What a splendid time of year. Finals, presents buying, studying, shopping, stressing, weight gaining, money spending, wrapping, increasing landfills. Oh joy. Oh peace. Oh Christmas.

Sorry, I'm really not that cynical. It just kind of came out.

I worked out with Rachael last night at the SLC. They have TVs going in front of all the cardio machines, and on one of them, the one right in front of me, the Victoria Secret fashion show was airing. I got to watch girls with perfect bodies that all look the same parade around in underwear and angels wings. It was funny because a lot of them, along with their bra and panties, were wearing mittens and warm hats. And of course the angel wings. Pretty ridiculous if you ask me. I was starting to feel a little down on myself, cause I'll never look like them, but then I stopped looking at the TV screen and started looking at the people around me-girls who were bigger than me, smaller than me, the same size as me. That's what's beautiful, how none of our bodies were the same, there's beauty in that variety, in not looking as the same like those dastardly Victoria's Secret models.

It's one thing to think that and write it in a blog, and it's another to actually believe it and to feel actually beautiful in one's own skin, not despite one's un-perfect body, but because of it. That's harder.

Hey, that reminds of me of a Kendall Payne song: "Me and B we hate supermodels. It's not that we know anyone personally. It's just that I'm tired of being compared."