I'll tell you what MY LIFE is, Mr. Anonymous
So I'm considering making this journal friends only, due to all of the negative response I got from various randoms and anonymous posters after I put my pictures up. I had been debating doing that for so long, and it just sucks because I finally took a risk and put myself out there and I got completely shut-down. I probably should've posted in a community but college_ed is gone, michigan_ana is dead, and I'm scared to join another now (although I have been watching ana_in_college reently, they all seem very nice). Anyway, I never really wanted to have a friends only journal but if this gets any more out-of-hand, I'm going to have to.
Sucks.
On another note, I was babysitting today after I went to the library and this is what I wrote when the boy was in him swimming lesson (it's not edited but whatever):
As I approached the clerk, I grinned and exclaimed "Hello!"--a little bit too chipper for the library. I was surprised by my own enthusiasm but, in thinking it over, I much preferred this energy to my previous lack there of.
Twenty minutes prior, I sulked around the "Musicals/Broadway" section of the extremely sparse musical selection at the public library. Head down, arms crossed (except for an occasional tug at my sweatshirt), cheeks sucked in, and toes pointed toward each other to make my legs look more slim; I prowled the second floor. Half of my energy was focused on searching for CDs, half spent making sure as much of my body as possible was covered and/or made to appear as invisible as possible, and half of my energy was spent trying to decipher theh looks people seemed to be shooting at me--while always keeping my head down. (Perhaps the usage of all of these halves of energy is why I am always so exhausted.) "Was that last glance accidental or was she criticizing my thick wrists? They never seem to get any smaller!...or at least small enough."
After all of this sulking, sucking, prowling, pulling and scowling, why did I let out such a joyous greeting to the librarian? I didn't even have to conciously fake the high-pitched-happy-go-lucky tone of my voice this time.
I considered going back to my decidedly critical state of mind after the mood-slip but the old woman behind the desk seemed so excited by my outburst that I couldn't dissappoint her.
She immediately struck up conversation with me about one of my picks, Brenda Lee. "My sister wanted to be Brenda Lee when she grew up, of course, that was back in..." She exclaimed that I must be planning to be "singing and dancing away" when I got home to all of the Broadway musical CDs I had chosen. Oddly enough, her steady flow of cheerful anecdotes didn't make me taste bile as most sickeningly sweet things do. I was genuinely entertained by this happy woman's stories and found myself reacting positively to her kindness.
It made me think, am I an inherent pessimist, destined to be unhappy and envious of everyone I see, or have I merely forgotten what it was like to be satisfied? Maybe all it takes is the kindness of a stranger to unearth all of the good feelings that exist somewhere inside of me.
Then again, I'm still a size 3/4. I'll have time to spend on happiness when I'm a double zero.
Sucks.
On another note, I was babysitting today after I went to the library and this is what I wrote when the boy was in him swimming lesson (it's not edited but whatever):
As I approached the clerk, I grinned and exclaimed "Hello!"--a little bit too chipper for the library. I was surprised by my own enthusiasm but, in thinking it over, I much preferred this energy to my previous lack there of.
Twenty minutes prior, I sulked around the "Musicals/Broadway" section of the extremely sparse musical selection at the public library. Head down, arms crossed (except for an occasional tug at my sweatshirt), cheeks sucked in, and toes pointed toward each other to make my legs look more slim; I prowled the second floor. Half of my energy was focused on searching for CDs, half spent making sure as much of my body as possible was covered and/or made to appear as invisible as possible, and half of my energy was spent trying to decipher theh looks people seemed to be shooting at me--while always keeping my head down. (Perhaps the usage of all of these halves of energy is why I am always so exhausted.) "Was that last glance accidental or was she criticizing my thick wrists? They never seem to get any smaller!...or at least small enough."
After all of this sulking, sucking, prowling, pulling and scowling, why did I let out such a joyous greeting to the librarian? I didn't even have to conciously fake the high-pitched-happy-go-lucky tone of my voice this time.
I considered going back to my decidedly critical state of mind after the mood-slip but the old woman behind the desk seemed so excited by my outburst that I couldn't dissappoint her.
She immediately struck up conversation with me about one of my picks, Brenda Lee. "My sister wanted to be Brenda Lee when she grew up, of course, that was back in..." She exclaimed that I must be planning to be "singing and dancing away" when I got home to all of the Broadway musical CDs I had chosen. Oddly enough, her steady flow of cheerful anecdotes didn't make me taste bile as most sickeningly sweet things do. I was genuinely entertained by this happy woman's stories and found myself reacting positively to her kindness.
It made me think, am I an inherent pessimist, destined to be unhappy and envious of everyone I see, or have I merely forgotten what it was like to be satisfied? Maybe all it takes is the kindness of a stranger to unearth all of the good feelings that exist somewhere inside of me.
Then again, I'm still a size 3/4. I'll have time to spend on happiness when I'm a double zero.