you people who aren't insanely obsessed with the inadequacy of their bodies

Honey, you realize you were reading the Fashion and Style section of the New York Times?

It's an epic struggle, but somebody's got to do it.

but AFAIK being slim is a risk-factor only for being able to squeeze into small spaces.

And for being taunted. And for, um, not being able to do the backfloat.

There's also the turning-sideways-and-becoming-invisible factor for extreme slimness.

sarameg - I bet the other options were "widowed" and "divorced".

There's also the turning-sideways-and-becoming-invisible factor for extreme slimness.

But that's, like, a superpower! Whereas having sand kicked in your face by the bully who's stealing your gal, nsm.

There's also the turning-sideways-and-becoming-invisible factor for extreme slimness.

And an icreased likelyhood of being given the nickname "Slim Goodbody."

Project Runway:

The best thing about Santino is his Tim Gunn impersenation. He's stopped trying to go as crazy as he did in the earlier challenges, but I don't think I've seen anything of his that I liked at all.

Poor Andrae. What will they do without his reaction shots?

My bet for the top three has been Chloe, Daniel, and Nick, but Nick's starting to worry me.

I'm just sad that these rules involve gigantic man-breasts.

I never got the impression that was the mandatory destination.

"Oh, by the way, you people who aren't insanely obsessed with the inadequacy of their bodies? Feel free to skip this part."

Well, I don't mind reading stories about people who are different from me, so it's not a warning I'd heed. However, it's kinda implicit, and hardly subtle.

AFAIK being slim is a risk-factor only for being able to squeeze into small spaces

Having been too skinny, I do disagree. I'm not insanely obsessed with the inadequacy of my body, but I know I'm healthier when I'm closer to 150 than 100. I get sick less often, and get less sick. I'm not as consistently cold, either. Plus, I look disturbingly ugly that skinny. So I don't wanna.

C'mon -- it's a pastime to look at Mischa Barton and that Olsen chick and Nicole Richie and mutter "Eat a sandwich! Get some flesh on that frame!"

Timelies.

I didn't know there was this much gronk potential in the world. A gift from the insomnia faerie. Ugh.

Had a bad night. Went to bed before the end of Colbert because I was falling asleep on the couch. Then, just as I was drifting off, there was what sounded like a piece of furniture being shifted and then a loud thump/bang, followed by dead silence, from the unit (the landlord's) upstairs. I was freaked out, and waited and waited for another sound. The guy's nice enough to talk to, but a little odd and seems to live almost like a shut in (if he works, he works out of his apartment), and he also smokes/drinks, so I was absolutely horrified that he'd had a heart attack or similar and keeled over, or, worse, had done something awful like maybe hung himself (the sound could have been a chair getting dragged and then kicked over). Worst case scenario thinking, I know, but things happen, and I don't know enough about the guy to say if he's got those tenedencies or not.

So I continued to freak out, and wonder if I should do something, while also thinking that would seem ridiculous (on one or two occasions, there have been not disimilar noises at weird hours in the last year, but never so much absolute quiet afterwards), and just waited to hear any sound of movement. Finally around 3 am, I heard distinct footsteps, and then again a few minutes later. I was hella relieved, but by that point I was so freaking adrenalized that even though I was exhausted I couldn't get to sleep at all (and didn't).

I'm not even on fumes at this point, but I couldn't call in to work today for a bunch of reasons.