fatorexic* (fat-uh-rek-sik)
adjective
a person suffering from a psychological disorder characterized by distorted self-image, in which the person believes she/he is thinner than she/he actually is.

We've all seen them: the women (and sometimes men) who dress completely inappropriately for their body type. You know, like the rather large woman who walks down your block in a cut-off T-shirt and short-shorts, or the portly man walking on the beach wearing a Speedo.

I don't know about you, but when I see someone in an outfit that's just completely, well, wrong, I ask myself, "What on Earth are they thinking?"

Is it that they just don't care what they look like -- good taste be damned, they're going to wear that short slip dress because it's just so cute? Or is it they think they're thinner than they really are?

Every once in a while, I'll look in the mirror and think, "I look good in this outfit." Then someone (usually a family member, of course) will tell me the outfit makes me look fat, or that the skirt is too short and makes my legs look too "meaty." Yet I think I look good in it.

I wonder if fatorexics go through the same thing. Do they look in the mirror and think, "Damn, this bra-less halter top really makes my size 44DD breasts look fabulous"? Or have they just resigned themselves to the fact that that's what they look like and that's what they're gonna wear, and if someone doesn't like it, too bad?

*Yes, I just made this up.

From the BBC:

U.S. Man Survives Chocolate Ordeal
A 21-year-old U.S. man ended up in the hospital after spending two hours trapped in a vat of chocolate, police in Wisconsin said on Friday. The man said he had climbed into the tank before becoming trapped waist-deep in chocolate, police chief Randy Berner told AP news agency. However, other reports suggest he was stirring the chocolate when he fell in. Rescue workers and staff at the Debelis Corporation used cocoa butter to thin out the chocolate and pull him free. "It was pretty thick. It was virtually like quicksand," Captain Berner said. "It's the first time I've ever heard of anything like this," he added. The worker said his ankles were sore after the incident, and he was taken to a local hospital where he is recovering. The accident involved dark chocolate.

I don't know what's funnier, the fact that they consider being stuck in a vat of chocolate an "ordeal" or that they felt the need to mention that it was dark chocolate.

I have 23 mosquito bites on my feet. That’s right, 23. Not on my body, just on my feet -- ankle down. I have no idea how I got them, but they itch like hell. I look diseased. I look gross. I look like my feet have the chicken pocks. I'd take a picture, but you might be eating and I don't wanna get sued for ruining your new outfit.

Worst part is, I can't get a pedicure until they go away. The horror!

So I looked my dream up online, and this is what it said:

"All sources pretty well agree that excrement (whether human or animal) in a dream represents money, wealth, profits or tangible value and is a lucky omen pertaining to material gain."

Considering it was a pork loin, I'm gonna be rollin' in it! And by "it," I mean money, not the pork loin.

I know this falls under the realm of TMI (waaaay TMI, I'm sure), but I had to share.

I had a dream last night that my poop was a pork loin. Yes, a pork loin. There was not much more to the dream. I basically just recall that it was a pork loin, and that I was in awe of the size and that it didn't hurt.

See, I told you it was TMI.

Happy birthday to me
Happy birthday to me
Happy birthday to mee-ee
Happy birthday to me

As promised, pics from Spain: click here.

It's heaven on earth. But I do have one gripe: The "tradition" of telling me how fat I am continues! Me, carrying pastries onto the bus home: "Hi. How are you?" Random Spanish person: "Don't eat those! You don't need them." Loverly.

Or how about "Have you gained weight?" "A couple of pounds." "Really, that's it?"

Or, two old ladies commenting on my weight: "She's not fat, she just has big hips." "And at least she's proportionate. She's got meat everywhere." Ok, she was trying to be nice, so I'll cut her some slack.

Honestly, I've been called fat so many times I've lost count. Last year, when I was really thin, they still called me fat, so I can't win. Sigh. I'm going to go eat some ice cream.