Weight, what a throbbing pimple on my buttock!

I’ve always found that people, in general are utterly fascinated by a persons weight. Sadly I am no different. I often think myself abundant of what you might call distinctiveness. This in turn begets a unique feeling of individuality, but in fact I’m nothing if not a flaming conformist! My style of clothing ultimately comes from observation, people on the streets, fashion magazines, television and wherever else one might find inspiration. The style in which I transfer my ideas onto this blog is inspired, if not a blatant facsimile of the things I have read. This is an utterly terrifying thought, but not the main focus of today’s blog. Although… it could be; oh the possibilities! I’m drunk with power, killing ants with a magnifying glass, scribbling obscenities on the tester Etch-A-Sketch in the toy store, repositioning strangers’ clothes from one locker to another at the gym, muhahahahhaa!

My weight has generously given my family and myself an abundance of grief over the years. From the years of the obligatory weighing at primary school, where I constantly came as a superb winner in the height section and as the underweight mutant, how-does-she-even-walk-around, freak of the weight scale for children of my age. There was always an undertone of judgement in the nurses questions and recommendations for what my parents should do to “help” me. I can humorously (in retrospect) ponder the things that that poor nurse must have thought of my parents; the slightly obese, sadistic cult members giving their child nothing but Jehovah’s flatbread, air and the occasional drop of water to eat.
Luckily there was never the need for a social-worker to pop around our house because this skinny little freak could through a tennis ball further than any of the boys in her class!

I’ve always contently thought that my weight fits my personality, but with a constant sort of subconscious “chicken or the egg” question nagging at me. Whilst my concious mind sings “I’d rather have a bowl of Coco Puffs” (Seriously, its like the screensavers of my brain) my very essence ponders the question: is my destructive nature, nervousness and need be noticed the cause of my eating habits and thus the reason for my weight; or is it not a conscious choice from my side and consequently I developed my personality as a result of my fondness of making people laugh and the universal fact that long skinny limbs can be hilarious in something like a silly walk (incidentally, I do a pretty mean silly walk) and such? I really can’t figure this out!
I do have a very thin older brother to compare myself to, but his silly walk is nought but crap and he couldn’t give two shits about anyone. I hope someday to gain weight so that I can see if my personality changes, maybe I’ll even grow gargantuan bosoms and stop being funny altogether…

I’ve always gone to very average sized schools. Not in size of the schools, but the size of the people attending them; shockingly “normal” if you will. I don’t at all think that this helped someone like me whom, if dressed in green might be misconceived to be an abnormally large stick insect, or just a stick if standing still.
At one point in my educational process there was a rumour at my school that I had had a metal rod planted in my spine to help me stand up straight; and during my year of highschool I was constantly followed around by staff and “hired help” (teachers-pets) whom had the responsibility of checking my eating habits. I felt like a rare bird, or that whale that swam up the Thames that time. I did gain 12kilos that year so I guess they could call themselves a success… no wait, ALL AMERICAN CAFETERIA FOOD IS MADE FROM PURE SATURATED FAT!

My experience as unusually underweight has taught me that it is very annoying to be unusually underweight. No one asks the question on every ones mind: “Do you have an eating disorder?”
Because, as the telly has taught us, the first rule of eating disorders is that people who have them lie about having them. Therefore people of average weight assume. Since they have no way of proving if this assumption is true or false, they just believe their assumption. Your too thin therefore you have an eating disorder, somewhat like I can’t explain this therefore it’s the work of a benevolent spirit in the heavens. Incidentally I find them both preposterous…

Let the fatties eat their half melted snickers bars found between the fatflaps of their stomachs and let the underweighties walk the catwalk, snort cocaine and “eat” black coffee to stay upright! Natural selection…

Sampai Jumpa, blissfully live your lives and be less of a bitch than I am;)

Siren