People watching...and other miscellaneous thoughts...

I am a people watcher. I do it both intentionally and unintentionally. I find entertainment in the things people do when no one is watching. Sometimes I find people to be funny, other times appalling, and others down right suspicious.

I went to Lagoon recently with a group of friends and had quite the selection of people to watch. There's nothing quite like a theme park for diversity in numbers. However, while I was watching, I realized that in truth, it shouldn't be called people watching, but more people judging. I almost hesitate to call it judging, because a good majority of the time, it's more me judging myself against them, and not judging them for who they are, but in the end, I am making a judgement about that person based off of merely their look and actions, so truly it is judging.


Being a larger than average girl (and before readers get their panties in a twist, I am sorry...being 5'10" and weighing what I do, does put me in the above average category), I tend to be harder on myself about my appearance. It's not a difficult thing to do when you feel like a giant stuck in the land of skinny-mini's.


However, after being at Lagoon for a full day, I started to really feel much better about my looks. Sure...it could have been the mass amounts of women wearing tube-tops (90% of which really SHOULDN'T have been allowed to wear them). For the first time in years, and perhaps not something I will do again for a while, I wore just my swimsuit while at Lagoona Beach. Why is that so odd, you say? Well, a) that's probably the most exposed I have been in public since I went through the temple in 2008, so it's been a couple years; b) I am a very white girl and due to said a), some areas are whiter than I remembered and c) normally, when venturing out in a swimsuit, I wear shorts and this time I opted not to.


At first, it was hard to walk around in the mass crowds of perfectly tan beauties that swarmed the park's beach resort. However, after the initial self-concious, self-censuring 20 minutes, I REALLY started to look around at all the women around me and noticed exactly just how many ladies really were "perfect". I realized that I was not alone, but rather, in good company. The women were in all shapes and sizes and all levels of perfection/imperfection. It was a rather fabulous realization that I was more similar than dissimilar to a good 80% (I like to make up random %, so just go with me) of the female population. I think in today's society, what with fashion magazines boasting airbrushed beauties, shows on television showing us what looks good and what not to wear, and movies that only cast super skinny heroines...it's hard for a girl to look in the mirror and think she's perfect just the way she is. I am sure that there were plenty of people there that wished I HAD worn more (if only to spare their eyes the strain from the glare), but most of them were in the same boat, so meh.


Other miscellaneous thoughts and slight judgements (the soap box moment continues):


I saw my first teen-lesbian couple. At first, I thought one was a dude and then I quickly realized that it was a girl. It reminded me of when I was a teen and me and my girl friends "married" each other, which was nothing more than female bonding over matching rings. Kinda different now.


I was amazed at the amount of kids that were tattooed. As someone who has a tattoo, I usually don't judge, but I couldn't help but notice how many teens were tatted up! Clearly, no doubt with programs like Miami Ink and L.A. Ink, the younger generations on this earth have decided that permanent color is their best friend. I was shocked at some of the artwork, not only for it's graphic nature, but for it's size! The hundreds of dollars spent! Again, I have a tattoo...so I don't have any room to really talk, however, if you change your style, hair or girlfriend more than once a quarter, you aren't old enough to drink or even rent a car, really...do you think that super sweet skeletal Elvis face in your half sleeve or the bloody gears under your flesh that take up 3/4 of your back will be your favorite in say 20 years?? And when you hate them...how will you cover up something that size?? My advise to all readers: Invest now in the tattoo removal business.


Where's the respect? Older generations of people, those that actually HAD manners, have seriously earned my respect! For heaven sake...if you are waiting in line, wait your turn! And Cross Walks were made to cross IN...not 20 feet to the left of them and when the car almost hits you, you throw your hands up in rude gestures.

The times....they are a changin'.

ok...soap box moment over