Buckle Your Seatbelts

It's going to be a bumpy ride. Today I get to rant about something for the challenge. My family and friends in real life know that I can really rant about things. In fact, I feel the most self-conscious when I'm ranting because I know I must look and sound like a crazy person. My eyebrows do crazy dances, my eyes bug out, my head starts bobbing side to side and yes, sometimes I throw in some hand gestures. I purse my lips and my voice rises. I can tell that I make people uncomfortable, but, at the same time, I feel like if I can't rant about things with you, then you're not really my friend at all. You don't get to be my friend if all you want is my good side.

So folks, here's my ugly side. I'm going to rant. It won't be pretty, but maybe you'll relate. Maybe you won't. But I won't find out until I try.

Yep, this is a really old pic from when I was heavier, but I pretty much still look like this when I rant. Adrienne took this and posted it on Facebook. She's mean. And I'm the idiot posting it on my blog.

So, what really gets to me? Sports bras, for starters. Seriously, you're going to size those things on the XS-XL scale? You do realize that normal bras come in band/cup sizes because- guess what? Boobs come in very different shapes and sizes. So when you tell me that I should be in a medium sports bra when I normally sport a 32DD, you're trying to tell me that same bra would also support a 36A?! I've never known an A cup to be the same as a DD. DD tends to have a dramatically different shape than an A. That Q really just needs compression for support, where as these droopy DDs need lift and separation in addition to compression. Capisce?

Next up, movie theater temperatures. Ever notice how in the winter they tend to be sweltering, but in the Summer they're as cold as a walk-in freezer? Well I noticed. So, when we're bundled to the brim with sweaters and thick coats and scarves and boots, we're supposed to sit in a pile of our own sweat at the theater. And then, when we're wearing hardly anything at all, we get to see how long it takes before we get frostbite at the theater. No thanks. I really shouldn't have to not only wear a scarf in the Summer, but bring extra socks and a blanket just to be comfortable watching a Summer blockbuster at the multiplex. Save some trees and cut back on the AC, will ya?

Finally, something that could ruffle some feathers. Pretentious Portlanders.* Portlandia is funny because most of what occurs and the characters on the show could very easily be found in Portland. What I really can't stand are urban Portlanders who turn up their noses at Suburbanites. I'm sorry, but do you fart rainbows? What makes you so g.d. special that you think you're better than people ho live in the suburbs. Some of us grew up there and are just fine with that. The suburbs have their perks, one of them being not getting harassed by homeless people (or people who just look homeless, but aren't- you can never tell in this town). Also, there generally isn't a pee smell lingering in the suburbs. Besides, the suburbs have nice things you claim to like, such as trees and gardens and fresh air. But no, you turn up your nose and pay way too much on rent, then drink your overpriced (and disgusting) Stumptown Coffee with your fancy espresso machine while twirling your mustache and reading some obscure piece of crappy literature. Or, if you're not the pretentious hipster type, but more of the pretentious hippie, you're composting your own waste and wearing drab clothing that looks like it came from Goodwill, but you really spent an unhealthy amount for something made locally to make you look like you're a poor hippie. And you judge me for dressing nicely when I go out in public. Why are you judging me? I feel like Portland is high school where you're either cool or you're not, and once again in life, I'm not. But I don't care. The cool kids are no fun- they aren't authentic. When you stop caring about what other people think, you get to just be yourself and be who you like, and that is where the fun starts. Take that, Portland.

Oof, so there it is. I'm done. I got it out, and I'm not editing because I want to keep it real- this is what you would hear me say. I almost did a video, but I really didn't want to scare everyone off.

Do you have any rants you feel the need to share? Go ahead and use the comments as your springboard- let's just get it all out in the open. It's rather cathartic.

*Disclaimer: I really believe in putting positivity out into the world, but sometimes you make exceptions. In this case, I wanted to be true to the challenge and true to myself. I absolutely intend this blog to be a place where everyone is welcome and everyone can feel good about themselves. That said, when I talk about Pretentious Portlanders, I am referring to a very specific type of person who lives in Portland. I've made a lot of transplant friends here, and they all know what I'm talking about (they have the same complaints). Plenty of Portlanders are genuine, friendly people. I'm simply ranting about the non-friendly ones.

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