Me: The pain from my workout of 2 days ago finally manifested itself. Could barely walk as my quads felt like blocks of cement. But I gritted my teeth and did a workout anyway. I kept on going to the "If you find this too hard..." section. Here's a goal - a real pushup by my birthday (you don't need to know when that is. There will be an all points alert. And perhaps an ad in the paper). Maintained a healthy diet today that included 1 itty-bitty, barely there glass of wine. Red. Brewed last week. Not only had legs but arms and a tail. Serves me right for being in an establishment where their idea of a wine list is a post-it note.
The world around me: So, according to an article in the press, there is a website called BeautifulPeople.com that has just purged its membership of over 500 Canadians and 5,000 folks worldwide because...they gained weight over the holidays, thereby altering their official designation of "hottie" to that of "fattie". Wind, or rather photos, of their trangressions came to the attention of the poobahs and they, in turn, shunned them. Yea, even other members turned them out into the night, crying after them,"Avaunt and quit our sight! Thou hast sinned in our eyes! Take thou thy fatted calves and darken not our doorstep!" Or they merely said "Ew.." and told them to hit the dusty trail. By email! "You're fat. Come back when we can bear to look at you."
The broo ha ha that ensued on the "Comments" board of said article was quite somethin'. There was the hue and cry of "That's so unfair!" and "How dare they?!" coupled with opposite reactions of "Well, they deserved it" and "The site is called BeautifulPeople, not BeautifulFatsos. D'uh!"
Know what I think?
When you join a club, understand and, more importantly, agree to the rules, woe to you should you break the rules and be caught out. And they were caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Literally. End of story. Bye-bye and don't let the door hit your (expanding) ass on the way out.
I can't, simply CANNOT wait for an ex-member to cry foul. I can hear it now:
(whimpers)But it was just that one time! Grandma Mamie won't be with us forever (sniffs) and I just had to have her Triple Chocolate, 7 Layer Dumplin' and Sausage Cake! I might never have it again! I'm still me! I'm still beautiful! Aren't I? AREN'T I??" (collapses in sobs)
No dear, you're not.
In the rules of your club, the rules you bought into, you're not. The rules of your club say that a fatty can never, ever, be beautiful.
I wouldn't be let into your club. I'm fat. So?
I got my own club of beautiful people.
In my club, I am beautiful. My eyes sparkle as I sit across from a friend talking over coffee. My smile beams and my voice peals with laughter when I watch little kids and their pets in the park. My face glows when I'm surrounded by the people I love.
It's not easy to maintain - but my club always gives me a second chance, or a third, or a fourth. I mean, I've been having a bad-hair life, but the people in my club aren't looking at that. I try not be ugly - mean, cruel, insensitive. So long as I don't break those rules, I am a beautiful person.
So I truly hope that the ex-BeautifulPeople.com-ers find a club like mine, and become actual beautiful people. And in my club, you're allowed a cookie.
LiliLaLarge
PS-If I've compelled any of you to start humming Christina Aguillera's "I am Beautiful", I truly apologize. That wasn't my intent. Quick, think of something else! The theme from the Jetson's! NOW!!!
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