skinny.

I hate the need to be skinny.
I hate how people believe that in order to be pretty, you have to be morbidly underweight.
I hate it.

A few hundred years ago, being overweight was considered attractive. 
It was a sign that you had enough money to feed yourself.
Which isn't a problem now, so now the image of "pretty" is a skinny girl with thin legs and arms. 

Being too skinny makes people look scrawny, weak and unhealthy.
The reason why anyone would willingly choose to look like that, I have no idea.

The main thing I don't get is someone losing drastic amounts of weight to impress someone.
As in starving themselves to get a boy to look at her.
Why would anyone do that?
If you can't love yourself, how can you expect somebody else to?

I know that in your eyes, I'm probably just another teenager prattling on and on about my various beliefs and convictions.
But this is a topic something I will never change my mind on.

I understand that anorexia and other eating disorders are serious topics.
But I think that if you have the confidence in yourself, you can prevent these things from happening. You need to have the mental strength to ignore other people telling you what to do and what you should look like.

But weight loss can be healthy.
My dad is about sixty pounds overweight, and our family is worried about his health.
So we're trying to get him to eat healthier and we signed him up for a gym membership. This way, he can lose those pounds without starving himself.

My main point is that you shouldn't obsessively worry about your body image. Don't ever harm yourself in order to be what you think is perfect.
Because it's not worth it.

I'm 5'5, and I weigh 127 pounds.
I'm not underweight, nor am I overweight.
I'm happy about who I am, and I don't obsess over every bit of food I put in my mouth.
I no longer care how big my butt looks or how fat my thighs are.
I'm able to indulge on a bag of chips or an ice cream sundae without beating myself over it.
Because if someone chooses not to talk to me because of my size, then that person wouldn't be worth my time anyway.
And that person wouldn't be worth yours either.

breakfast foods.

I seriously don't understand why it's socially unacceptable to eat ice cream for breakfast, but it's fine for people to have waffles doused in syrup and powdered sugar.
Breakfast is a meal in which you consume so you are not hungry until lunch.
Why does it matter if I want to have cold pizza?
And if I want to have a turkey sandwich with tomatoes and lettuce, I should be able to.

It's not gross.
I'm just filling my belly.
Why does it bother you if I choose to eat something a few hours before the time that you deem acceptable?
I'm just being flexible.

If there are leftovers that need to be eaten, I will will eat them before they spoil.
Therefore I am reducing waste.
Therefore, eating any food for breakfast is practical.
And therefore it is superior than eating solely "breakfast foods".

So there. I win.

thank you.

 Just a small section for people I'd like to thank in my life. Because it's okay to get cheesy at times like these. (:

So, thank you....

... Dad for always being there for me.

... Mom for forcing down my burnt baked goods and being able to smile and tell me that they're delicious. 

... stray cat for making my life a little more exciting by creeping by my front door.

... Kat for making me laugh in homeroom.

... Snooze Button for making me late to school every day.

... Henry for giving me motivation to study harder so I can get a better grade than you.

... socks for keeping my feet warm.

... Jan for preventing me from dying of boredom in Orchestra.

... Chris for making me laugh at swim practice, even though the coach is trying to make us die from exhaustion.


... Emily for being my first friend.

I don't know what I would do without you all. <3 Fi

life is a slight let down.

It took me a lot of deep pre-sleep thinking to get me to realize that,

My life isn't as interesting as I had anticipated.

I know I sound extremely pessimistic,  but I can't really deny it anymore. Like many kids, I grew up watching Saturday morning cartoons consisting of super-humans and their super-awesome-sidekicks. Batman went off to fight crime everyday and had this awesome outfit. (On a side note, I was Batman when I was nine for Halloween. Yes, I idolized him that much.) In Buzz Lightyear, Buzz ends up saving the freaking world every freaking episode. Even Teletubbies had cool stuff. 

So my reasoning was that when I got as old as people in my cartoons (like, nine years of age) I would have an amazing life filled with adventures with my talking animal friends and saving the world every few minutes. 

And I dreamed that I would be a hero. I dreamed that little seven year old girls would have my picture on their bedside tables, and say to themselves, "I want to be just like her when I grow up." I dreamed that there would be a day that school would let kids stay at home to honor Fiona Day. (If Columbus could have his own day, why can't I?)

You can imagine my delight on my ninth birthday. 

Nine was my landmark year. It was a year that represented a new life, a new ME. 

And I was let down. Animals did not start talking to me. I did not have a Batmobile, nor did I have a big red dog like Clifford.

This made me think.

Maybe nine is a bit too young.

Feeling better, I decided to wait until I was ten.

And eleven.

And twelve.

And then I gave up. 

And I realized the horrible truth that my life would be boringly real for the rest of my life.

I would still have to do my homework every day.

Animals will never talk to me.

And I will never get my own day devoted to me.

So sad, so sad. <3 Fi