(no subject)
Warning: seeing as I'm really down I'm going to utilise the healing powers of LJ (well, it seems to cheer me up anyway) and probably post more frequently. I shall use lj-cuts and possibly keep adding to certain posts. I'll also appreciate IM conversations: thanks Flippa and Jess for the last couple of days.
London Underground, being both the oldest underground/subway system and the oldest one, has quite a few closed stations. Some of these are still intact and put to commercial uses. Here is the (closed tube station of the day: Aldwych.) I first noticed this station when going past it on the bus.
I have found two people to do public transport geeking with. You have no idea how excited that makes me. Yes, I could limit my public transport (non-sexual) fetish to chatting with these people, but there is the possibility that others may find it a bit of a laugh/interesting too.
Cross-posted to fat_rants:
I made it to Pilates today, and I'm really pleased about that. I'm having a rest at home before I go to the talk on wage slavery. After Pilates, I strolled down to Picadilly with the intention of getting some swimming shorts from Lillywhites, a big sports shop. There are relatively large sizes available, but they're just not big enough for me. The largest size was XXL. That can fit me if it's a stretchy material, but none of the shorts I could find were stretchy. I took a couple of pairs to the changing room just in case, but I couldn't pull them over my thighs. I have to accept that I am a size XXXXL in clothing that is non-stretchy. When I was buying a cagoule a couple of months ago I bought a size XXXL. It just about fits me, but if I want to sit down with it on I have to pull it a couple of inches over my stomach.
People who are bigger than average or smaller than average get catered for by the mainstream clothing industry because there are enough of them to make it profitable to serve their needs. People who are tinier or huger than average just don't. I have several choices:
All of these choices make me feel alienated and a freak. When I was in the changing room of the sports shop I had to keep repeating to myself in my head: I am in a sports shop because I want to get healthy. Otherwise, general thoughts of 'I'm fat and crap' would seep in and I might have overeaten. Instead, I punched a lamp post (pain calms me down), had a sensible lunch, and made my way home. I'm very glad I didn't punch a tourist on the way home; Picadilly is such a touristy area. Luckily there weren't too many tourists because of the time of year.
I am:William Gibson
The chief instigator of the "cyberpunk" wave of the 1980s, his razzle-dazzle futuristic intrigues were, for a while, the most imitated work in science fiction.
Which science fiction writer are you?
London Underground, being both the oldest underground/subway system and the oldest one, has quite a few closed stations. Some of these are still intact and put to commercial uses. Here is the (closed tube station of the day: Aldwych.) I first noticed this station when going past it on the bus.
I have found two people to do public transport geeking with. You have no idea how excited that makes me. Yes, I could limit my public transport (non-sexual) fetish to chatting with these people, but there is the possibility that others may find it a bit of a laugh/interesting too.
Cross-posted to fat_rants:
I made it to Pilates today, and I'm really pleased about that. I'm having a rest at home before I go to the talk on wage slavery. After Pilates, I strolled down to Picadilly with the intention of getting some swimming shorts from Lillywhites, a big sports shop. There are relatively large sizes available, but they're just not big enough for me. The largest size was XXL. That can fit me if it's a stretchy material, but none of the shorts I could find were stretchy. I took a couple of pairs to the changing room just in case, but I couldn't pull them over my thighs. I have to accept that I am a size XXXXL in clothing that is non-stretchy. When I was buying a cagoule a couple of months ago I bought a size XXXL. It just about fits me, but if I want to sit down with it on I have to pull it a couple of inches over my stomach.
People who are bigger than average or smaller than average get catered for by the mainstream clothing industry because there are enough of them to make it profitable to serve their needs. People who are tinier or huger than average just don't. I have several choices:
- Buy women's clothing that doesn't look too girly from Evans that fat women's clothing shop - price: moderate
- Buy men's clothing for tall and fat men from High and Mighty - price: high, legs/arms: far too long for me. I need a shop called Short and Fat!!!
- Buy stuff from the internet from specialist clothing sites
- Make my own clothing once I have learnt to sew (I have just started)
All of these choices make me feel alienated and a freak. When I was in the changing room of the sports shop I had to keep repeating to myself in my head: I am in a sports shop because I want to get healthy. Otherwise, general thoughts of 'I'm fat and crap' would seep in and I might have overeaten. Instead, I punched a lamp post (pain calms me down), had a sensible lunch, and made my way home. I'm very glad I didn't punch a tourist on the way home; Picadilly is such a touristy area. Luckily there weren't too many tourists because of the time of year.
I am:William Gibson
The chief instigator of the "cyberpunk" wave of the 1980s, his razzle-dazzle futuristic intrigues were, for a while, the most imitated work in science fiction.
Which science fiction writer are you?