Freshman 15? More like 50 I hear…

One of the funny things I heard about Freshman year is the Freshman 15.

Your average goes down 15%.

You gain 15 pounds.

A not-quite equal trade-off I think.

But it seems that people focus more on the 15 pounds than the marks. My sister bought me some stuff from the Lindt store , one of those large freezer Ziploc baggies with a bunch of the wonderful stuff. She warned me as she handed over the clear bag of wonder, that Freshman 15 is more like Freshman 50, and I should be careful.

I am generally careful, and most of the bag is still sitting beside me.

Waiting.

Tempting.

In general, I worry about my health, but it’s mainly the idea of whether or not I’m getting enough iron, enough of whatever vitamins I need, and in general if I’m healthy. I have a high metabolism, and playing hockey ups that as well. I eat a lot of meat (Im the carnivore of the family), and I worry about if I’m eating enough greens, if I perhaps should have had another apple, and If I should perhaps take one of those Vitamin C pills–just in case.

I don’t actually worry much about my weight. I once tried keeping track of my weight, but it depends on what I do over the summer that shows what me normal weight is. Hockey season it’s pretty constant (NO, I’m not going to say what it is), and it’s only been the past two summers while I’ve been working that my weight stays about the same. Muscle adds weight. I like muscle, even if it makes the sleeves on some of my shirts tight as they were after this past summers experience.

But it seems as though the rest of the female population in my year focus a lot more on the number than what the weight is from. It’s just AMAZING how much people focus on their weight. Yes you should be a healthy weight for your size, but everywhere I look as I head to my classes I’m seeing the uuber skinny legs and the jutting collar bones of people who just Don’t Eat.

I kind of wish that the mentality was a bit more like in the olden days, where if a woman had wide hips and some meat on her she was a much more desirable wife/person/whatever than the petit, breakable looking girls.

I would much rather hear about how worried one of my friends is about keeping her scholarship up (NOOOO! DO NOT LOSE 15%!!!), even as tedious as that can be, rather than hear about how they wanted to get themselves a yogourt but had to get a salad instead–have to watch their weight after all.

EAT! I don’t want you looking over my MEAL with envy as you pick at your rabbit-food! You got a freaking meal plan because it’s required of first years, USE IT! It’s TAX FREE for students!

WHAT can I say to make you realize that weight is good for you?

It’s okay to be ‘FAT’. Overweight is bad, but you won’t get overweight by eating a HEALTHY amount of food!

Losing weight makes your boobs smaller.

Gymnasts sometimes have trouble getting pregnant because they’re too skinny and their body wouldn’t be able to support the baby.

Sometimes during a hockey season I would get too skinny, and (guys skip ahead) I would skip my period for a while. Yay for losing it, but as soon as I got it again I GOT HORRIBLE CRAMPS! A blender in my stomach was set to PUREE and then bleach was poured over it!

The Boney look will NEVER be in style.

If I can count your ribs without you sucking in a breath, you look like a skeleton, not a model. (Yes, that was a bit harsh)

Modelling in Europe changed so that if you were below what was a healthy body weight for your height, you were fired from the agency. Many agencies lost more than half of their models.

All I’m trying to say is that not being a stick is more than okay.

Also, there’s only so many times that you can reassure someone that they’re not fat before you turn around ad call them pudgy to spite.

Don’t be that person.

A HEALTHY weight is a SEXY weight.

Gone, Gone, Going…? Now? No. … Now?

I am currently waiting for laundry to be done, and feeling alternating feelings (no duh) of chest constricting stress and  fluttery anxiety, and chest constricting anticipation and fluttery excitement.

I leave for Grundy Park tomorrow, probably at the crack of dawn should I ask Dad now, and I am starting and finishing my packing today.

Yes I’m late, but I’m a procrastinator almost by nature. I’m procrastinating waiting for laundry to be done, because a while ago, I had my laundry waiting for me to bring it upstairs, and it was sitting in front of our freezer, which was left open, and it leaked.

I moved my stuff after it got wet, and left it down there to be done again when the washer was next free.

Mold grew.

I washed it twice.

I am washing it again, to get the sour-ish smell from it before I go.

I am not packing my stuff into a suitcase, because my Mom says that it’d be easier to pack in the car if it were in these huge, 3fx1fx2f ish plastic bins, so I have a plastic bin in my room, in the hall outside of my room, one downstairs by my nearly-done laundry, and one in the front room of my house.

Scratch that, I have TWO (Three) in the front room, because I need one separate for sleeping things such as sheets and pj’s.

It feels very much so as if I should be going right now, but then the chest crushing gets tighter with the feeling of Holy-I’m-Not-DONE-PACKING! untill I reassure myself and my insane part that no, we aren’t leaving right yet.

And then the sane part of me thinks of something.

What if I forget something!!!

Insane hears this as well, and slaps Sane on the head.

It’s because we’re not done PACKING! Get to work we’ve got like an hour to get everything together and in the car!

 Sane runs into a wall.

DOOM!

No, we aren’t leaving untill tomorrow, I reassure myself. And Laundry cannot be rushed.

And so I stand in front of the Door of Panic with my trusty Gandalf Wizard Staff solidly blocking the way.

From myself.

*sigh* Am I sure that there is actually an insane side, and it’s not just me?

Yes. I just happen to be strongly influenced by myInsane side when writing. Every writer has this part of them, it just so happens that mine feels the need to talk to me occassionally.

Insane people are in Sane people, and neither part are going past me to the Panic Room, because a)nothing gets done there, and b) NONE SHALL PASS!

All LOTR Gandalf the Grey jokes and references aside, I shall finish the Laundry of Impending Doom, cut it down to be hidden away in the Boxes of Plastic Containment, sealed away untill they are needed to fight the foe called Nakedness.

Shoot I gotta find myself some nail clippers, and perhaps a few more pairs of wool work socks.

Did you know that Costco has awesome underwear on sale? You wouldn’t think so, but they are comfortable.

A while ago, how many days ago matters not, Mum brought me to Costco to stock up on food items that will help in my quest of survival for the coming 2 months.

Working at a park is different from working as a Ranger in many ways, and one of which is that we don’t have chefs to cook and buy our food.

 For the last couple of weeks Dad has been storing away chili and stew and hamburger patties in the freezer, either in sealed plastic bags or in Tupperware , so that for at least the first two weeks of no-trips-into-town-to-buy-food I might be able to survive. I am extremely thankful that we get a lot of freezer space at Grundy (everyone, not just me, though I’d like to believe I AM that special).

I will also be leaving with print out and digital recipes of such things as stew, easy stroganoff (which is not a loose, sexually active Swedish general), salsa-couscous chicken, and many-layered salads.

We bought juice, meat, some veggies, cookies (the important things), underwear (they’re nice 😀 Sane: Don’t SAY that! Insane: BWAHAHA!) , and a whole slew of bread for me to make my main source of sustenance for during the day: Sandwiches.

To the sound of Pocahontas’ “Savages”:

Sandwiches! Sandwiches! Hardly ever Eaten! Sandwiches! Sandwiches! Where is my Mayonnaise?!

Credited to my friends (from rangers) sister. Google Map Delta. It’s a place. They live there.      😀

WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!

No.

Food is packed away, and I think that I’ll go through the plastic bins tha I have already and sort out the mixes of shirts, sweaters, pants, and shorts from in them.

I will probably have way more than I need, but…

Rather have more than I need than not enough.

Right.

 BUT WHAT IF SOMETHING IS FORGOTTEN???!!!

No. Grundy is 4 hours or so away, and the Parents will be visiting fairly regularly! Back!!! Back from the gates of Panic!

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

 So tomorrow I’m gone, or going, or whatever, and I’ll probably be freaking out.

By the end of the first week I’ll likely be fine, but then I’ll start being paranoid about what, exactly I’ll have forgotten.

Because I will have forgotten SOMETHING.

But that is edging around my Gandalf staff, (BWAHA!), so we shall move on.

I was procrastinating a bit earlier, reading one of the books I liberated from my Mom’s school (they have a better library, and because she’s a teacher there, she can take them out over the summer), called “The Book of Lost Things” by John Connolly. The link will bring you to his site on it.

It’s good.

Like, Really good.

Most times I can predict what will happen at the end of the book by the time I get through the first 3-5 chapters, and I had a bit of a feeling about what would happen, but so many things happened that promised a slightly different outcome, I couldn’t put it down.

Of course, since Lexy probably won’t be reading this untill I’m long gone, I can freely admit that instead of folding laundry a bit earlier, i was reading this. I put it away any time someone came down to the basement, and started fiddling with laundry.

I still got a lot done, even while reading it.

…Weird.

The dryer just made it’s “I’m-done” jingle noise (sounds a bit like a small part of an ice-cream truck’s jingle), and this is getting kind of long, so I’ll bid you all goodbye for now. Whether I post small segments about my work for the next 2 months depends on if the claim to internet access is true or not.

Ciao!

~Doodled93~

Insane: THERE’S NO MORE TIME!

P.S. Afterthought: It is now about 10:28 pm, and I pretty much have everything packed, but I look at my 2 bins of clothing, my 1/4 bin of work clothes, and my slightly bursting bin of sleeping stuff (it has a sleeping bag and pillow in it), and I feel I am missing a lot. Clothing-wise. I know I am not anywhere done my toiletries packing, as i currently have only JUST put the all-important nail clippers in my tinier toiletries bin, and I have no swim towel, no shower towel, and all of my electronics (including an EXTREMELY IMPORTANT digital alarm clock) are scattered around my house. Mostly uncharged too. Anyone else finish packing and look at your stuff and thing “nope. Not done.”? Also, pj’s is underlined in red, as well as bin. That is rediculous!