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| October 14, 2001 |
| I can't just sit around being self-centered. It can't be good, and I'll just get depressed. I know that I should stop what I've been doing, and do something useful. Looking up things on online and then trying to read into them just isn't healthly in any respect. What do I expect to find anyways? It must be the rain that's making me like this. Anyhoo, yesterday was nice. I had meant to see the early afternoon showing, but thanks to Tampa's crack public transport, I didn't get there in time. So I wandered around, looked at things I could never possibly afford and eventully saw the movie. I get nervous going into big fancy expensive stores, I'm convinced that I'll be kicked out since somehow it will be obvious that I don't even have enough money for a tube of lip gloss. It's one of those things that I know I shouldn't get paranoid about, but I always do. Money scares me, or more directly, the application of money scares me. I get freaked out by country clubs, and people my age or younger driving fancy cars. It's not that I'm poor, I just think that way. The class system is only meant to indimatdate people who are lower in it. I fell lower then I am, I've never had a car, I don't go on binges of all sorts, I can't even play any instuments. Okay, stop it. I'm getting back into mondo-depresso mode, just a minute....okay, all happy. Screw you, Tiffanys. I went to Old Navy while I was out (woohoo, 50% off sale!), I ended up getting long sleved shirts and a skirt. I also started laughing/screaming in the dressing room. I went to try on the skirt and one of the shirts, they fit! I looked in the mirror and saw an average looking girl, with brown roots showing, pale skin, and big glasses. For a minute it was like I was back in Catholic school, but with a shorter skirt, short hair, and the guts to finally tell people off. I think that I still look like I'm in 8th grade most of time. I'm basically the same height and weight, I'm still as pale as all out gets, and the big kids still don't like me. I think that I stopped growing at 13, I mean I have clothing from the 5th grade that still fits me reasonably well, I'm 18 and a college sophmore for cripe's sakes. I'm an average 18 year old, and I was a really tall 13 year old. I used to fantasise about going back to Emotional Abuse Primary and telling people off. In these dreams, I was taller then everyone else, and they respected me before I even opened my mouth. "So, you thought that I couldn't even make it though freshmen year of high school? Well, I did, in fact I've been accepted to every single college I applied too and with scholarship money." They would be so impressed by this, that all of my old discliplinary reports would be torn up, and every single person who ever pulled shit on me would stand in front of me begging for forgiveness. "Are you sorry? Are you sorry for calling me names, and punching me? Are you sorry for lying, and cheating, and stealing. Are you sorry for nearly getting me expelled, and driving me to consider suicide?" "Yes, yes. We're terribly sorry, it keeps us awake at night and gives us ulcers. We'll do anything to have you forgive us." Of course I would forgive them without consequences, even though I could force them to shine my boots with their toothbrushes. Also in this fantasy I don't have an accent, and I don't really need my glasses. So yeah, I'm going to be wearing that skirt a lot..... |
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