Anyhow, it's fixed. As should be obvious from Stick Figure Sam's hair.
And don't worry about my boobs. They're fine, as always. And yes, I do mean fine as in "damn girl yo tits are fiiiiiine!" as well as in "no worries, they're there."
I also have wheels now, so I'm no longer a disgusting blue-haired couch potato. I am mobile and active and a proper member of the community. Job interviews and groceries and decent clothing and everything!
Plus did anyone else know that the little chunk of fat right at the top of the thigh, that tiny bump that shows up right under your ass and makes you sad because it keeps you from looking like an underwear model with smooth skin and space between her thighs...it's sexy? Like not even just acceptable. Desirable. Positive. Sought-after.
Because I didn't. I just learned this. My body image went through an incredibly massive shift toward positive, too. I've begun sharing it with everyone I can think of in hopes it will make some other woman feel less like a walking pile of lumps and more like Scarlett Johansson.
Mmmmm, feeling Scarlett Johannson. What? Feeling like her? Isn't that what I said?
Anyway. Sam out. More later.
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