Random Girl Strikes Again

All things wise and wonderful... and some really dumb... and mostly random

Saturday, September 13, 2003

I wanna be a supermodel.

Yes, this is my latest goal. It all started on a day when I really felt like a mommy on the edge. I happened to look at the clock and realized it had gotten to be 3 o'clock in the afternoon and I hadn't gotten dressed yet. My hair was crazy looking since my almost 2 yr. old was nice enough to brush it for me as I sat on the toilet that morning. He always whacks me in the head with the brush and then brushes all my hair forward and to the right so it stands out in a strange point. I had also been playing with the baby and she had been giving me kisses. Big wet messy drooly baby kisses. I actually had spit running down the side of my face and dripping onto my neck. Sounds lovely no?

Anyways, I'm not a bad looking gal. I'm about 5'10", short dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin. I'm part Hungarian so I'm pretty sturdy. I like to say I've got an hourglass figure... with a little extra time on my ass. Now, it's taken a lot of work to get to the point where I can say I'm not bad looking. If you'd met me in high school I would have rather believed that Liberace was straight than to believe I was attractive. In fact I remember one conversation where I compared myself to a baboon. I actually asked my big high school crush "I'm not ugly, am I??" Yeah so, my self esteem needed a little work.

Eventually I met the fella I ended up marrying. My darling 7. At first I thought he had a few screws loose. I mean, this guy actually claimed to prefer chunky girls! What a riot right? I figured he probably liked them enough to get some, and then moved on, as had been my short and disappointing dating experience before he came along. So I went along with his exclamations of my beauty and charm, all the while thinking he was sweet, but obviously needed glasses. We've been together over 6 years now and the only change in his tune has been to declare me to be even more beautiful than before. They say that it takes hearing a good thing about yourself fifty times or so before you believe it, but it only takes once to believe a bad thing. I'd heard a lot of bad things growing up from the asses I went to school with here in Bakoville. The wall surrounding my inner self was really high and thick. It's amazing how well being put on a pedestal and ardently and unwaveringly admired works at tearing down that wall.

Back to my desire to strut my stuff on the catwalk. About a year and a half ago I was shopping with my sister in Fashion Bug (one of my very favorite stores in case you were wanting to get me something) when we saw a sign asking for models for the yearly community fashion show. I pointed it out and we both laughed a little at the thought of ourselves as models. By the time we were done shopping however, we had both thought about it enough to realize that we would probably have fun doing it and gathered up our courage to volunteer. I was so nervous the day of the event. I was worried I wouldn't be able to walk down the "runway", let alone manage two twirls and a coy look over my shoulder. My turn came and I did great. The crowd was really nice and I felt like I was something.

A while later, 7 began bouncing a club that hosted a BBW group (big beautiful woman for those of you not in the know) on the weekends. I went and was amazed to see these women, many of whom were significantly larger than I, shakin their groove things in less than I usually wore to bed!
And they had men all over them!! For the first time in my life I got asked to dance by a total stranger. After finding out more about these gals I learned that some were models, some had their own fan websites, some were porn stars, most were just there to have fun and enjoy life in the body God gave them. It really made me realize that being fat wasn't opposite of being considered pretty.

So after having my last baby about 4 1/2 months ago, I've been feeling a little down about how gooshy my tummy is, how much muscle tone I've lost, how I sometimes look like I was dragged behind a horse for a few miles after escaping a rehab clinic... stuff like that. A friend of ours has started her own website where fellas are willing to pay a nice sum each month for the privilege of seeing her naked. I had a look at her pics, and was stunned to see that she and I aren't too much different figure wise. Got me to thinking. I don't want to get naked for anyone, but I can put some clothes on and get paid for it, by gosh.

So my opportunity presented itself a few days ago. I'm getting head and body shots taken soon and will submit them for a modeling job I heard about from a friend. Even my husband was surprised that I wanted to do it. I'm going to give it my best and see what happens. Wish me luck!


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