I absolutely adore this song. We play it in Zumba while doing indescribable things that are very good for your abdominals and lower back. I just so love the idea of a woman being celebrated for taking up space.
It's FRIDAY. I get to sit by the fire near my sweetie and work on my book-in-a-month project. We have three extra teens on the premises which means we have achieved critical mass and they will amuse themselves, noisily.
On the subject of chunky, or not so chunky, I have this probably strange mental phenomenon that keeps reappearing. Ever since I was a little girl I imagined another girl just like me, who did things correctly. Who was never late getting ready for school and did all her homework properly. I still feel like that person is with me. She never got fat-- I bet her mother probably didn't die either-- though she is aging along with me, raising children, keeping house. Once in a rare while my life intersects with hers and I have a moment that is exactly right, the way it should be. I might be fixing an after-school snack or washing dishes, but for one instant the idealized me and the actual me are one and the same. And it feels so sweet, I can't describe it. It's funny because I don't expect or necessarily even want to be perfect. I enjoy most of my messy and semi-chaotic life. But it does feel satisfying to live closer to that mysterious "right" version of myself.
Who, by the way, is going to stay out of the cookies her daughter is making until the stroke of midnight-- CHEAT DAY.
New measurements today:
bust-- present and accounted for
waist-- 31 or 30 if you go for the absolute skinniest possible point while exhaling
thigh-- 25.5 ish (woot)
arm-- 11.5 (also woot)
Happy Weekend, my dears.