Fat Sex on T.V.

I finally started season 4 of Homeland on ShowTime. I was pretty excited to finally get to start this season since I’ve been holding off for a while.

Cancer Free!

“You might not like the cards you have been dealt, but you are who you are because of them. You get a bad hand and it’s your choice how you can play it, but I promise if you choose not to fold, you will come out better than you could ever possibly imagine”

I got this best news of my life yesterday!

Things We’re All Too Young to Know

I read a lot of fanfiction. (Like, a lot.) I even write some. For those who aren’t familiar with the phenomenon, it can seem a strange and alien landscape. Some authors and actors welcome it, others revile it, but most would rather not know what their characters get up to in their readers’ and viewers’ heads. There’s even fanfiction written about real people—even if they’re in an alternate universe where magic works and the boys in that one band are firefighters or werewolves instead.

One fanfic trope that fascinates me and is particularly relevant to this class is that of mpreg, or male pregnancy.

Adoption or Pregnancy?

I’ve been struggling to think of a topic for my final blog post, but I think the topic totally relates to bodies.

Stay Warm and Live Better

Some people seem to manage well during extremely cold weather, while wearing very short skirts and almost nothing on their legs. They would dress up cute and show off their style, but forgetting it is actually winter time. 

Body Language

Body language is something we haven’t really talk about during class,

Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show: Message or Just for the Show

Is there a message being giving in the Victoria Secrets Fashion Show or is it just a show we should sit back and admire, or look to buy?

The Victoria Secrets Fashion Show 2014 currently aired yesterday for the 13th time on national television. It is one of the United States largely viewed fashion shows and is broadcast annually.  The show features many slender and nothing short of tall and fabulous women. Now the models and designers have been working all year round and about $2.5 million goes to charity.The designers construct the over-the-top glamorous wings and costumes for the models to strut their stuff down the lit up and animated stage. And for the models, a constant hunger strike to keep their body whipped in shape. Not a ounce of fat to be seen by the viewers on t.v or the anxious fans who paid $25,000 for a front view seat. Maybe hunger strike is to aggressive of a phrase to describe these women’s actions, but from my (admitted) bias views I wouldn’t know what else to call it. They eat very tiny to no carbs for most of their life and being “perfectly” skinny is their life career. Don’t get me wrong, I highly believe it is a fun and glamorous job and I understand why people would aspire to gain that position. I shop at Victoria’s Secret, faithfully supporting them on their over priced items, as well as watch the show annually.

Even with my love for the Victoria’s Secret/PINK line, is there something they are trying to tell us? Along with the harmless glamour, is there an underlining message or are they only selling to us and no fuss should be made? Regardless of their “harmless” fashion, the facts of mostly Caucasian and extremely skinny women can not pass my mind. I am on the fence with my opinion because showcasing their product on mannequin sized women for a “nicer” appearance tells us how are bodies should look or what we should be aspiring. Or would that be making a big deal out of just a fashion show. I just feel as a company looking to pursue women (even those who are not size 2 considering they sell large sizes), they should appeal to more type of women from different ethnic backgrounds and shapes/sizes. Because to me they are blindly supporting a “right body acceptance issue.”

“Deformity” or Nah?

Despite the fact that I usually hate it when complete strangers continuously hassle me on the bus, I guess I should be appreciative of the fact that I’m able to use this experience for a blog post!

Before I get into what happened on the bus, let me give you a little backstory. For a long time now, people have been really…curious about my fingers. You see, I wasn’t taught how to hold my writing utensils “properly”. By the time my fifth grade art teacher came along and tried to force me to do so by smacking my hands with a ruler (YEAH, I DIDN’T FORGET, HUMBERT!), it was too late. Her excruciatingly public displays of discipline frequently gained an audience. My peers would watch me like a hawk just to catch a glimpse of my unorthodox writing style. Well, turns out the way I hold my pencils wasn’t the only thing they caught wind of…

My New Body

My friend and ex co-worker moved to Georgia a couple of years ago. She began dating a guy I’d never met, but he seemed charasmatic and energetic enough to keep up with her. He was the best person to get to know through photos- bald with a beard down to his belt buckle, tattooed everywhere, and toured all the time with my friend and his metal band- they seemed to always be having a good time.

A month ago yesterday, they were in a motorcycle accident while he was driving. She’s still in the hospital with a few broken bones, but will make a full recovery. After being in a coma overnight, he passed away from his injuries the day after.

Like I said, I’ve never met him, but I’ve been so torn up about her loss, and have witnessed the journey of her mourning process since he passed. I have a very small family and have been fortunate to have never suffered tragic loss, so maybe her story seems bigger to me than it does to others, but it’s affecting me in real ways.

I’ve been questioning my mortality daily. Maybe because he was so young and so like me. Maybe because of how I’d feel if my boyfriend passed. He justified his literally hundreds of tattoos by saying he wanted to copy his grandfather’s dumb tattoos, and implying that it is merely flesh, and flesh is not permanent.

My goal is to remember that nothing is permanent. I’ve never even met him, and I got a tattoo for him. I hope it reminds me every day that soon enough I’ll be gone too, and to truly live happily and be kind to others because all of it only matters up until this moment.

*Inserts Witty Title Here*

I’ve typed out this final blog post about 6 times already and deleted it each time because I just wasn’t sure what to write about. Actually, I knew exactly what I wanted to write about but couldn’t because it felt a tad bit too personal. If anyone remembers from me saying in class, I hate sharing anything remotely personal online but after 6 attempts of trying to write about other less relevant things, I found myself stumped because I couldn’t go anywhere with it. Although this isn’t as deep as some of the other posts so far on the blog, I figured that since everyone else has been so open, I might as well. Here goes nothing…

Well, there is this problem that has been plaguing me for the past couple months. I am constantly at war with myself on how to portray myself professionally, so that I can be respected in the “industry” as a woman. And by this, I mean not as a slut. So that this will make more sense, I’ll say that I do a bunch of various “artistic” shit, but mainly, I’m a photographer and a clothing stylist, and a handful of my clients are Grammy-nominated musicians. I won’t name drop, but I had this incident not too long ago with one of my all-time, hands downnnnn second-to-favorite music artist…