strange infatuation seems to grace the evening tide
Tiki is curled up next to me right now, licking and scratching herself something fierce.
I never realized it before, but I really enjoy having a dog.
I guess I just need someone to love,
and the only viable option at the moment
is an oversized black-coated puppy
with a penchant for punching me in the uterus
and licking my feet.
My new year has been alright thusfar.
I worked three days this past week, and will probably only work one or two next week.
...which is good, considering I still haven't started the papers I was supposed to finish over the break;
but then again, I really really really need the money.
Stable income is hard to come by at school, considering their aversion to fairly-priced student labour.
And here's a kick in the money-grubbing crotch:
apparently, before last Thursday, I hadn't been to my dentist in almost 3 years.
Huh!
So when I found out that I had a cracked filling, a cracked tooth, and a cavity under a filling [all perpetuated by clenching and grinding my teeth],
PLUS four other minor "imperfections" (one possibly requiring a root canal),
I considered myself lucky.
(my sense of logic is warped.)
So...the good news:
I might get a fraction of that worked on before I get back to school.
The bad news:
my dentist has sold me on quasi-cosmetic dentistry for the fronts of my teeth,
which will cost me an additional payment of My Soul, plus a few thousand dollars.
I've been trying to not let people make me feel bad about myself (and they don't),
but my teeth have bothered me for a good long while.
Plus, the fronts of my teeth are fillings due to braces gone bad,
and the enamel is wearing off fairly quickly;
I'd rather just have the problem fixed on the whole versus endure more health problems.
...and my smile will be fixed in the process.
What's wrong with mixing business with the slightest bit of pleasure?
SPEAKING OF feeling bad about oneself (sorry, I should just update more often)! WUH!
I went to a party a few nights ago [details later]
and there were two girls in attendance with rather large...implants.
Jeah.
I thought that was totally passe, but apparently three more chicks at the party wanted to get them done too!
Now, I was totally bumped out of the conversation,
as I was the only chick there who's naturally well-endowed;
but I kept trying to tell them,
No! You're beautiful the way you are! Why pay $5000 for something that's completely subjective?!!
I'd take a smaller rack ANY day!
I mean, I'm not exactly Kate Moss or anything --
my boobs are proportional to my body size.
I dunno.
I think I just felt bad that the one girl was getting hers paid for by her boyfriend,
who "really really wants her to get them done."
[paging all eating disorders, fashion magazines, and drug culture!]
And this girl is GORGEOUS -- and not exactly an A-cup, either.
Why pick on her only insecurity?
PISS, man!
Here's the thing:
I'm totally not judging them
- what you do with your body is none of my business;
I just feel bad for their level of insecurity that made them shell out a deuceload of money
on a procedure that has a lot of risk, recovery, and stigma attached to it.
I think I might be a hypocrite,
hiding my hypocracy behind a medical backing.
_________________________________________________________________
Goals for the new year:
- stretch more
- go to the gym 3x/week
- take [a] boxing lesson[s]
- finally (!) quit smoking...again(!!)
- drink more water
- drink less liquor
- let one pet peeve roll off my shoulders
- read more
- get something school-related completely done before its due date
- work 15-20 hours a week during the school year
- figure out how to cut time out of my 3-year program
- find an apartment
- furnish said apartment for uber-cheap
- go to more shows
- hit up broadway just once
- sing in public just once
- love something that i used to hate