely that shouldn't be my problem.

Some people will turn around at this blog piece and go that’s disgusting, they aren’t looking after themselves, and neither are you! I'm not here advocating obesity the point I’m trying to get across is that we should be proud of our bodies whatever our size or shape.

I come from a family of short curvy women, and chances are that means any daughters I have will most likely inherit those traits. If there’s one gift I could give them those future daughters of mine it would be the power to feel good about themselves.

I mean God doesn’t honestly care how big your ass is or what your hair looks like when you first get out of bed, he made it! He knows it all anyway and he still loves you!

So why are you hating on yourself?….just think about it

For those who want the web address for the website I mentioned it’s http://www.adipositivity.com/

I just find it very encouraging and beautiful, wonderful photography and wonderful women! Fair warning though some of the photo's can be a little racy, but then it is nude photography!

Loser like me

Firstly I totally need to blame Vicky for my Glee obsession (yes it is your fault!), but it would seem that even cheesy, addictive American TV can touch people.

The new glee song Loser like me really shot me back to my time in secondary school. I hated it, loathed every single minute. I was so sick of people getting me down for just being myself.

So what that I:

• Wear glasses
• Am a total book worm
• Sound like a guinea pig when I laugh
• Have boobs bigger than some peoples heads
• Am a happy clappy holy Joe bible basher (aka Christian)

Does any of it really matter?

Honest answer, no. Ok so I suck at sport, have no idea what to do with foundation and have never had sex but I'm the person I am supposed to be and no one and I will repeat that NO ONE is going to keep me down about it.

It really bugs me that I know so many incredible people, who feel totally crap about themselves due to self centred bullies who just get their kicks being horrible to each other.

We should be proud of who we are and not be afraid to flaunt it. Take some of my friends for example. Vicky is probably one of the tallest people I know, ok so finding trousers long enough can be an issue, but she has legs to die for. Kat though seen to most as ‘positively bizarre’ (probably due to our many many laughing fits over such things as llamas) is one of the fastest wise crackers and always knows how to cheer someone up. Alex was always labelled as the ‘nerd’ and people used to be really unkind to him. Yet still he finds time to help others who are struggling with their own work (Lord knows I would never have got my head around Pythagoras without him).

We are all people worth loving warts and all. Brain box, ballerina, footballer, Frankenstein. Heck even maths teachers.

So losers like me, lets not get ourselves down when people get mean, just remember…

YOUR AWESOME!

'I wanna potato Waffle!': the joys of drunken flatmates

Walking into the kitchen last night I was quite surprised to find Sam sprawled across the floor, after giving him a nudge with my foot I ascertained that he was in fact alive. Well judging by the groaning noises anyway.

After a a few more nudges and asking him if he was ok I finally got a vaguely intelligible reply of 'I wanna potato waffle!' After inspecting the toaster it appeared he was already making waffles lol. Best to leave him too it.

I'm really beginning to think this flat floor has a magnetic pull to drunken people. I myself have been passed out in the bathroom carefully looked after by the boys who checked on me and brought me water, and in the corridor leaving the flat mates to wonder if I had dissolved the next morning after I had finally crawled to bed leaving a massive pile of stuff behind me.

Hmm student life seems to have way too much alcohol involved. Seems Kishan is the only one to not have passed out in this flat. Even Jackie has and she doesn't even live here!

Think it's time I go pass out in my bed sooooo tired! Hopefully tonight I wont find Sam on the kitchen floor caus obviosuly its Kishan's turn.

My favourite antisocial behaviour..

Before you all think I'm secretly a granny beater in my spare time, I'm actually talking about reading.

It seems barely a day goes by when I haven't spent part of it with my head in a book. I learned to read age 3 (thanks mum) and I haven't really stopped since.

My book collection is now so big I regularly have book slides. You ever been hit on the head by the full works of Cassandra Clare? Nope didn't think so. It would be a lot easier if my bookshelf here wasn't attached to the joining wall of mine and Kishans room. Every time he hits his wall books go flying.

I think the reason I love reading so much is that it's a form of escapism. When I was in school I used to get bullied so badly, but even on the worst days I could grab a good book. I remember being sat in Winsham primary school hall reading Harry potter and the chamber of secrets whilst bawling my eyes out and eating prawn cocktail crisps.

Some books can mean more than freedom, they can mean life. There's a reason why the bible is the top selling book of all time because it really speaks to people. It can comfort and chastise, encourage and inform. It's the worlds best self help book and the worlds best story book.

When I was little despite the fact my mother was mostly without religious conviction she used to read me bible stories. Moses in the rushes, Jesus and Lazerous. I even had a pop up bible (I soooo wish I still had it) with tabs so you could part the red sea and follow the Christmas star across the page.

I guess one of the reasons I write is to repay the authors that kept me sane. To encourage the next generation the way they encouraged me.

I own I would estimate over 300 books, and hopefully one day my own books will be on the shelf beside them. Now just how to explain to Dad how the amount of books I brought to uni has doubled since September oo er....

The sunshine makes me...home sick

As I stood on the platform at Canning Town station, in my short sleeve t-shirt soaking up as much vitamin D as physically possible from the sunshine I couldn't help but sigh.

I love the sunshine it makes London seem colourful and cheery. Even the harden locals crack a smile and seem to be walking with a spring in their step. Blast the beach boys for summer is (almost) here!

But I'm a country girl through and through to the point that once on a trip to Bristol I scared the poor woman I was sat next to on the coach by squealing so loudly because I saw a....sheep. Come on it had been at least 3 months since I had seen one, you could even say I was sheep deprived :P

I miss a breeze that smells of crops and manure, not car fumes and tourists. Sunshine may bring London to life, but it brings my longings with it. As nice as London can look with canary wharf twinkling in the sunshine, I can't help but remember how gorgeous Somerset is at this time of year, when everything is blooming, the bunnies jumping in and out of the hedge rows causing new drivers to swear and swerve.

I want, to be walking in the woods, swimming in the sea. But at least I have it all to look forward to when I go home for Easter. I just have to appreciate the positives of a warm spring London, such as not having to freeze every time the smokers want a fag and not having to worry about booking your coat into the cloak room at whatever club.

But do excuse me if you don't see me much during the holidays, I will probably be out somewhere hugging trees glad to be home :)

The Future

It is dawning on me how really University is the easy part of life. We've already made the biggest decision we are going to make for quite a while. What to study, where to live are pretty big decisions in themselves, but they aren't permanent. You can change course, move house as often or as little as you want.

The future appears fluid, like anything is possible. Me when I think about the future I always used to picture myself at my desk in my future home looking out on the back garden or fields where my children would be playing and a big cat asleep atop all my notes, snoring in all its fluffiness.

But is that really where I'm going to end up? Probably not, in all truth it's a very selfish picture. I am forever tooing and throwing about whether I would make a good parent. Mostly I side on the side of no I would not. But even if I did make a decent parent is it even fair to bring a child into a world that has so many issues. War, famine, natural disasters, my cooking.

The fact is that I can't help but think my ideal future is entirely selfish. When I walk into Christian union most weeks I'm meet by a crowd of people who are mostly doing economics or degrees that will go on to help them to help people in third world country's. Me I'm doing Creative writing a fairly useless degree if there ever was one, it leaves me two choices, live in hope I make it as a published writer, or go into teaching.

My friend Vicky dreams of opening a bakery and a care home and having a full brood of children (of which I hope to be god mother to at least one!) and I honestly think she will achieve it. Despite her set backs such as her dyslexia she will always fight for what she wants, and she's one of the most maternal women you could ever hope to meet. She'd probably do a better job of raising my kids than I would.

Other friends seem to have it all figured out. Guess I really don't know what I'm doing, all I've ever wanted to do is write. Trying to write a blog post for every day of lent is proving interesting. It's nice to be pushing myself to do it and not giving up even when it goes a bit wrong.

It gives me the hope that maybe one day I may actually make it as a writer, or whatever else I'm supposed to be. I guess just some days I wish the path was a little clearer, less pot holes and punctuation errors.

Well either way I live in the hope that my life will not be selfish, that I can help those around me and that the wives (my close girlfriends and co from college) get to live up to all their dreams and expectations. Because to be honest they rock.

I still want that cat though

Accents...

Accents, we've all got one, even those who are in denial (myself included).

Many a debate has raged in recent days about who sounds like what. Personally I blame Gene. It's all his fault, he started it lets stick him in the gallows.

Want to know what he said? Of course you do.....He called me posh!!!

I'm from Somerset and though I never (thankfully) inherited the local OO AR, I still don't exactly sound like the classiest girl around. Especially with my astounding lack of tact which means I normally say exactly what I'm thinking without censorship causing enormous amounts of trouble.

So of course I practically spat my sandwich across the keyboard (we were chatting on msn) if anything he is the posh one!

Really wish I hadn't tried to back up my indignation by asking Annie and the flatmates. 'You do sound Posh Rach in your own way, though you got a somerset twang' said Sam who's also from Somerset 'ahem' Bristol.

O lordy I should never have asked in the first place, we all have our accents, good, bad, northern. I just wish I wasn't told about mine.