FAT TALK RANT

Eh, my sleeping schedule is all screwed up again. It's not my fault my body needs seventeen hours to function.
I watched the movie The Craft, which wasn't as bad as I expected. I don't know why I thought it would be bad- I always just assume that "Wicca movies" are always Hollywood-ized, and glamor-filled. Funny thing, too, right after I watched it this girl named Taylor asked me if we could get together someone and discuss Wicca, because she's interested. Seriously, I'm not even Wiccan but everyone thinks I'm a creepy voodoo witch. I remember when I pretended to cast a spell on Kenzie and she started crying. It was awesome.
My tomato garden is officially out of control. All of the tomatoe plants have grown over the strawberries, and bugs are running rampant. Maybe I should do something about it. Or not.
Chris moved into the outside shed and stole three fans. What a moron. He seriously needs to give them back, because Mom and Dad are getting pissed. Along with me. I gave him my turbo fan, which is easily enough to cool that whole room, but no, he steals the other three. And apparently he'd been using Wil's razors and Jenn's body wash. And tried to cover it up. What an ass. He used to use my Garnier and my Cotton Candy Body Bubbles- girl products- and take my pink-ass razors too. I hide that stuff now. He needs to learn hands-off. And of course he did it- Chris, Jenn, and Wil are the only ones who use that shower, and obviously Jenn and Wil aren't nabbing their own stuff. Jesus Christ, Chris. He even still steals my socks. I can't wait until he moves out.
Don't get me wrong, Bloggie. He's my brother, and I love him bunches. But we've always been at odds, because we used to fight so much when we were little. What I don't understand, though, is that for the past year I've tried to stay out of his way. I don't use his stuff, or blame anything on him, or even talk about him. So why does he consistently use my socks and shampoo, eat my food, and complains about me constantly. Seriously! Yesterday, Dad told him to mow the lawn, and he said, "Oh my God! Seriously? Why doesn't Katie or Jenn ever do anything?" This was, of course, after I cleaned the bathroom and Jenn vacuumed. And this was also the morning after I gave him my fan. What a cunt.
I've decided to put my foot down on my family's health issues. I mean, I've been trying to start conversations with Dad about our health concerns, but he blows me off. When I buys ice cream at the store, I try to get rid of it. He lacks some motivation.
Bloggie, I swear: Nothing tastes as good as healthy feels.
Jenn is struggling with weight problems, apparently. I thought she was fine- but she informed me she's not, even though she looks okay. I always wondered why they say most of America is obese, because I didn't see that many big people. Well, I guess that being Jenn's size, which looks fine to me, is overweight.
And another thing I'm going to rant about. Overweight. America is so obsessed with being skinny. I mean, is it seriously the end of the world to be fat? There are sick, malicious, perverted, self-centered, snobby, spoiled, heartless people in the world, but, hey, at least they're skinny. I want to lose a bit of weight; it's not because I want to look better. It's because I don't feel well and I'm always tired, a sign that I'm a little chubby and need to stop eating junk. But I don't think I'm fat. I'm comfortable with my body, and I want to be healthy to maintain it. But health and skinny are two different things. Did you know that 54% of women would rather be hit by a truck than to be fat? 81% of ten year olds are afraid of being fat. 67% of women ages 15-64 don't go to the doctor because they're embarassed about their appearance. If mannequins were real women, they'd be too thin for childbirth. To be a Barbie, you'd need two ribs removed and would have to be seven feet tall for the proportions. Jesus tapdancing Christ.