What's hot.

Sometimes, it's important to let your inner imp out. Expecially when she's dressed like that.

I saw Hairspray today. Oddly (or not?) it brought up something I'm very conflicted about: I'm trying to lose more weight, but believe weight has absolutely nothing to do with beauty. Better still, what I'm personally into (for both girls and guys, as it happens) is either the ballet-dancer slender or big enough to feel like I'm putting my arms around something. It's that middle range with muscles that's supposed to be beautiful/handsome that I really don't find terribly exciting.

And where am I trying to park myself? Right there. Because I reach the point of looking anorexic without ever looking slender, and my knees will be much happier with me if I can get down to medium.

And where's the difference between my waistline and somebody else's? The usual place, I suppose: in my head. Though, for what it's worth, maybe it's in my eyes, too--I can't see my own ass, and I confess, that's the bit of girls I'm usually watching walk by.