superficiality

in high school, I seem to remember having an hourglass figure, or at least a pear shape. I remember my waist and breasts, small in comparison to my growing hips and thighs. turns out that might have been puberty fooling me into thinking I had a bigger lower body when in reality my hormones were being very silly while it tried to change my body from childlike to womanly. now that I am full into womanhood, my thighs are still big, but so is everything else. my butt is actually too small and so are my boobs. I found out the other day that, according to the internet and my waist-to-hips ratio, I am an apple shape and that means I'm gonna die. actually, my figure looks strikingly like my dad's.

thus I will be replacing my current strength training regime with a new one that promises to dissolve my food-baby, instead giving me a nice big ass and some better developed chest and back muscles so I can get mah ~*~*~bootylicious~*~*~ on. also I figure I should start running even though I loathe it. looooathe.

also I am finally a blonde. it only took about 47 dye jobs to get it from 'plum black' to 'dark ash blonde'. turns out bettie page bangs don't look all that cute anymore, they really only suit black hair because they look ironic/iconic instead of creepy, as they do with blondeish hair.

oh well, at least I don't look like I gots the consumption anymore. I get soooo pale in the winter. I was going for 'cute and charming pseudo-goth' but instead got 'sad robert smith impression'. now I look like a barbie doll that got run over. weighing the pros and cons.

my hair is so busted, it won't air dry. last time I had busted hair, I somehow convinced myself it looked good for like a year. now I harbour no illusions. but I'm also planning to cut it off again once I lose another ten pounds, so I don't care all that much.

can't wait till I shave it again.