Any day in which pizza is part of it makes Chelsea dance.
What was once pizza, and is now a mere shadow of its former self.
Dance, Chelsea, dance!
Some friends came over today. Originally we were gonna go job hunting, but after eating pizza we all felt kinda sleepy so we stayed inside. We’re going job hunting tomorrow (there’s a job fair thing later in the day so it’s better tomorrow anyway, also one of my friends hadn’t slept at all the previous night and was thus a bit loopy).
I feel I should say a bit more about myself than I did in the first post. Yeah, talked about the motivations behind this blog, but what do you know about me, aside from my appearance?
Well, for one thing, I am tall. I am 6 feet tall. I’m not from a parallel universe where 6 feet actually means 5’7”, I’m the same 6 feet tall as that one guy you know who’s 6 feet tall. And I probably weigh more than him. In fact, I spent much of college having to fend off the recruiting advances of the women’s rugby team, because I am solidly built, but I assure you most of it is fat, not muscle. Also I really suck at sports and hate getting dirty.
If you’re wondering, part of the reason why my apartment looks more like a homeless person is squatting there than a 20-something is living there is because I don’t have very much furniture. This is not because I don’t like furniture. I do, indeed, enjoy furniture. It’s because the first apartment I had after moving to Cincinnati was infested from top to bottom with bed bugs. Most of my furniture has gone to the Great Dumpster in the Sky, and what was too valuable to throw out is hibernating in storage until the bugs die of starvation (which according to most sources is about 18 months, but I’m gonna wait about two years and get them sprayed with chemicals after to be sure). I used to have two bookcases, both filled to bursting with books. I used to have a computer desk and a printer and an actual bedframe. Now my mattress lies on the floor (new mattress, obviously), my few pieces of furniture are the only things left my mother could spare, beg or buy (she’d already donated all her ratty furniture to me prior to the bed bugs), my TV (a second-hand TV from a nice family friend) sits on the floor, and the only tables I have are an empty litter container and an overturned plastic box I used to move with (couldn’t use cardboard, the bugs can hide in that).
If you’re one of those lucky, lucky people who didn’t even know bed bugs were a real bug (they are, and basically impossible to get rid of), please feel free to visit bedbugger.com. I still have nightmares about them. I had panic attacks a lot when I was still living in that apartment. I flinch when I see a dark piece of fluff out of the corner of my eye because I interpret it as something crawling. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a spider crawled over the arm of my used armchair (this building is charmingly old, which means many spiders, but I’d rather spiders any day than bed bugs).
I just wanted to clarify that because it’s likely you’ll see a lot of glimpses of my apartment, and it may seem confusing why there’s a rocking chair in the far corner and a TV on the floor and piles of dirty dishes (okay that’s just laziness, because I don’t have a dishwasher). I am also a messy person, but it would be slightly easier to keep things clean if I had more surfaces/more places to put stuff/fucking shelves, man.
I get distracted and go on tangents a lot too. Where was I? Ah, yes. I’m tall. I’m also fat. I’ve been fat for as long as I can remember. I grew up fat and I will remain fat. I have fat genes on both sides of my family (as well as tall genes). And that’s fine with me. It wasn’t always, but these days I’m happier accepting myself as I am. ❤ I don’t keep outfits in my closet in the vain hope that one day they’ll actually fit. I also don’t feel guilty if I feel like eating a doughnut, or ice cream, or cookies, or pizza. I’m healthy and happy and fat. It’s pretty nice, really.
I’m single. This is mostly by choice. Sure, I wouldn’t mind meeting my one twue wuv, but I’m not putting my life on hold for him/her. Did I mention I’m bisexual? Anyway, I don’t mind being single. I’m not going to bemoan my loneliness here, so don’t expect that. I’m a firm believer that if a person can’t stand themselves when they’re single, they probably can’t stand themselves in a relationship either, so what’s the point?
I also have a cat. I like cats and dogs equally, and for different reasons. I’m pretty much happy to love on any animal that isn’t inclined to bite/sting/spray me. I’d love to own some snakes and a tarantula at some point, but right now I’m sticking to an animal that’s fairly low maintenance. And can purr. I’ll probably end up being one of those people with a rabbit, three cats, four dogs, two rats, a small bird, three or four snakes and a guinea pig. But only if I have at least one other person around to help me take care of them, even if it’s just a roommate. XD
Speaking of my cat, it’s about time for his dinner. We’ll play more of the “getting to know Chelsea” game tomorrow. In the meantime, if you’re hungering for something to read, check out Hyperbole and a Half or Fatshionista. Or, if you like podcasts, check out “Two Whole Cakes Fatcast” on iTunes. It’s awesome.
MirrorMe 