The other day I read an article on Yahoo's blog about a Ralph Lauren model and was absolutely disgusted at the ad (and not just because I thought the clothes were bad). Read it if you haven't already. (Uncanny Valley, anyone?)

A couple of nights ago after I finished reading in the tub, I felt weird. Not because I like to almost boil myself in the water, but because I saw myself in the mirror. Now I know you're saying to yourself, "Self, why would that make Chantile feel weird?" and most days I would agree with you. But I've gained around twenty pounds since I met Mr. Hercules last year, and lately it's like seeing myself for the first time. The weight gain isn't something I'm complaining about--it's honestly about the grandest thing that could happen to my body, if you've known me very long--in fact, it's a little exciting. Mr. Hercules described how I looked when he met me as "Zombie-scary-skinny."

And now he pokes my stomach and pinches my fluff, and smiles. "I love you with weight on you. You're curvy, and you look healthy now," he said. (Which is true--I am actually MUCH more healthy now, and I always dreamt that in an alternate universe, I am a lovely voluptuous Latin woman who doesn't fall down in high heels).

We've been looking at pictures of ourselves (remember the long babbling post about cleaning up the computer?), and it's been interesting to see the transformation of me gaining weight. (I actually took pictures of myself to help me keep track of my weight--mile-markers of sorts. I thought about posting some of them, but they're gross.) I feel so much more like me now (even though I still sort of have hips of death), and it's a great feeling! I want to go to my doctor who told me last year to quit trying so hard to gain weight, because this is who I am and how I would probably always be, and show him how happy I am now, how much better I feel, how much better I sleep, how much better I look! Take that, high school guidance counselor, and everyone in my old singles wards who thought I had an eating disorder!


I had a friend call me the other day almost in tears because of a comment someone made about her weight. She's a lot like me: tall, skinny, and eats like a linebacker. Somehow, she's managed to avoid comments about her weight from everyone but her family. Until the other day. Why, oh why, do we women feel the need to be hurtful? We are born with such a capacity to love and make things beautiful; can't we extend that to each other? The only thing I could give my friend was a quote I read a long time ago: "Where is it written that the skin on thin women is thicker?"

H's.O.D. notwithstanding, I'll take being me, thank you very much. I feel so sad and disappointed in anyone who feels the need to portray a woman's body in a disfigured way to sell something. Eat, woman! I'll buy you (and the retarded Photoshop guy) a taco cart!


It's not flattering--it's honestly disgusting. I don't know why anyone thought that it would be a good idea to change the model's body this way... I hereby declare that I will never shop Ralph Lauren ever again. Thanks, RL.

So instead of feeling the need to edit and change and falsify ourselves, I thought it would be nice to announce what we love about ourselves--our quirks, our freckles, our boney elbows, our double chins: it's all beautiful because it's us.

 1  Few people can trip as gracefully in 3 inch heels as I can
 2  I am very empathic
 3  I have a freakishly accurate memory for numbers
 4  Watch out for my fast right hook! ;)
 5  Hips of death!
 6  I look great in green (no, that was not a clever way of saying that I have a low carbon footprint)
 7  I have a wide, toothy grin
 8  I can beat anyone at Oblivion!!! (yes, that was an official challenge)
 9  I have an insatiable hunger for books
10 Have you tried my brownies? C'mon.


What do you love about yourself? :)

This week I've been cleaning up my computer and sorting through things, which honestly means I've been saying to myself, "Oh, I forgot I had that!"

Mr. Hercules and I are 2 different energy types. I am a Type 2* and he's a Type 1**, but acts like 3***a lot.  We talk about this often, and have found it useful to be able understand why we are the way we are. On Friday night Ty was asking me if I knew where my sewing tape measure was. Of course, you'd think it would be in my sewing box, so I went to look there. Nope. So, next logical place would be my dresser drawer (don't ask why, it makes sense to me). Not there either. Mr. Hercules stood there somewhat bemused, and said, "Well, where do you think you would have put it?" Next was a drawer on my computer desk (Type 2's like our piles and places. Our organization may not make sense to anyone else, but it does to us!). Not there, either. Ty finally found it (can't really remember where, now...) and asked me why I don't put things back in the same place every time. I told him because 1-it is boring that way, and 2-I like to have mini-adventures in my life, and I think that when I put something down, if I can't find again, I'll find it when I need it most, and if I don't and stumble over it again somewhere down the road, it's exciting because it's something you had forgotten you even had. (This happens to me with clothes and shoes a lot. It's like shopping for free!)



Which is probably why he keeps asking me where I put things after I fold his laundry. It's all generally in the same place... but it's not nearly as exciting his way.


But back to the original purpose of this post--it all makes sense to me, can't you keep up?--cleaning up the computer. In the midst of all of that cleaning and "finding," I've been looking at our wedding pictures a lot. This week I've also been trying to refocus my gratitude, for many things in my life, but especially for Tyson. 


We've been married for almost 6 months now (seems like SO much longer!). He mentioned the other night while I was cooking dinner, that everyone says that the first year is the hardest. I felt a little glum after he said that, until he finished with--"but this has been the easiest, best time I've ever had." :)




***Fire--textured, angular, substantial, dynamic--these are the "get it done" people

The last couple of weeks have been so hectic. This last weekend was the first one I didn't spend out of town in the last month, and since Mr. Hercules and I spent Wednesday to Friday home sick, it was nice to have a break and not go anywhere.

Saturday was lovely. We "slept in" to about 8:45 after being awake until 3 a.m. early Saturday morning (an event deserving it's own post, I assure you--let's just say a certain blogger was irritated at her loud neighbors @ 1:14 in the morning, and finally called police. Who didn't leave the neighbor's apartment until 3 a.m. Yep. It was a great night!). My brother came and shared breakfast with us, and while I stood over the stove making eggs, cinnamon french toast, and bacon, rain began to pour beautifully outside--in the same instant that "Keep Us" (if you've read long, you know how much that song means to me) by Peter Bradley Adams came on.

It was the perfect morning.

A line from "Vapour Trail" by Trespassors William (originally performed by Ride) stayed in my head all day: