But it's just a potato!

"It is, until you add the butter and sour cream. That's where they get you..."


May I have a rant?

I am so sick and tired of the sky high beauty standards set for women. Makes me world weary. Of the must look good all the time or you're an anti-establishment hippie or a tomboy or you throw the insult. And the odd thing is, half the time I apply eyeliner, it is to fit in with the girls; not to impress the guys.

Why must we defeat ourselves?

And dieting! I understand the importance of a balanced diet with exercise to match, but advertisements for a photographed food diary? And exercises upon skin tightening creams upon micro mini skirts?

I am guilty. For years now - I am a size seven - I have tracked what I eat. Written down every breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Felt guilt for each spoonful of ice cream, for every second helping.

Is it for the boy coming over tonight?
No. It is for (and I wish I knew the answer).

Today at the library, I sat sneaking peaks at trashy magazines instead of doing homework. The number of emaciated teenagers seducing the page made me want to cry. Because I know that my sister looks at that and sees beauty. Sees a beauty that is not her, will never be her.

Beauty is skinny. And slim legged. With long shiny hair and thigh hugging jeans. Beauty wakes up wearing lip gloss and is satisfied with no bread all day long. Beauty is not me.*


*To be continued: time to get ready.
**In case anyone will be in town April 26th, I am helping to organize Minneapolis's Take Back the Night, which is a march-rally against violence against women.