Back in the Kingdom of Sandwiches
My 11.5-hour flight was blissfully short because I ended up sleeping--albeit restlessly--for about 7 hours. I awoke to the grating sound of a female flight attendant screaming in a rough New England accent, "Omelette or pasta?! Omelette or pasta?!" For a moment, I thought I had died and something in the afterlife had gone very, very wrong. Turned out, instead, to be breakfast.
I walked through the Chicago O'Hare airport, and I was struck by all the sandwich options. I nearly drooled on myself as my mouth remembered the delight of anything other than veggies-mayo-whitebread-nocrusts. (It's the only sandwich the Japanese know how to make. Under extreme duress, they have been known to throw in ham, eggs, cheese, and sometimes tonkatsu). I saw different kinds of bread, and none of them were Bunny. I saw different "toppings". I saw sandwiches WITHOUT MAYO. It was all I could do to keep from "eeping" with joy and scaring the people around me.
Getting off the plane was like having instant weight loss. In Japan, I'm considered to be a large girl. My bones actually have meat on them, and some fat, and that means I'm overweight. I'm not obese in Japan, but I am overweight. In the airport, I felt small and skinny. Suddenly, the five lbs I put on in the past two weeks didn't seem so bad. I stopped feeling self-conscious. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and put on some makeup so I wouldn't be a total goblin when seeing my parents at the end of the next flight, but suddenly I felt weird about wearing it. Nobody else had makeup on. I saw my pretty eyes and my pink cheeks and mostly-clear skin and suddenly I didn't need a layer of eyeliner to look good.
And then I realized just how much I buy into my environment, into other people's standards. I had no emotional or mental response to the fact, but it was an interesting thing to discover. I think the way I feel about myself is mostly dependant on internal factors, but I do compare myself to those around me. I always have. It's like the story of the ugly duckling--had the baby swan been around other baby swans, he probably wouldn't have felt so bad. Around baby ducks, however, he looked large and awkward. Back around my own kind, I seem to be doing pretty well, in comparison. I'm at a healthy weight, I take better care of myself than I ever have before, and I dress well. I look good, shockingly. I'm not perfect, of course, and I'm not completely satisfied with the package, naturally, but that's because I'm still in the process. I did come to understand, however, that I'm further along than I thought I was. And that's a good thing to know.
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On a completely unrelated note, now that I'm back in the land of the fat--I only say that because I like the ring of it (it sounds like a nursery rhyme)--let's all get together!!!
Nimdawg and I want to get people together tomorrow (Thursday) evening/night to do something. Any ideas? Times? Places? Interest? You can call my parents' house, or call Nimish. Either way. If you can't make it, don't worry--although Nimish is leaving us on Saturday morning, I'll be here until the first weekend in September.
(Neeeeeeed to do karaokeeeeeeeeee!!!) I've been singing along to the radio in the car in a poor attempt to feed the addiction. Anybody up for doing karaoke this weekend?
I walked through the Chicago O'Hare airport, and I was struck by all the sandwich options. I nearly drooled on myself as my mouth remembered the delight of anything other than veggies-mayo-whitebread-nocrusts. (It's the only sandwich the Japanese know how to make. Under extreme duress, they have been known to throw in ham, eggs, cheese, and sometimes tonkatsu). I saw different kinds of bread, and none of them were Bunny. I saw different "toppings". I saw sandwiches WITHOUT MAYO. It was all I could do to keep from "eeping" with joy and scaring the people around me.
Getting off the plane was like having instant weight loss. In Japan, I'm considered to be a large girl. My bones actually have meat on them, and some fat, and that means I'm overweight. I'm not obese in Japan, but I am overweight. In the airport, I felt small and skinny. Suddenly, the five lbs I put on in the past two weeks didn't seem so bad. I stopped feeling self-conscious. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and put on some makeup so I wouldn't be a total goblin when seeing my parents at the end of the next flight, but suddenly I felt weird about wearing it. Nobody else had makeup on. I saw my pretty eyes and my pink cheeks and mostly-clear skin and suddenly I didn't need a layer of eyeliner to look good.
And then I realized just how much I buy into my environment, into other people's standards. I had no emotional or mental response to the fact, but it was an interesting thing to discover. I think the way I feel about myself is mostly dependant on internal factors, but I do compare myself to those around me. I always have. It's like the story of the ugly duckling--had the baby swan been around other baby swans, he probably wouldn't have felt so bad. Around baby ducks, however, he looked large and awkward. Back around my own kind, I seem to be doing pretty well, in comparison. I'm at a healthy weight, I take better care of myself than I ever have before, and I dress well. I look good, shockingly. I'm not perfect, of course, and I'm not completely satisfied with the package, naturally, but that's because I'm still in the process. I did come to understand, however, that I'm further along than I thought I was. And that's a good thing to know.
-----
On a completely unrelated note, now that I'm back in the land of the fat--I only say that because I like the ring of it (it sounds like a nursery rhyme)--let's all get together!!!
Nimdawg and I want to get people together tomorrow (Thursday) evening/night to do something. Any ideas? Times? Places? Interest? You can call my parents' house, or call Nimish. Either way. If you can't make it, don't worry--although Nimish is leaving us on Saturday morning, I'll be here until the first weekend in September.
(Neeeeeeed to do karaokeeeeeeeeee!!!) I've been singing along to the radio in the car in a poor attempt to feed the addiction. Anybody up for doing karaoke this weekend?