Pretending that I haven't been MIA for, oh, the entire summer, let's just jump to the updating and get it on with shall we?
I went. I saw. I conquered. I'm glad I went because now I will never have the regret of not going and wondering what it would have been like but otherwise it wasn't earth shattering, there were no revelations, no friendships rekindled. I did not wear the super sexy dress I blew half my rent on, I wore a webcomic t-shirt with a cropped blazer and fitted pin stripe knee shorts with snake skin print heels and am very happy with the decision. The best part of the whole thing? Honestly? Was my date. I really, really like this boy. Which makes me really, really insane. Seriously. What is worse than not having everything you ever hoped and dreamed for? Actually getting it. And the self sabotage that follows.
Sweet jebus it is never going to leave me. I present, for your viewing ONLY and non commenting pleasure, me, in a bikini, 6 pounds ago. Yes I've gained since last month (I've included my double chin but cropped out my hair, the brand of beer I was holding, and most of the backdrop. Sexay!):
Now, I post this for several reasons. First, this is what 30 extra pounds on a tiny frame look like. Second, would it kill me to drop the beer and tone up already? Third, and most important, the reason why I haven't posted in a long, long time: This blog is crap.
Total, complete, and utter crap.
I started blogging in order to practice writing witty and charming and humorous observations about my life and life in general. It has instead become my secondary therapy, the place where I vent all the crap not fit to share with myself much less the world. It isn't funny, it isn't insightful, it's just me pouring out my insecurities and short comings and misery to the world. Most of the blogs I admire manage to write beautifully about their lives in a funny, human, and touching way instead of making the internet their garbage dumping ground. Now, I need it to be clear that I'm far more sane than any of this about 75% of the time, but somehow this became my confessional journal of misery. And you know what? Tough. It is going to stay this way. As a matter of fact it is going to get MORE this way. Much more. You may not want to continue reading because the rants are going to get worse, the insanity and self obsession more intense, overall, honestly, it is going to look like a damn teenaged angst filled diary except that I'm damn near 30.
I've avoided writing for so long because I wanted to avoid constant bitching and harping and being miserable. Then I realized that this is really my only outlet for such things. In therapy we focus on getting me better and positive things. With my friends I don't share nutty insecurities that even I know are retarded and stupid. With the boyfriend I never mention that I feel like a land whale and want to go on Survivor just for the starvation benefits.
I've made so many wonderful friends blogging over the years, and get to be a part of so many lives. The guilt over the fact that this is my dumping ground for total crap has kept me from blogging because I don't want to burden the interweb with it. The world doesn't need more negativity and surely the amazing people I've come to know and love don't need it either. The fact remains, however, that I need an outlet and this is the forum for it. I am choosing to not feel guilty over posting trite crap. I am choosing to let you know that I'll continue to visit your wonderful blogs and I am okay if you stop visiting here because really? Who needs the negativity, you know?
I'm not going to try to craft well written bits or edit myself. When I feel like bitching or being angsty I'm going to do so. I'm not going to try to post regularly, I'll post when it happens.
So I leave you with this: Breast implants. Jebus there were a TON of fake titties at the reunion. And I may be overweight but some of those bitches wrinkled up like Donatella Versache in the last 10 years and I don't know how. Did they smoke three cartons a day and live on the equator? Have they heard of sunscreen? I don't plan to be wrinkled like that even when I'm 80 and that is without botox. Seriously freaky.