April 12th, 2005

me: ooh!

Kensington Gardens & Hyde Park

The weather here continues to be amazing. I took the 27 bus down to Kensington yesterday and walked around with my Supersampler in one hoodie pocket and my digital in the other. I know I said the Lomo was broken. It's still shredding a fine line down the middle of the film. I'm determined that as long as I can get the film to load - and now that I'm no longer trying to do that in sub-zero temperatures, it's much easier - I'll keep using it. Although now the film advancement indicator is now also broken. If you want durability? Don't buy a Lomo. And stick with the cheap, fun models so you don't feel so bad when they break. Anyway, the film goes in for processing today. In the meantime, here's my digital adventure.


What are you looking at, Swan?
me: ooh!

The "None of My Goddamn Business" principle.

I admit it. When I see a large, heavy, overweight, oh all right a fat person, my initial reaction is not positive. I tend to find a slender athletic build physically attractive. I don't tend to associate fat with aesthetically pleasing automatically. I have to reset my mental processes, the ones that are busy passing judgment on what I assume are the person's diet and exercise lifestyle choices, and apply what I call the "None of My Goddamn Business" principle.

It doesn't take long. Maybe ten seconds. Then I go on to treat the person as I would anybody else upon first meeting them, assuming they don't punch me in the face first: politely.

The "None of My Goddamn Business" principle governs my entire philosophy of social interaction. I've found it futile to try to avoid passing judgment at all. However, I don't tend to question the choices of my acquaintances, friends and family, even if I think they're destructive or that they're going to end in tears and regret. I won't necessarily be openly supportive, either, but as long as the effects of those choices have no effect on me, I strive not to let my estimation of them affect our relationship. After years of pondering, I've come to the conclusion that your decision to eat a burger and fries instead of a salad has virtually no impact on the quality of my life.

The moral of the story is, I don't care if you're fat and neither should you, as long as you're not trying to take the food off my plate before I'm finished eating, because that steak is mine, bitch.