(no subject)
This entry is probably going to contain a lot of grammatical errors, and just plain bad writing.
-------------
My goals for today:
1) Study French for half an hour.
2) Read to at least page 350 of Jane Eyre.
3) Purchase Leo Africanus and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime online.
4) See Carlos.
5) Walk to Linda's house.
This exercise is a good motivator. I like having tangible goals rather than vague notions such as "get organized". How should I begin to get organized? My life is very disorganized. Perhaps a filing cabinet is a good start.
Yesterday Linda and I took a night walk. It was really exhilarating. I could easily get addicted to the anonymity and openness of going out at night. I learned something though. Being a girl is tough. All everything revolves around now is my being "hot". I never thought that word applied to me, but now it's like the first thing my acquaintances will say to me. And I wish they wouldn't because afterwards I feel like I can't talk to them. By not talking I'm probably confirming their opinion that, though I may be "hot" (I still can't get used to that word), I'm an insipid person lacking personality. But I'm just assuming that that's what they think; I'm probably being paranoid yet again.
Then I went home and took off my shoes in front of the mirror. And as I bent down I couldn't help but see my reflection -- and my v-neck shirt was so low-cut that you could see straight down my cleavage, to the bottom of my bra. I'd been wearing that shirt the entire day; had bent over innumerable times to get stuff out of my backpack. People must have seen. I felt like such a slut. I thought I looked decent and put-together yesterday. I was wearing Levi's classic jeans that weren't too tight with Ralph Lauren sneakers and that black v-neck. I didn't realize my black v-neck was that decollete, but then again I never bent down to check its coverage. With the way I dress, it shouldn't be a surprise to me that people are inclined to notice my body.
I should have realized that I was dressing so revealingly. Carlos was once able to see my bra cup just by standing at a certain angle when I was wearing my gray v-neck, and that should have been a good enough hint. But I, in my stupid unawareness, just readjusted my shirt and thought that took care of that. People must have formed the worst opinions of me by now. I feel guilty for not paying enough attention. Like I really am a slut.
-------------
My goals for today:
1) Study French for half an hour.
2) Read to at least page 350 of Jane Eyre.
3) Purchase Leo Africanus and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime online.
4) See Carlos.
5) Walk to Linda's house.
This exercise is a good motivator. I like having tangible goals rather than vague notions such as "get organized". How should I begin to get organized? My life is very disorganized. Perhaps a filing cabinet is a good start.
Yesterday Linda and I took a night walk. It was really exhilarating. I could easily get addicted to the anonymity and openness of going out at night. I learned something though. Being a girl is tough. All everything revolves around now is my being "hot". I never thought that word applied to me, but now it's like the first thing my acquaintances will say to me. And I wish they wouldn't because afterwards I feel like I can't talk to them. By not talking I'm probably confirming their opinion that, though I may be "hot" (I still can't get used to that word), I'm an insipid person lacking personality. But I'm just assuming that that's what they think; I'm probably being paranoid yet again.
Then I went home and took off my shoes in front of the mirror. And as I bent down I couldn't help but see my reflection -- and my v-neck shirt was so low-cut that you could see straight down my cleavage, to the bottom of my bra. I'd been wearing that shirt the entire day; had bent over innumerable times to get stuff out of my backpack. People must have seen. I felt like such a slut. I thought I looked decent and put-together yesterday. I was wearing Levi's classic jeans that weren't too tight with Ralph Lauren sneakers and that black v-neck. I didn't realize my black v-neck was that decollete, but then again I never bent down to check its coverage. With the way I dress, it shouldn't be a surprise to me that people are inclined to notice my body.
I should have realized that I was dressing so revealingly. Carlos was once able to see my bra cup just by standing at a certain angle when I was wearing my gray v-neck, and that should have been a good enough hint. But I, in my stupid unawareness, just readjusted my shirt and thought that took care of that. People must have formed the worst opinions of me by now. I feel guilty for not paying enough attention. Like I really am a slut.