Chronicles of a Corporate Intern
Monday, June 30, 2008
Paycheck
Finally, I can breath again.
I was pretty upset yesterday when my card was rejected trying to get a Dairy Queen combo meal. Luckily my sweetheart of a boyfriend (I never told you that, he's big and manly and an asshole) was there to help me out.
I was pretty upset yesterday when my card was rejected trying to get a Dairy Queen combo meal. Luckily my sweetheart of a boyfriend (I never told you that, he's big and manly and an asshole) was there to help me out.
So I Said I Was Gonna Sleep
But I'm not. Instead I'm browsing Blog Catalog entertaining myself and leaving comments and trying to get people to amble pointlessly over to my pointless site to read my pointless babble. Because we all waste time. Especially those of us who don't have it to waste.
I found this:
http://www.offendedblogger.com/
Yeah, no offense, but your blog annoys me. Such things make me shudder and want to hide in a corner and stop writing in case my words are as obnoxious as those. I know my writing style, while perhaps not the best or most connected or such, can't be that annoying. Can it?
Someone tell me now if so, so I can try to stop torturing you all more than need be. (As in, I'll keep writing this, and you get to rant at me so you feel better.)
There are more promising finds for the night though.
http://www.triloquist.blogspot.com/
Entertaining and I can read it without wanting to commit suicide! Yay!
I found this:
http://www.offendedblogger.com/
Yeah, no offense, but your blog annoys me. Such things make me shudder and want to hide in a corner and stop writing in case my words are as obnoxious as those. I know my writing style, while perhaps not the best or most connected or such, can't be that annoying. Can it?
Someone tell me now if so, so I can try to stop torturing you all more than need be. (As in, I'll keep writing this, and you get to rant at me so you feel better.)
There are more promising finds for the night though.
http://www.triloquist.blogspot.com/
Entertaining and I can read it without wanting to commit suicide! Yay!
Labels: Ramblings
Fenders on Front Street
Fenders on Front Street is an annual car show they have in downtown Issaquah, WA (iz-a-kwa). I hadn't heard about it until Saturday afternoon, while on a mission to find some sort of dirt road (Amanda, John and I got bored, and I own a Jeep, what do you expect?) we ran across a big sign proclaiming its existence.
So, lacking anything better to do with my Sunday morning I headed down. By myself. I went to a car show by myself, who would have thought?
It resulted in two things: A cemented want of a '67 Camaro SS Convertable, and the need to take my Jeep off road more.
I don't know how the second one happened, but there were some pretty cars. Like this '68 that I drooled over for far too long and took far too many pictures of:
Labels: Cars
Poppy
Nights at Dan and John's are never boring. Especially when there's family involved.
"Poppy", though, is something else.
I really like him. He's a lot of fun, a burly old guy well worth listening to.
His favorite colors are "Blue and female".
And he knows you can't go wrong when you have a "pretty girlfriend who drives a Jeep".
We're going to get along fine.
"Poppy", though, is something else.
I really like him. He's a lot of fun, a burly old guy well worth listening to.
His favorite colors are "Blue and female".
And he knows you can't go wrong when you have a "pretty girlfriend who drives a Jeep".
We're going to get along fine.
Public Transportation
(Written Thursday, June 26th, 7:30 am)
This morning I braved the hell that is the Seattle public transportation system. Bravely I boarded the bus for the first time ever, over paid my fair (while everyone else had swipey cards, I want a swipey card) and was deposited downtown.
Luckily I know the area around Westlake Center and Pacific Place well, and once I made it out of the bus tunnel onto 5th and Pine I could quickly navigate to the old building on 4th Street that is the Hotel Andra.
I looked stressed enough that some nice guy said "hi" and gave me a smile, just 'cause I looked so down. The valets here are cool too. Perhaps the morning is not a total loss.
I still dislike going places without my little green Jeep, I feel incomplete.
From my phone in the lobby of the magnificent Hotel Andra, this is Shelley saying "screw you Seattle".
(Sadly, the "Publish Post" button doesn't work on my phone for some reason.)
This morning I braved the hell that is the Seattle public transportation system. Bravely I boarded the bus for the first time ever, over paid my fair (while everyone else had swipey cards, I want a swipey card) and was deposited downtown.
Luckily I know the area around Westlake Center and Pacific Place well, and once I made it out of the bus tunnel onto 5th and Pine I could quickly navigate to the old building on 4th Street that is the Hotel Andra.
I looked stressed enough that some nice guy said "hi" and gave me a smile, just 'cause I looked so down. The valets here are cool too. Perhaps the morning is not a total loss.
I still dislike going places without my little green Jeep, I feel incomplete.
From my phone in the lobby of the magnificent Hotel Andra, this is Shelley saying "screw you Seattle".
(Sadly, the "Publish Post" button doesn't work on my phone for some reason.)
I should not be up this late.
But I owe this thing a few posts, so I'm going to put them up. I have about 3.
Labels: Ramblings
Thursday, June 26, 2008
The Material
I spent the afternoon at Fishermen's terminal; looking at the boats and the fish and the birds, and on occasion my book. It's far from the most scenic spot in town, but it was nice none-the-less. I reconnected with myself, and remembered what I want out of life.
I spend a lot of time talking about how one day I'm going to run this and one day I'm going to be able to afford that, and I think I may have given people the wrong idea about my ambitions.
I want to be happy, simply. And the reason I can be so focused on material things right now is that I am happy.
I wake up every morning and immediately text message the most amazing guy I could ever hope for. I talk to my loving father, get on AIM and chat with all my darling friends. Then I make myself look (even more) gorgeous, pig out on some donuts, and go about my day.
I'm beautiful, intelligent, strong, kind, confident, and appreciative. I, generally, feel good about myself and have a ton of people who care about me. And my life is interesting, I stay busy and don't let things get too mundane.
That's really all I need, an interesting life and people who care. And I can't forsee my possession of these things changing, so for now, I'll focus on what I don't have.
You should all worry when I start wanting for something less material.
I spend a lot of time talking about how one day I'm going to run this and one day I'm going to be able to afford that, and I think I may have given people the wrong idea about my ambitions.
I want to be happy, simply. And the reason I can be so focused on material things right now is that I am happy.
I wake up every morning and immediately text message the most amazing guy I could ever hope for. I talk to my loving father, get on AIM and chat with all my darling friends. Then I make myself look (even more) gorgeous, pig out on some donuts, and go about my day.
I'm beautiful, intelligent, strong, kind, confident, and appreciative. I, generally, feel good about myself and have a ton of people who care about me. And my life is interesting, I stay busy and don't let things get too mundane.
That's really all I need, an interesting life and people who care. And I can't forsee my possession of these things changing, so for now, I'll focus on what I don't have.
You should all worry when I start wanting for something less material.
Labels: Profound
Monday, June 23, 2008
No New York
I should've seen it coming. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up.
There will be no New York trip for me.
It would have been awesome - and a good learning experience - but mostly just awesome. Because I would've gotten to go to New York. No parents, just my mildly alcoholic bosses.
But, there's a conference at the Hotel Andra later this week where I get to spend a day in a fancy hotel with free catering; and get paid $15 an hour for it. Perhaps more, because it might be overtime by then.
So, really, what am I complaining about? I've got it pretty good.
Website's going to beta this week. I'm excited, all my hard work is going somewhere. It's so nice to know all the money we're spending is actually getting something done!
This is why I'm in Marketing. That's right - I spend money like it's my job. Because it is my job.
Take that accounting majors.
There will be no New York trip for me.
It would have been awesome - and a good learning experience - but mostly just awesome. Because I would've gotten to go to New York. No parents, just my mildly alcoholic bosses.
But, there's a conference at the Hotel Andra later this week where I get to spend a day in a fancy hotel with free catering; and get paid $15 an hour for it. Perhaps more, because it might be overtime by then.
So, really, what am I complaining about? I've got it pretty good.
Website's going to beta this week. I'm excited, all my hard work is going somewhere. It's so nice to know all the money we're spending is actually getting something done!
This is why I'm in Marketing. That's right - I spend money like it's my job. Because it is my job.
Take that accounting majors.
Labels: Work
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
The Sword Bucket
It's a sign of the crazy people I associate myself with.
I decided, not all too long ago, that I want a sword bucket.
As in, an umbrella bucket (maybe a metal one with the words "Sword Bucket" on it when I get the money?) that my friends can put their swords in when they come over.
Of course, I told all my friends that, were I to do this, they would have to carry swords.
And they all said "Okay!".
I love them.
I decided, not all too long ago, that I want a sword bucket.
As in, an umbrella bucket (maybe a metal one with the words "Sword Bucket" on it when I get the money?) that my friends can put their swords in when they come over.
Of course, I told all my friends that, were I to do this, they would have to carry swords.
And they all said "Okay!".
I love them.
Labels: Friends
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Strange Dream...
Not that I have normal ones.
But I was definitely at camp with John and J.J., and J.J. and I ended up going out and stuck in the middle of nowhere. For some reason I was in a wedding dress, and there was a very high chance I was going to end up in a coma because of it. (We were trying to cross a bridge and it was falling apart and we got across just in time which meant we had to go back over the mountain and I was going to get in the head by a boulder because I was in a wedding dress so there was nothing to protect my head, but for some reason his head was safe...)
At another point a bunch of us were camping (Amanda I remember clearly being there) and we ended up at the same spot as a bunch of people from highschool - I think something was chasing us. And I think that's how we all ended up at camp anyway, something evil was taking over civilization and so we ran to camp for safety.
And then John was talking about all the food he was going to pack on his ride. I don't remember what it all was. But it was really random, and there were like two things for the entire week. And for some reason right before that I had been at his high school with him and he was talking to one of his teachers about grades.
I don't know...
But I was definitely at camp with John and J.J., and J.J. and I ended up going out and stuck in the middle of nowhere. For some reason I was in a wedding dress, and there was a very high chance I was going to end up in a coma because of it. (We were trying to cross a bridge and it was falling apart and we got across just in time which meant we had to go back over the mountain and I was going to get in the head by a boulder because I was in a wedding dress so there was nothing to protect my head, but for some reason his head was safe...)
At another point a bunch of us were camping (Amanda I remember clearly being there) and we ended up at the same spot as a bunch of people from highschool - I think something was chasing us. And I think that's how we all ended up at camp anyway, something evil was taking over civilization and so we ran to camp for safety.
And then John was talking about all the food he was going to pack on his ride. I don't remember what it all was. But it was really random, and there were like two things for the entire week. And for some reason right before that I had been at his high school with him and he was talking to one of his teachers about grades.
I don't know...
Labels: Ramblings
Monday, June 16, 2008
Dan's Home...
Damn distracting boys that find ways for me to spend all my money then keep me from work.
Labels: Boys
Friday, June 13, 2008
Sickness
I guess it's kind of one of those things.
It could be worse. It could be a lot worse.
But oh, how it could be better, how it used to be better.
To be healthy again... What I wouldn't give...
This new development is at least temporary. That is a relief beyond anything I know, I was honestly frightened I had asthma. I can barely handle one chronic and one non-chronic condition in a matter of 3 or 4 months, two that I'm stuck with permanently? I don't know what I would have done.
I want to overcome and get better, but no one's sure if I ever will. And that scares me.
Not to say that I don't function how I am. It's just a painful functioning, a more difficult and careful one than I would like.
I want to see the world, but I can't eat the world's food. I can't even drink water.
Do you know how annoying it is to not be able to drink water? Or soda? Or coffee?
It's one of the most aweful things I've experienced, as sad and shallow as that may sound.
Some days I just want a glass of water.
I'm not addicted to caffiene anymore though.
There's no simple way about it, it's tough, no matter how severe the disease or condition. I know people who have it much worse off than me and that really doesn't make it any easier. I still feel like I'm pushing through some thick bushes to come out on the other side - except I don't know how far they go - I don't know if there is another side.
It scares me. Every day.
My life is frightening me in so many ways right now.
It could be worse. It could be a lot worse.
But oh, how it could be better, how it used to be better.
To be healthy again... What I wouldn't give...
This new development is at least temporary. That is a relief beyond anything I know, I was honestly frightened I had asthma. I can barely handle one chronic and one non-chronic condition in a matter of 3 or 4 months, two that I'm stuck with permanently? I don't know what I would have done.
I want to overcome and get better, but no one's sure if I ever will. And that scares me.
Not to say that I don't function how I am. It's just a painful functioning, a more difficult and careful one than I would like.
I want to see the world, but I can't eat the world's food. I can't even drink water.
Do you know how annoying it is to not be able to drink water? Or soda? Or coffee?
It's one of the most aweful things I've experienced, as sad and shallow as that may sound.
Some days I just want a glass of water.
I'm not addicted to caffiene anymore though.
There's no simple way about it, it's tough, no matter how severe the disease or condition. I know people who have it much worse off than me and that really doesn't make it any easier. I still feel like I'm pushing through some thick bushes to come out on the other side - except I don't know how far they go - I don't know if there is another side.
It scares me. Every day.
My life is frightening me in so many ways right now.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Ramblings
I write.
It's theraputic, cathartic. It helps.
What I write depends on my level of depression or anger:
If I'm slightly depressed or angry I'll pull out the fiction prose. I work on my novel.
If I'm pretty depressed or angry it's the non-fiction prose. I write what I feel.
If I'm really depressed or angry the poetry comes out. That's what you see below.
I hadn't noticed the scale before last night, but it's totally true.
It's theraputic, cathartic. It helps.
What I write depends on my level of depression or anger:
If I'm slightly depressed or angry I'll pull out the fiction prose. I work on my novel.
If I'm pretty depressed or angry it's the non-fiction prose. I write what I feel.
If I'm really depressed or angry the poetry comes out. That's what you see below.
I hadn't noticed the scale before last night, but it's totally true.
Labels: Ramblings
Night Time Ramblings of a Broken Soul
One night left of this endless dream
No one to thank - or so it seems
In the morning I'll have to scream
Dried up tears refusing to fall
Remeber them - those late night calls
Leaving a broken china doll
What once was great falling apart
My tired soul - stabbed by those darts
All that's left of a once-strong heart
I used to think myself so strong
As if elite - above those throngs
After you I couldn't last long
A simple pattern to follow
A poison waits - a deathly swallow
Leaving you grave and hollow
Labels: Ramblings
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
I'm a college student, this is kind of important for me.
I haven't gotten a paycheck.
And there I was thinking that I only hadn't gotten one.
Of course, upon emailing my HR rep, she says "You haven't gotten a single one since you've started working? You should have two!"
Great, thanks.
Somebody owes me about $2,000 and I need it. I am broke. Nobody understands the gravity of my brokeness. And I'm really tired of being stressed out about this.
I'm going to go into her office today and be like "Hi, I have no money. Please fix it faster."
If somebody doesn't pay me soon I'm going to go get another job. Minimum wage is higher than nothing, but both are lower than the $15/hour I should be getting.
I'm annoyed. And stressed out. And freaking out. And a plethora of generally bad emotions relating to this issue.
Okay, so I wanted to use the word "plethora". Can you blame me?
And there I was thinking that I only hadn't gotten one.
Of course, upon emailing my HR rep, she says "You haven't gotten a single one since you've started working? You should have two!"
Great, thanks.
Somebody owes me about $2,000 and I need it. I am broke. Nobody understands the gravity of my brokeness. And I'm really tired of being stressed out about this.
I'm going to go into her office today and be like "Hi, I have no money. Please fix it faster."
If somebody doesn't pay me soon I'm going to go get another job. Minimum wage is higher than nothing, but both are lower than the $15/hour I should be getting.
I'm annoyed. And stressed out. And freaking out. And a plethora of generally bad emotions relating to this issue.
Okay, so I wanted to use the word "plethora". Can you blame me?
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
One Step Away From Down
Downtown Seattle and I have never had the healthiest relationship. We get along okay in the daytime for the most part now, but once night rolls around we tend to quibble. And, of course, when exploring new things we fight even more.
Tim's graduation was at Town Hall down off Seneca Street near the Convention Center. So, I parked in the Convention Center public parking garage. Mistake #1.
Then I exited through a side door of the convention center. Mistake #2.
When I got back to the convention center (at like 10:30 at night mind you) the door was locked. In fact, all the doors on that wing were locked. So were the doors into the garage. And the large doors were closed. And the elevators were disabled.
Yeah. I was unimpressed.
Finally (after falling down some stairs and cutting my foot so I was bleeding on my white leather shoes) I found some lady by some random door into the convention center and she let me in.
Why?
Because she couldn't find the parking garage either. An elevator ride later we emerged on the floor right next to the door to the garage where the Jeep was.
It was my garage, not the poor lady's. After parting ways I paid my ticket and climbed happily into my car (removing the shoes. Blood only got on the gold rings, thank God).
Peeling out of that parking lot blasting the EP version of "Clutch" and cruising down the waterfront was one of the most liberating moments in recent memory.
Tim's graduation was at Town Hall down off Seneca Street near the Convention Center. So, I parked in the Convention Center public parking garage. Mistake #1.
Then I exited through a side door of the convention center. Mistake #2.
When I got back to the convention center (at like 10:30 at night mind you) the door was locked. In fact, all the doors on that wing were locked. So were the doors into the garage. And the large doors were closed. And the elevators were disabled.
Yeah. I was unimpressed.
Finally (after falling down some stairs and cutting my foot so I was bleeding on my white leather shoes) I found some lady by some random door into the convention center and she let me in.
Why?
Because she couldn't find the parking garage either. An elevator ride later we emerged on the floor right next to the door to the garage where the Jeep was.
It was my garage, not the poor lady's. After parting ways I paid my ticket and climbed happily into my car (removing the shoes. Blood only got on the gold rings, thank God).
Peeling out of that parking lot blasting the EP version of "Clutch" and cruising down the waterfront was one of the most liberating moments in recent memory.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
One day and Some days
One day...
I am going to wake up and call all my friends, and ask them "How are you?" and when they say "I'm good, how are you?" I'm going to be able to respond "Healthy". At that point in time, my life will be perfect.
Some days...
I feel like I'm a total fool when it comes to my relationship and some days I just don't care.
I am going to wake up and call all my friends, and ask them "How are you?" and when they say "I'm good, how are you?" I'm going to be able to respond "Healthy". At that point in time, my life will be perfect.
Some days...
I feel like I'm a total fool when it comes to my relationship and some days I just don't care.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Why John Can't Write: Gender Inequality and this Article
Why Judy Can't Add: Gender Inequality and the Math Gap
Seriously? There is so much wrong with this article that I don't know where to start. How twisted and biased can one article get. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for women being equal and what-not, but... Seriously?
The main problem with this article is the way the information is presented, and the wording.
Take a look, never once do boys score lower than girls at reading - girls always score higher. And not once do boys score higher than girls at math - girls always score lower.
The “math gap” is ascribed to women having a lower status, certainly not men having a higher one.
And the “reading gap” could have absolutely nothing to do with social inequality, clearly. Wait, why not?
I could be wrong but I think it all very obviously has to do with socialization. Think about the kind of toys and games young boys are subject to in juxtaposition to what we girls are given.
If you get Legos you’re going to be more inclined to be doing logical, mathematical brain functions; whereas, if you’re given a doll, you’re going to be more focused on a creative story-line.
These are two fairly stereotypical examples, but if you look at how we are brought up, just in general, you will find that boys are much more encouraged to use the logical and spatial thinking that goes along with math while it is more socially acceptable for girls to be reading and storytelling (story-inventing? Think dress-up and tea parties).
Honestly, do these people really believe these two aren’t related and cannot be equally explained by the gender inequality? I don’t really believe inequality fully explains either, but, whatever, I’m not an OECD scientist.
Seriously? There is so much wrong with this article that I don't know where to start. How twisted and biased can one article get. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for women being equal and what-not, but... Seriously?
The main problem with this article is the way the information is presented, and the wording.
Take a look, never once do boys score lower than girls at reading - girls always score higher. And not once do boys score higher than girls at math - girls always score lower.
The “math gap” is ascribed to women having a lower status, certainly not men having a higher one.
And the “reading gap” could have absolutely nothing to do with social inequality, clearly. Wait, why not?
I could be wrong but I think it all very obviously has to do with socialization. Think about the kind of toys and games young boys are subject to in juxtaposition to what we girls are given.
If you get Legos you’re going to be more inclined to be doing logical, mathematical brain functions; whereas, if you’re given a doll, you’re going to be more focused on a creative story-line.
These are two fairly stereotypical examples, but if you look at how we are brought up, just in general, you will find that boys are much more encouraged to use the logical and spatial thinking that goes along with math while it is more socially acceptable for girls to be reading and storytelling (story-inventing? Think dress-up and tea parties).
Honestly, do these people really believe these two aren’t related and cannot be equally explained by the gender inequality? I don’t really believe inequality fully explains either, but, whatever, I’m not an OECD scientist.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
A Blog Spot
http://jezebel.com/5013407/the-town-bicycle
Because sometimes it's really better not to ask.
And honestly, that's just awesome.
Because sometimes it's really better not to ask.
And honestly, that's just awesome.
Chad.
"Hi, I'm Chad. I just wanted to let you know that we have a script over here named after your dad. So if it sounds like we're saying bad things about your dad, that's not it. We're having troubles with this script."
"Haha, okay."
"I think about it every time I say something. I don't want you to think we blame him for all our problems."
"I blame him for all my problems."
"Well, in that case, we should all do lunch sometime and talk about how he causes problems!"
I still wonder how he got his head over the cubicle wall...
"Haha, okay."
"I think about it every time I say something. I don't want you to think we blame him for all our problems."
"I blame him for all my problems."
"Well, in that case, we should all do lunch sometime and talk about how he causes problems!"
I still wonder how he got his head over the cubicle wall...
"Baby, We're From the Deep End of the Gene Pool"
It's amazing what those late night after-sex conversations can turn into. Especially when it's Dan and I having them. You add my craziness to his wit and it can turn out pretty bizarre.
Like the night we decided on the three facets of humanity: morality, intelligence, and beauty.
We decided that everybody has two of these three facets. And the way they are divided up is best described using the analogy of a swimming pool:
At the shallow end you have the beautiful, moral people. There's really not a lot too them, they're just kind of wandering aimlessly through life, looking pretty and doing good. They bask in the sunshine and work on their tans.
Behind them are the intelligent, moral people. They're ugly and boring and, while definitely deeper than the pretty air-heads, they still lack the ambition and foresite that morality bars. They just kind of swim in circles in the middle of the pool.
Then, at the deep end, are us beautiful, intelligent, immoral people. You kind of have to watch your back around us. We swim in the dark abyss at the far end of the gene pool with the krakens and other monstrocities.
It all makes sense to me.
Like the night we decided on the three facets of humanity: morality, intelligence, and beauty.
We decided that everybody has two of these three facets. And the way they are divided up is best described using the analogy of a swimming pool:
At the shallow end you have the beautiful, moral people. There's really not a lot too them, they're just kind of wandering aimlessly through life, looking pretty and doing good. They bask in the sunshine and work on their tans.
Behind them are the intelligent, moral people. They're ugly and boring and, while definitely deeper than the pretty air-heads, they still lack the ambition and foresite that morality bars. They just kind of swim in circles in the middle of the pool.
Then, at the deep end, are us beautiful, intelligent, immoral people. You kind of have to watch your back around us. We swim in the dark abyss at the far end of the gene pool with the krakens and other monstrocities.
It all makes sense to me.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
I'm Not Anorexic, and I Like It That Way
I am about to break the rules of womanhood.
But I'm dating my friend's ex and watch Sex & the City in Carhartts over pizza and beer, so I'm okay with that.
I weigh 97 pounds.
90 fucking 7 pounds.
Do you have any idea how bloody tiny that makes me?
Before this whole sick thing came about I was up to 113.
My formerly tight jeans now fit me almost loosely. (They're the smaller end of size 0... I'm going to have to go back to girl sizes soon.)
But that isn't really what this is about - this is about the fact that I can't talk to anyone about it.
I'm seriously concerned about myself right now and I can't talk to any of my friends about it.
Seriously, wtf?
I tried to last night, the conversation turned out something like this:
"So... I've been losing weight."
"Me too! I'm so excited."
"I'm kind of worried about it, if I lose much more weight I'm going to cease to exist."
"Hahaha, with a mouth like yours you'll never cease to exist, you'll always been in someone's face arguing with them about something and trying to make them do it your way."
Yeah, great, thanks.
Oh well, I tried.
Has the world really come down to that? A generation of women so obsessed with being skinny that they are blind to health risks and jealous of those who lose weight to pain and suffering such as I have?
I have heard, so many times lately, "You've been losing weight? Maybe I ought to get me some of that disease you've got."
Sure, you can have it, I'll go ahead and be fat.
But I'm dating my friend's ex and watch Sex & the City in Carhartts over pizza and beer, so I'm okay with that.
I weigh 97 pounds.
90 fucking 7 pounds.
Do you have any idea how bloody tiny that makes me?
Before this whole sick thing came about I was up to 113.
My formerly tight jeans now fit me almost loosely. (They're the smaller end of size 0... I'm going to have to go back to girl sizes soon.)
But that isn't really what this is about - this is about the fact that I can't talk to anyone about it.
I'm seriously concerned about myself right now and I can't talk to any of my friends about it.
Seriously, wtf?
I tried to last night, the conversation turned out something like this:
"So... I've been losing weight."
"Me too! I'm so excited."
"I'm kind of worried about it, if I lose much more weight I'm going to cease to exist."
"Hahaha, with a mouth like yours you'll never cease to exist, you'll always been in someone's face arguing with them about something and trying to make them do it your way."
Yeah, great, thanks.
Oh well, I tried.
Has the world really come down to that? A generation of women so obsessed with being skinny that they are blind to health risks and jealous of those who lose weight to pain and suffering such as I have?
I have heard, so many times lately, "You've been losing weight? Maybe I ought to get me some of that disease you've got."
Sure, you can have it, I'll go ahead and be fat.
Labels: I'm Female, Sick
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Comparisons...
JOE MATHLETE'S GREAT AMERICAN BLOG: I just saw a little bit of Grey's Anatomy
Why do I agree with this, and can sit here and justify dragging my boyfriend to see Sex & the City?
Well, first of all, my boyfriend likes Sex & the City.
Second of all... I don't have a second of all.
I have never felt a compulsion to watch Dawson's Creek, One Tree Hill, the OC, Grey's Anatomy, Friends, or any other of the mindless crap out there. So how can I sit here and punish myself with Sex & the City? Is there really any difference between their crap and my crap?
I don't know.
I guess all I have to go by is the fact that, in essence, I am Carrie Bradshaw. I am the neurotic, insecure, confused, shoe-obsessed girl who loves to write and spend money. We have the same ideas about love, life, and shoes. So where can it go wrong?
Am I a hypocrite?
For that matter, do I care if I am?
No. I like Sex & the City, I'm not interested in the rest of the crap. End of story.
Why do I agree with this, and can sit here and justify dragging my boyfriend to see Sex & the City?
Well, first of all, my boyfriend likes Sex & the City.
Second of all... I don't have a second of all.
I have never felt a compulsion to watch Dawson's Creek, One Tree Hill, the OC, Grey's Anatomy, Friends, or any other of the mindless crap out there. So how can I sit here and punish myself with Sex & the City? Is there really any difference between their crap and my crap?
I don't know.
I guess all I have to go by is the fact that, in essence, I am Carrie Bradshaw. I am the neurotic, insecure, confused, shoe-obsessed girl who loves to write and spend money. We have the same ideas about love, life, and shoes. So where can it go wrong?
Am I a hypocrite?
For that matter, do I care if I am?
No. I like Sex & the City, I'm not interested in the rest of the crap. End of story.
Labels: I'm Female
