So I have a few peculiarities... is that a word?

HAH! It is! :D Didn't even know that.

As with any warm-blooded person on this planet, I have a few things I'm peculiar about. The lesser ones aren't a big problem. Such as if I kiss my fiance's left cheek I have to kiss the right cheek.

I have to stretch in a certain way or it'll drive me nuts.

If I rub my hands with lotion I have to really get in between the fingers at least ten or more times in a certain pattern.

Certain areas on my back, when rubbed, force my body into a weird episode of shivers/convultions.

See, small things. The bigger ones are the more irrational ones. Such as when I refuse to eat red spaghetti sauce becaue it reminds me of the monsters I killed while playing Doom 64 when I was younger.

I hate reheating ground meat beause it looks like cooked brain matter. Though I'm getting better by starting out slow. Today, reheated hamburgers. In the future, Meatloaf, my Arch Nemesis!

There's lots. But the one that amuses/irriates my fiance the most is because of that scene from The Cell. Y'know the one, where a creepy dude takes out what's-his-face's intestines through a hole in his stomach? Yeah, that scene? Creeped me out to the point where I do NOT let anyone NEAR my belly button for fear that their hands will somehow sprout giant drills and make a hole to rip out my insides.

I'm not even kidding. When Mike (that's his name) (okay, yeah, that was probably a "duh" moment) first tried to touch me there, I flipped. Shrieking and hitting of the hands were immediatley had, followed by a growl and a threat of "If you EVER touch me there again I'll... I'll... I'll do something to you!"

Okay, perhaps it's less of an irritation and more amusement for him. Because he keeps doing it. And it really gets on my nerves 'cause I'm seriously afraid! I used to try and overcome this insane perculiarity by slowly touching the inside part of my belly button (gross) or just resting Mike's hand on top of it.

Nope. Not workin'.

Within seconds of having his hand on top of my belly, I can feel that cold pointy point of the drill and immediately have to shove his hand away lest it burrows deep into my tubby flesh.

Yeah, I'm a special girl. :D

Though now that I think about it, there is my one peculiarity that really bugs him. And unfortunately I can't really do anything about it 'cause, well... Here, backstory.

So when I was younger, and unfortunately much like other girls, there was an "incident" with a boy. Granted, mine was a LOT less severe than others. Which makes me feel more like a wuss because of my aversion to certain kinds of movies/tv shows/entertainment things.

See, I have an insane amount of hypersensitivity when it comes to sexual violence of women in entertainment (to the point where I can't even type or say the r-word as you can see here). Most of the time it doesn't interfere with anything, but there are a few points when it does.

Such as when friends come over and we rock out to Rock Band. I refuse to sing the one song (which I've forgotten the name and have scoured the playlist for and now can't find, UGH) because you bellow out for at least 15 seconds the r-word. Yeaaaaah, that's kinda awkward.

Or when a new movie comes out that looks insanely interesting, but because it has scenes depicting the violence I can't watch it. Such as Clockwork Orange or Push, two movies with terrific reviews and highly regarded as good movies to watch that I simply can't bear to see. It's also bothersome when someone talks about a movie and I have to ask if it has sexual violence towards women in it. Then they ususally give me a weird look. >_<

Or when Mike and I are laying in bed and watching Star Trek. Well, the title Violations should've been a tip-off for me. Nope, Captain Oblivious right here. When Deanna Troi begins to remember scenes with Riker and he becomes forceful with her sexually, yeaaaaah... The night went down like this!

"Okay, we're done!" I immediately chirped, lurching too quickly close the laptop lid and buried myself in the blankets and pillows. Mike sighed audibly and we spent the next ten minutes in silence.

We finally talked about it and a long discussion ensured (of which I won't bore you of the details and I can't bring myself to share that much intimacy on the internet anyway. But our sex lives? I'll totally toot the horn about. *dur hur, "toot the horn"*).

So, you'd think I'd be hypersenitive to all kinds, right? Wrong.

During my teen years, I fell in love with online role playing. I'd create characters and people with like-minds would get on a chat system and we'd play together, being our respective characters. In my very early teens I surrounded myself with girls (and probably some boys, but it's the internet, you can never tell) who fell into a particular group- violent gay love between boys/men.

I thrived in this community and spent most, if not all, of my nights surrounded by males kissing, love-making, and, occasionally, raping each other. *headdesks* See, there's the word! I can say it when it comes to men, but with women? I stutter and feel a tightness in my chest.

It's terrible and I feel insanely guilty of it. I've become hypersensitive to women in violent sexual situations, but am desensitized when it comes to men. I know full well it was my way of coping with what happened to me (and to my sister). By hurting the gender that had hurt me, I was "getting back at them".

(I don't want to say heal, 'cause obviously I still have issues.)

What bothers me slightly is that my fiance doesn't quite understand. I mean, I'm not proud of myself. And if I found out a man was raped in real life, I feel terrible! Perhaps not as strongly adverse to it if it were a woman, but I don't go "Oh well, he deserved it". No one deserves that, I don't care what gender you are.

I've tried several times to take my hypersensitivity down a notch or two, but both times were dismal failures. Plus, a voice in the back of my head's going "WHY do you want to expose yourself to this?". I feel sick when I even catch a glimpse of it on the TV 'n at, so what makes me think I can endure it for more than two seconds?

Still not too sure on what I should do. On one hand, why would I want to be desensitized? On the other, I strive for equality in every portion of my life. Shouldn't that also apply to this?

Ugh! D: For once I have no clue how to wrap up a post other than to say I'm full of conflict.

I love my walking route~

Thus far I've been pretty okay with walking every night. Why night? 'Cause there's no sunrays pounding down on me and making me feel ten times heavier than I am. Walking in the horrible heat of summer? Not so much fun for a tubby girl.

Night time provides no sunlight, gentle breezes, and, most importantly, no traffic (of cars or humans).

While being a social-kinda gal (I live for parties in our house), I really prefer to walk on my own. No talking means I'm not gasping for air. I also tend to day dream and I've found walking is a fantastic way of fantasizing about a multitude of subjects.

-My fiance's ass
-My various characters and their respective novels that will never get written down I will write someday
-The home my fiance and I will own this time next year
-My goals (short term or long term)
-My sex life
-My career
-Worrying about my best buddy and the direction of his life
-Past friendships that have ended
-Etc...

And those're the tip of the iceburg! So walking alone at night (with a cell phone in case any creeps are around) is ideal for someone like me.

Unfortunately, my neighbor thinks otherwise.

I came home one night to find her outside. She's incredibly friendly and has an adorable dog. I really like her, as she's pretty much one of two social neighbors we have on our small block of townhouses. So we get along splendidly.

"I see you walkin'!" she greets me when I came home this particular night.

"Yep!" I reply. "I'm trying to keep in shape."

"Man, I see you walkin' and I just think 'It ain't right to walk alone, you need a walkin' buddy'!" she laughs. I laugh too, but inside I cringe.

Nooooo! I wanna walk alone! is one of the things I want to say, but I just smile and laugh. We end up talking for about an hour. And let me tell you. My big mouth moves fast and can talk about a variety of subjects from my cats to my dolls. But when it comes to like-mouthed people? I tend to shut up and let them do the talking.

'Cause it's just SO much fun!

Like, seriously. There isn't any sarcasm in that sentence. My neighbor talked about her job, her ex-husband, her brother, her sons, and her dog in this hour conversation. It was fantastic! I love hearing about other people's lives 'n at. It's just so interesting to me, 'cause it's like "Man, I wonder what my life would be like if it was like hers...", y'know?

So anyway, we had that talk about three days ago. *cough* And I kinda haven't been walking until tonight 'cause I've been kind of dreading if she was home and she'd go walking with me.

But I couldn't keep putting off walking. So I sucked it up and called her to let her know I was about to walk.

Ring, ring, ring, VOICE MAIL! Whoot!

And so I ventured forth alone with my thoughts, yes! My walking route is awesome~

It takes me twenty minutes all together. I work various muscles because it's not just flat surface (though I wouldn't mind that every once and a while). I start my walk going up a short 30-degree hill that curves to the left. The it slopes downward very lightly before flattening out. It's only flat for a few hundred feet before it goes to a gentle slope uphill, then a sharper degree.

At the top of the hill, I have two options;

1) Keep straight and go down a sloping curve before trekking up a steep hill to the original top of the hill.

Or

2) Go left and down the steep hill then take the gentle slope upwards to the original spot.

My usual route is the former. I find it's a great workout and I can feel my muslces working. If I'm feeling really tired that day or if I'm just not up to it, then I take the latter of the two. Either way, it's a great walk and I'm in love with it.

I'm debating whether I want to buy a scale or not. After all, this is all about me trying to get in shape and continue to BE my lovely shape, not loose weight. But without any kind of device to assist in keeping track of all of this, how am I to measure my success?

I do know that when I'm walking, my knees and ankles feel a lot better and I don't hurt as much. My breathing is easier and my emotional state is optomistic and happy times. So at least I can measure that much.

So here's to hoping I get to continue this alone and if I do get company it's only rarely.

PS- I keep my cell phone in hand the entire time I'm walking. The second I feel someone following me or if I'm noticing the same car passing me more than twice, I'm dialing 911, paranoia be damned.

Stop revolting! D:

Throughout my life, I've been at war with my body. Sometimes I love it, sometimes I hate it. I'm finally at a stage where I love my body and the perks to it. I have five thus far;

1) I have lots of squishy bits so when I fall or hit into something it protects the bones more.

2) Because of my big-ass ass, I get more room when in smaller places 'cause people think tubby girls have horrible fat-cooties.

3) I can eat whatever the hell I want and not have to worry about the calories 'n at.

4) My face has a really pretty shape which I'm sure is molded from the fat. Also, chipmunk cheeks = more cute freckles!

5) My legs tend to be stronger than most 'cause it's been carrying around a lot more weight and as long as I wear the proper footwear, my knees aren't bad (though my knees are another story, thanks to physical peer abuse from the assholes in middle/high school! <3 Thanks fuckers!).

And apart from my tubby body, there are a few other things I love about myself. My hair is one of them, but the most important one was my lack of acne.

That was the ONE thing I had on all of those jerks in middle/high school! While they were making fun of me and pushing me around, I could look at their faces, marred from those disgusting little potholes filled with teenaged angst and pus, and be able to (kind of) shrug off their words of hate.

Haha! I'd think, At least my face doesn't look like a war zone, pizza boy!

This has carried on even into my late teens/early twenties. At least, until now.

Is it because I'm walking on a daily basis now, body?! Is it 'cause I haven't had pop in over a month?! I THOUGHT YOU LIKED PEACHES?!?!

Like a thirteen-year-old boy who is horrified into believing that his zits are the result of thinking about girls and their tiny bumps, parts of my face are breaking out into horrible white-headed dots.

(Oooh, I know. A post about pimples on a tubby girl is JUST what you need to read about at 12 am. Welcome!)

I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps this healthy lifestyle is what's causing it? Perhaps I'm a strange minority where chocolate and pop prevent zits rather than assist their growth? Though, wait, didn't they do a study saying that there was not relation?

Eh, kinda? It seems a majority says "no, chocolate isn't the cause." and some say "maaaaybe..."

Though the one about the very angry older lady reminds me very much about my brother. My brother used to get pimples quite a bit from eating candy and drinking pop. One day he decided to slim down on the snacks 'n at.

A day later? NO acne what-so-ever. His face completely cleared up.

And about a year or so later, he drank a single glass of orange pop. And guess what happened?

Yep. Two big ass fuckers RIGHT there on his nose. We laughed at him (us sisters are so supportive~) and he swore off pop forever. Now he drinks that green tea shit. BLEH, give me my glass of water (or frappucino) and I'm set.

BTW, my fiance is a genius~ He decided to start saving his leftover coffee in the fridge and now we get homemade lattes. LOVE HIM. Though now we're out of sugar a lot earlier than usual. *eh heh...* What can I say? My soul was born in the South.

So until I figure out what is causing my zits, I'll just keep drowning in Sea Breeze and wash my face with my fiance's Pro-Active. Surely they'll start working!

(Though now that I think about it, I'm getting married in little over a month from now... That POSSIBLY can't be the cause for my sudden case of acne, can it? ... Ffffuuuuuuuuuuuuu... )

Ugh, for fuck's sake...

Backspace key, I hate you.

I had a nice, thoughful, kinda humorous (okay, yeah, not really) post ready to send out to the world, and you fuck it up.

I shan't ever forgive you. Now if only I can quit you.

Good thing backspace key can't interfere with my real life. Er, wait, maybe it should be able to. My mistakes are many. From time management to friendships, there ain't a thing in my life that I haven't screwed up at least once.

For instance! Finances! I live with my fiance and, bless his wonderfully sexy heart, he takes on the rent for our home. I still cover two of the bills, do groceries every now and then, and pay my own financial problems.

Such as student loans. I'm almost done though! Less than two thousand to go. Thank you community college for being soooo cheap! I <3 you. It's actually the entire reason why he's shouldering this burden. It was his idea, too.

But it's just come to my attention (via a good friend) that I've been taking advantage of that. Suuuure, I could've put fifty dollars towards the loans, but no! I simply had to have one of those tupperware-type parties in my house. Or the time before when I had to go craft shopping when I already HAD crafts at home. Or the anime box set that was on a really good sale (including with my employee discount; All four box sets of The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya anime for under $150? DONE!).

So along with this new pledge to exercise more and eat healthier (though these peaches ain't tastin' good at all. BLEH), I'm gonna make sure I cut down on the "nessessary" expenses.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not the type to go out and buy dresss and frivilous items like an espresso maker. Crafting is kind of my little side business. And I love having friends over to our house. But I shouldn't have any of those until 1) My crafting business is able to pay for itself and 2) I'M FINISHED PAYING OFF MY LOAN AND FUCKING OVER MY FIANCE.
(It also helped that he sternly talked to me after the part. So now everytime I'm tempted, his voice rings in my head "DON'T DO IT, YA BITCH")

So to make up for those many months, I'm gonna do my gosh-darned bestest to ensure that he'll be a little less stressed and more pleased~ Starting with the kitchen and movin' aaaaaaall the way into the bedroom.

Hm, I think I have a topic for my next post now; How Fat Chicks ROCK the bedroom and their men/women. Both literally and sexily.

Tubby signing off~