TCS: Tech Central Station - Getting Exercised About Exercise

Yeah, I knew it. Exercise makes you fat. But you know what? Who cares, you might not be thin...but your heart and whatnot will be healthier? Well, I guess just about everyone cares because people don't care about health (they think they do) but really just want to fit society's image...but that's besides the point. I knew that it doesn't make you thin...I was fat when I swam competitively (and kicked ass, if I do say so myself...so what if I had an advantage...fat=floats) for a good 10 years.

This article is the perfect example why people are crazy. There are 100 million different opinions on what is "right." I'll tell you what's right. But what's right for me is probably NOT right for you. Rather than encouraging people to exercise because it feels good when you do (maybe not during...but the after is great!) and it's good for you and encouraging them to put good things in their bodies because lots of good for you things also taste good and that you don't put horse shit in your gas tank to run your car so you shouldn't put crap in your body to run it, but allowing them to make their own decisions on what is right for them without trying to shove a money making agenda on them is making people insane. Looking the way insurance companies and fashion magazines tell us to is NOT a reason to exercise and eat healthy. But according to this, exercise ain't gona do it for ya anyway. Not to mention that diets are about as unhealthy as you can gets...drugs, shakes, processed foods, and chemicals (including nutrasweet) is NOT the way God intended for his people to fuel their bodies.

And don't even get me started on Anna Nicole. I want to kick her in her big fake titties everytime she says "Trim Spa, Baby." She is so predictable it's not even funny, actually it is...seeing as how really truly stupid people are pretty funny. One of the first things I said to my mom when I saw her show was "Watch, this will air and she will she herself and she will do some crazy diet." I personally thought she looked pretty hot when she was fat, but hey...I'm a tad biased.

Ok, rant over. Thanks. Oh wait. I forgot to include how this started as a pissed-off-fat-pride-day.

SO I went to the salon (I'm resisting the urge to call it the beautyshop as my mother and grandmother and most people from Hobbs do). I've yet to find someone here who I like the way they cut my hair, in fact, I haven't even attempted to find someone in about 2 years...during that time I just get it cut in Lubbock when I'm home.

But this cute little place, Jolie (French for cute, so they told me today), opened RIGHT by my house and Vic gets his 'brows waxed there sometimes. I went with him yesterday, checked it out, it passed my inspection, so I made an appt for today to get cut AND COLORED...I'm blonde again. Not super blonde, but lots of good highlights.

Anyway, what the fuck is a "smock"??? I sit in the chair and we formulate a game plan and then Robin says "I'm going to mix the color, you can go right in this dressing room and put on a smock." I'm instantly scared. Not for myself, but for the rest of the people in the salon. I casually walk to the dressing room, open the heavy door and swing it wide. I knew as soon as I saw the thick wood hangers holding a dozen or so black coat-things that they were One Size Fits Some. Someone other then me. I decide I'd better get a closer look before making a scene, but I should have saved myself some time and just got out my lighter and smoked these bad boys.

I unsnap the one snap and slide it off the hanger, noticing in the mirror that two lounging employees have noticed my door is open and are watching me. I slide it on, saying a prayer of thanks that I'm flexible because I damn near had to touch my elbows to get my arms in the sleeves. It covered my back side. So I, hunching my shoulders together so not to rip the "smock" in half, march out of the room and into the middle of the swanky salon and loudly say "ROBIN, YOU HAVE A PROBLEM!" She comes running around the corner, obviously shocked by my loudness, and I announce "Maybe if we were coloring my leg hair, this might protect my left foot...but we aren't and this it is absolutely unacceptable to offer this as the standard. I'm able to stand up for myself, but a lot of fat people would have been embarrassed by this and probably left...the one size fits ALL cape is a much better choice, so if you have one...great! If not, I will need to cancel this appointment."

Yeah, everyone was staring. But I had the best adrenaline rush I've had in years! Robin, being very sweet, ran over to my side and helped pry the "smock" off and said "Of course we have a cape, I'm terribly sorry! I wasn't even thinking!" People eventually went back to normal, after whispering to one another for a while. I later explained to her that I wasn't trying to be a bitch, but with the majority of the people in this country being fat (at least categorized that way) that their is no reason to shame myself because THEY attempted to dress me in something to small...not my problem, theirs! So totally agreed and actually seemed to be genuinely interested to what I was saying to help fat people feel more comfortable.

I could tell you all the story about me and the day spa at the Dessert Inn in Vegas...but it would pretty much be repeating myself except it was a terricloth robe and I ended up dressed in a bedsheet tied on like a toga. Misti loves that story.

I do have to admit that I was terrified that she was going to jack up my hair after my fit. But, thankfully, she didn't. It actually looks pretty good...I think...I never can tell until I get to fix it myself.