For the person reading this who struggles with low self esteem.....I'm sorry. I wish I could help you.
Because I know what it feels like to not feel good enough. To not be pretty enough or skinny enough. I know what it's like to avoid mirrors because you don't want to be reminded of what you look like, it will just make you anxious for the rest of the day.
I know what it feels like to see other girls on Facebook who get a hundred likes per selfie. I know what it's like to tell yourself, "Psh. Who cares?" I know how we try to rationalize it by thinking, "I could get that many likes if my tits were halfway out in my pictures too".
I also know what it's like the next day when you take a picture of yourself and pull your shirt down a little lower than usual but then feel stupid because that's not the kind of woman you want to be. You rather be highly regarded for your character, admired for your real beauty, not "liked" because of your cleavage. You think, "Ha. Thank God I have more respect for myself than those girls...." as you bare your shoulder and take a 50th snapshot. Maybe this will be the one.
I know what it's like to never believe him when he says, "I like your body. I like how you look." I know what it's like when you first notice the slight annoyance in his voice, when he has to reassure you once again, for the 100th time.
I know what it's like to get insanely jealous. Because deep down you're positive you aren't good enough and when they figure it out, oh boy, they'll be out the door.
I know what it's like to feel like you're not worth much at all. To feel like you weren't worth chasing after. You weren't worth the trouble of keeping.
I know what it's like to feel like your friends deserve a better friend. Or found a better friend. You can't blame them, you aren't much fun anymore and you just seem sad all the time. And you don't really want to go out anymore because then people will see you and if they can see you, they can judge you and you just can't really handle that right now.
I know what it's like to wonder if you'll always be alone. To feel like it's somehow your fault that you're alone. I know what it's like to cling on a little too tightly to someone because inside you're screaming, "Please don't leave me. DON'T LEAVE ME. I can't be alone."
I know what it feels like. I know what it all feels like. And I wish I could make things easier for you.
I wish I could show you how amazing you are, how strong you are.
I
wish I could gather up all the people who see beauty in you, who
respect and admire you just to show you that those people really do
exist.
I wish I could point out your greatness to you
and make you realize how insignificant your "biggest flaws" really are.
Because I barely notice them, I only see good.
I wish,
just for a moment, I could give you an outside perspective from the eyes
of someone that loves you. So even just for 5 minutes you could feel
the way you make others feel when they are near you.
I
wish I could share with you what it's like to have memories of you that
replay during random times. The stifled laughter that gets strange looks
at the grocery store because something reminds me of you. Or seeing
something that makes me think, "Oh my gosh. They would love this!"
A
random tag on Facebook that says so much more than just the words or
the picture on the screen. It says, "I'm thinking about you" "This reminds me of you" Or "I know you'll find something
in this as I did."
I wish I could show you what you mean to me and everyone else.
But until the day you can see these things on your own, I promise to do what I can to show you what you mean to me. Because whether you believe it or not, you're worth it.
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
Thursday, August 10, 2017
The Time I Tried Selling My Used Panties
So I woke up this morning and thought to myself, "I'm sick of working everyday of the week" and suddenly I had a brilliant idea. I decided that I was going to start selling my dirty panties online. I watched Orange is the New Black, I know the basic concept. I just wear a pair of underwear around for a couple days, take a couple pictures and boom! Money in my pocket. The more I thought about it, the more plausible the idea sounded. Before 8am I have a fucking solid business plan. See below.
So I'm super pumped and like, "Hell yes. I'm about to sell the shit out of my dirty ass panties!" I mean I had it all figured out. I could buy up a bunch of underwear at my retail job when they are on sale, get my employee discount so the overhead would be low. I wanted my business to be customer friendly of course, each buyer would have several options. Color, style, length of wear, etc. I wasn't real excited about taking pictures of myself in them but then I remembered I got some mad talent when it comes to camera angles and lighting. I was like, "I totally got this!"
And though I was fully confident in the above business plan, I had to do a little more research. So I start searching, 'selling used underwear'. I'm looking and getting some answers and info. I'll need a PO Box so I don't get stalked and murdered, turn off your phone's location to take pictures so they can't track you down, don't take pictures that show identifying marks unless you want everyone finding out about it. Sounds good! I'm actually doing this I guess. So then I find a link to a site that has a section where some of this panty selling goes down. Ok, more research couldn't hurt.....
Yeah......I'm clearly at a disadvantage. In all of the excitement, I failed to considered the fact that I am not a hot, skinny, tanned, 20 something college babe. I am an overweight, 31 year old, sad person with an extremely uneven tan. I mean, I'm sure there is some niche market somewhere I'm probably overlooking but just reading the descriptions some of these girls wrote up.....I mean I have daddy issues but not THOSE many daddy issues. Seriously:
[Selling] VERY dirty and super old white cotton
thong with SKAT marks 💩💩💩
(yes..she put three poop emojis)
.............................😐
It was about then I decided to stick with what I know best...working my normal, non-pornographic jobs and telling myself that I'll someday write a book. So that's my story about "The time I thought about and almost tried selling my dirty panties online before I realized that those girls need some serious counseling but more importantly are way better looking than I am".
Wednesday, August 2, 2017
Relationships With BPD - Part 1
The other day a Facebook page I follow, that acts like a support page for people who have been in abusive relationships, posted something somewhat negative about "borderlines" or people who have BPD. I took to the comments section to give my perspective on what it's like being in a relationship while having BPD and this is what I said:
"Please understand that nothing we do is intentional. No one except another borderline will ever understand how difficult it is to get through each day with this disorder. The anger, the immediate guilt afterwards, the following self hate. We cannot regulate our emotions, we will never be able to regulate our emotions. We HAVE to rely on coping skills and it is exhausting. Every day is feeling every emotion, and every emotion hits us so strong and last so much longer. Imagine every time you feel sad, it feels like the saddest you've ever been and you just want to die and end the pain. Every time you feel anger, its like a rage that completely consumes you, every time you feel love it is euphoric. It's a love that fills you completely, to a point you never thought possible. But you're terrified because eventually.....they will realize you are worthless. You are trash. They will find someone better than you and they will leave you, taking your heart with them. You get paranoid, you need constant reassurance because its too hard to believe that someone as great as them could ever love you, you're nothing. You are replaceable. Everyone will leave you because you aren't good enough. You will never be good enough.
You get jealous easily because you're so insecure. Over the littlest things because to you, nothing is without intention. There is deeper meaning in everything. Who is she? Why did he like her Facebook photo? What does she have that I don't? Why is she better than me? Why didn't he like my Facebook photo? Is he embarrassed of me? Does he not want people to know he loves me? Does he love me? That person you love, the one you are so obsessed with, the one you would literally die for, does something that hurts you. And that hurt cuts down into your soul and it hurts more than you've ever hurt. Why am I not good enough? Why can't I be thinner? Prettier? Please what can I do? Please I want to be perfect for you! And suddenly....you split.
We don't see the world like everyone else, it's black and white to us. So either everything is good or everything is bad, so this perfect person is now bad. And you don't want to hate them but you do. You try so hard to remind yourself "No you love him, remember how he made you feel just days ago." But it's impossible. The feelings are too overwhelming. You begin to hate that person, when you look at them it makes you sick. You want them to hurt the way they hurt you so they can know what they've done. So you try, forgetting that they will never understand how bad it hurts, because their brain doesn't work like that. They don't feel those intense emotions like you do. But you still try. You say terrible things, the most hurtful things you can think of and you try to stop yourself but it flows like venom. Maybe it doesn't work, they aren't hurt enough, and you get violent. Things get broken, things get physical. Then a few moments or hours or days or weeks pass, you never know how long it might last, and that hate turns onto yourself. You are a fucking psycho. You are too much work. You will be alone forever. No one will ever love you enough to deal with this shit. You are a fuck up. You don't deserve to be happy. You don't deserve to feel love. You will ruin everyone's life you come in contact with. The best thing you can do for yourself and everyone else is just kill yourself. Just do it. They might be sad for awhile but they'll get over it. Life will actually be easier for them without having to deal with your constant emotions and drama. Just fucking kill yourself. You don't deserve to live. No one cares about you. Just do it, please!!!
Then a switch flips. You look at him, his smile, his eyes. The way he laughs, the way he holds you. You look at him and the butterflies come back. He's so perfect. How could you every have thought otherwise. Yes, he said mean things to you, maybe hit you a couple of times but you deserved it. You know you did. It takes a lot to put up with you, so you owe him. I love you, please don't leave me! I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. Whatever he asks, you do. You don't have the money but you have credit cards, buy him things so he knows you love him. You must be available for anything, at all times. Let him do whatever he wants with your body, you owe him that. Even when you don't want to, which is rare because at least if you are being used for sex it means someone wants you for something. You're worth something for a moment. At least you're worth a fuck. And the cycle starts again.
I hate the way I am. I hate that my brain know exactly what's happening but my emotions have the control. I hate the constant internal war. When you're brain is telling you two competing ideas at once. "You're worthless, no you're not that's just the BPD talking. Yes but BPD is what you are therefore you are worthless. No one loves you, yes they do, are you sure? I think so.... Then why haven't they called." Every day is a struggle. I'm sorry, I wish I was different."
Seems pretty dramatic right? Unfortunately for 1% of the population this is their reality. This is the constant in our lives. And it sucks, it really does. It's completely exhausting for us and it's not a surprise that our interpersonal relationships suffer like they do. Honestly I wouldn't blame someone for not wanting to be in a relationship with someone with BPD, it can be extremely hard at times. "When things are good, they are great. They are amazing. But when things are bad, they are terrible." This is something I've been told many times and sums it up pretty well. Sadly, this is just brief overview, there is much more. Part two to come soon.
"Please understand that nothing we do is intentional. No one except another borderline will ever understand how difficult it is to get through each day with this disorder. The anger, the immediate guilt afterwards, the following self hate. We cannot regulate our emotions, we will never be able to regulate our emotions. We HAVE to rely on coping skills and it is exhausting. Every day is feeling every emotion, and every emotion hits us so strong and last so much longer. Imagine every time you feel sad, it feels like the saddest you've ever been and you just want to die and end the pain. Every time you feel anger, its like a rage that completely consumes you, every time you feel love it is euphoric. It's a love that fills you completely, to a point you never thought possible. But you're terrified because eventually.....they will realize you are worthless. You are trash. They will find someone better than you and they will leave you, taking your heart with them. You get paranoid, you need constant reassurance because its too hard to believe that someone as great as them could ever love you, you're nothing. You are replaceable. Everyone will leave you because you aren't good enough. You will never be good enough.
You get jealous easily because you're so insecure. Over the littlest things because to you, nothing is without intention. There is deeper meaning in everything. Who is she? Why did he like her Facebook photo? What does she have that I don't? Why is she better than me? Why didn't he like my Facebook photo? Is he embarrassed of me? Does he not want people to know he loves me? Does he love me? That person you love, the one you are so obsessed with, the one you would literally die for, does something that hurts you. And that hurt cuts down into your soul and it hurts more than you've ever hurt. Why am I not good enough? Why can't I be thinner? Prettier? Please what can I do? Please I want to be perfect for you! And suddenly....you split.
We don't see the world like everyone else, it's black and white to us. So either everything is good or everything is bad, so this perfect person is now bad. And you don't want to hate them but you do. You try so hard to remind yourself "No you love him, remember how he made you feel just days ago." But it's impossible. The feelings are too overwhelming. You begin to hate that person, when you look at them it makes you sick. You want them to hurt the way they hurt you so they can know what they've done. So you try, forgetting that they will never understand how bad it hurts, because their brain doesn't work like that. They don't feel those intense emotions like you do. But you still try. You say terrible things, the most hurtful things you can think of and you try to stop yourself but it flows like venom. Maybe it doesn't work, they aren't hurt enough, and you get violent. Things get broken, things get physical. Then a few moments or hours or days or weeks pass, you never know how long it might last, and that hate turns onto yourself. You are a fucking psycho. You are too much work. You will be alone forever. No one will ever love you enough to deal with this shit. You are a fuck up. You don't deserve to be happy. You don't deserve to feel love. You will ruin everyone's life you come in contact with. The best thing you can do for yourself and everyone else is just kill yourself. Just do it. They might be sad for awhile but they'll get over it. Life will actually be easier for them without having to deal with your constant emotions and drama. Just fucking kill yourself. You don't deserve to live. No one cares about you. Just do it, please!!!
Then a switch flips. You look at him, his smile, his eyes. The way he laughs, the way he holds you. You look at him and the butterflies come back. He's so perfect. How could you every have thought otherwise. Yes, he said mean things to you, maybe hit you a couple of times but you deserved it. You know you did. It takes a lot to put up with you, so you owe him. I love you, please don't leave me! I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. Whatever he asks, you do. You don't have the money but you have credit cards, buy him things so he knows you love him. You must be available for anything, at all times. Let him do whatever he wants with your body, you owe him that. Even when you don't want to, which is rare because at least if you are being used for sex it means someone wants you for something. You're worth something for a moment. At least you're worth a fuck. And the cycle starts again.
I hate the way I am. I hate that my brain know exactly what's happening but my emotions have the control. I hate the constant internal war. When you're brain is telling you two competing ideas at once. "You're worthless, no you're not that's just the BPD talking. Yes but BPD is what you are therefore you are worthless. No one loves you, yes they do, are you sure? I think so.... Then why haven't they called." Every day is a struggle. I'm sorry, I wish I was different."
Seems pretty dramatic right? Unfortunately for 1% of the population this is their reality. This is the constant in our lives. And it sucks, it really does. It's completely exhausting for us and it's not a surprise that our interpersonal relationships suffer like they do. Honestly I wouldn't blame someone for not wanting to be in a relationship with someone with BPD, it can be extremely hard at times. "When things are good, they are great. They are amazing. But when things are bad, they are terrible." This is something I've been told many times and sums it up pretty well. Sadly, this is just brief overview, there is much more. Part two to come soon.
Thursday, July 13, 2017
My Biggest Flaw
You know when you're in an interview and they ask you "What would you say is your biggest weakness?" and you have some bullshit answer already planned like, "I would say.....my biggest weakness......is that I'm too organized." I mean come on, pretty much everyone answers that question with a carefully worded compliment to themselves. No one is like, "My biggest weakness.....would have to be........meth. Yep. Definitely meth. Can't get enough of it. I just fucking love meth!" Or "I literally do like two hours of work and then spend the rest of my day on Facebook." Or "I'm habitually late, I call in sick a lot and my house looks like a bunch of raccoons have been squatting there for the last three years." No, it's always something good. So that's what I'm about to do here. I'm going to pretend that my nail biting, bad temper, tend to over react and all the other 100 things I do don't exist and tell you about what I feel is my biggest flaw.
I have a tendency, for the most part, to try to see the good in people. Even after I've been taken advantage of, been treated poorly, yada yada yada. I feel that although people are responsible for their own actions, it's still important to realize that the reason they do the things they do can be traced back to something that happened to them in the past which in turn altered how they react to things. And people do change, although it sometimes takes a lot of work on their part, people can and do change if they really want to. Or if something is important enough to them.
I'll be the first to admit this is a very stupid way of thinking. You're putting yourself directly in the cross hairs for disappointment, hurt, guilt, a whole bunch of shitty emotions that you've probably already felt before. So why do it? I guess because as much as I feel I have fucked up in my life, people should still be given a chance at redemption.
As human beings, the potential each one of us holds is outstanding. We all have the ability to do great things with our lives but sometimes you need an extra push. It seems as though a lot of the time, people just don't get the support they need. Maybe if they had someone rooting for them it would change their thinking and plant that idea of "Hey. Maybe I can do this."
In closing, be supportive. Encourage those in your life to succeed. Do what you can to help them heal and become better people. But don't get carried away. My niece is probably mentally scared for life thanks to me insisting I train her to be an Olympic gymnast. I'm beginning to think that screaming at her in Ukrainian from ages 4 to 5 and giving her a nightly workout routine to get them gainz may have been slightly unreasonable. Or she's just a quitter and quitters never win. Just saying.
I have a tendency, for the most part, to try to see the good in people. Even after I've been taken advantage of, been treated poorly, yada yada yada. I feel that although people are responsible for their own actions, it's still important to realize that the reason they do the things they do can be traced back to something that happened to them in the past which in turn altered how they react to things. And people do change, although it sometimes takes a lot of work on their part, people can and do change if they really want to. Or if something is important enough to them.
I'll be the first to admit this is a very stupid way of thinking. You're putting yourself directly in the cross hairs for disappointment, hurt, guilt, a whole bunch of shitty emotions that you've probably already felt before. So why do it? I guess because as much as I feel I have fucked up in my life, people should still be given a chance at redemption.
As human beings, the potential each one of us holds is outstanding. We all have the ability to do great things with our lives but sometimes you need an extra push. It seems as though a lot of the time, people just don't get the support they need. Maybe if they had someone rooting for them it would change their thinking and plant that idea of "Hey. Maybe I can do this."
In closing, be supportive. Encourage those in your life to succeed. Do what you can to help them heal and become better people. But don't get carried away. My niece is probably mentally scared for life thanks to me insisting I train her to be an Olympic gymnast. I'm beginning to think that screaming at her in Ukrainian from ages 4 to 5 and giving her a nightly workout routine to get them gainz may have been slightly unreasonable. Or she's just a quitter and quitters never win. Just saying.
Wednesday, June 7, 2017
The Best Intentions
Hi. It's me. I'm not missing or dead or abandoning this blog, I've just
been depressed and completely lost interest in it. Sad, right? Maybe
I've become hypercritical of myself, maybe I'm letting negative people
get in my head. I feel like I have to defend myself, I don't write this
shit for attention, I do it because I fucking love to write and I want
to share my love of writing with other people. I want to use my words to
make others laugh and smile or maybe not feel so god damn alone in
their struggles. I don't care how many shares or likes this gets, I just
do it because it's a part of who I am and what makes me happy. That
being said, here is a blog post about stuff.
So yesterday was the start of the summer reading program at the library I work at. We had a whole bunch of kids in to sign up for reading logs, get event schedules, etc. One family in particular stood out due to their very adorable son named Gio. Today they family came in again and I greeted them with a big smile and hello. As I wandered around the children's reading area I stopped to talk to Gio's mom. That's when things turned south....
So yesterday was the start of the summer reading program at the library I work at. We had a whole bunch of kids in to sign up for reading logs, get event schedules, etc. One family in particular stood out due to their very adorable son named Gio. Today they family came in again and I greeted them with a big smile and hello. As I wandered around the children's reading area I stopped to talk to Gio's mom. That's when things turned south....
Me- Hi! I have to tell you, a coworker and I fought over your son Gio last night.
Mom- *horrified look* What?! Why?!
Me- oh no! Not like that! We just think he is adorable and argued about who likes him more...
Mom- *horrified look* What?! Why?!
Me- oh no! Not like that! We just think he is adorable and argued about who likes him more...
Mom- *uneasy shifting in chair* Oh...ok...
Me- "Yeah, we definitely want to keep him!"
Mom- *a little shookth* Ummm...
Me- "Not in a weird way..I just mean if he ever goes missing you know it was one of us!"
Mom - *rehorrified* ........
Me- ........
Me- I want to steal your child and raise him as my own...
They left about 5 minutes later. I would really like to say it was a case of "lost in translation" due to English not being her first language but thinking back on the conversation, I did come off as a little creepy. And that's how I ended up on a government watch list.
Thursday, February 2, 2017
Alone Time
I love my cats, I really do. They are great. Everyday I get home they greet me at the door, they always seem to know when I'm sad and need some kitten love, they make me laugh with their antics constantly, except for the occasional flying claws out sneak attack they are the best roommates I've ever had. Well, the attacks and one other thing.
The problem with animals is they don't give a fuck when it comes to personal space or more specifically, personal time. And as much as I try to explain to them that mom needs some time alone to do, ahem, alone things they don't seem to understand.
"Ok guys, we need to talk about last night. Though I appreciate that you wanted to hang out, it makes me very uncomfortable when I'm trying to, errr, alleviate stress and you decide to walk all over me or start batting at the blankets or meow directly into my face. I understand some of this is my fault for not locking you out of the room but sometimes things just happen spur of the moment. Anyways I hope you can understand where I'm coming from. I mean I let you guys go down to the basement and do your weird yowling thing without bugging you so I don't think it's much to ask that you not bother me while I'm doing my thing. Sooo we cool?"
They weren't really picking up what I putting down, so I tried to be a little more straight forward.
"I feel like you guys aren't getting it. Woman and men sometimes have needs and urges and sometimes when we are alone we decide to act on those urges. It's nothing to be ashamed about, lots of people do it but when I catch you looking at me with your judgemental stares, it really kills the mood and makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong. So if you could, during that time, possibly go find something else to do I would really appreciate it...."
Still they just stared at me
"Stop watching me masturbate."
The problem with animals is they don't give a fuck when it comes to personal space or more specifically, personal time. And as much as I try to explain to them that mom needs some time alone to do, ahem, alone things they don't seem to understand.
"Ok guys, we need to talk about last night. Though I appreciate that you wanted to hang out, it makes me very uncomfortable when I'm trying to, errr, alleviate stress and you decide to walk all over me or start batting at the blankets or meow directly into my face. I understand some of this is my fault for not locking you out of the room but sometimes things just happen spur of the moment. Anyways I hope you can understand where I'm coming from. I mean I let you guys go down to the basement and do your weird yowling thing without bugging you so I don't think it's much to ask that you not bother me while I'm doing my thing. Sooo we cool?"
They weren't really picking up what I putting down, so I tried to be a little more straight forward.
"I feel like you guys aren't getting it. Woman and men sometimes have needs and urges and sometimes when we are alone we decide to act on those urges. It's nothing to be ashamed about, lots of people do it but when I catch you looking at me with your judgemental stares, it really kills the mood and makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong. So if you could, during that time, possibly go find something else to do I would really appreciate it...."
Still they just stared at me
"Stop watching me masturbate."
Friday, January 20, 2017
Tall Girl
Someone called me "tall girl" about 34 months ago, so I started writing this and never finished. I don't believe in time, tis but an illusion. Anyways back to the point, I'm ok with Tall Girl, it's much better than giant which I've been called a lot. And a whole lot better than the other things I've been called in my life. I'm not always well received...
I'm tall. Not THAT tall but yeah I'm nearly a half foot taller than the "average" for women in the US. Someday I'll lose another 30 or so pound and then I'll be tall and skinny and I'm sure life will be perfect....har har har.
One good thing about my height is when people are being jerks, especially when I'm at work, I can nonchalantly get up and walk past them after they just chewed me out. I must not look that tall while sitting because they usually change their tone. 'Uh..well..uh..." Or when someone is trying to intimidate one of my co-workers, I can saunter up and with my man voice ask "What seems to be the problem here?" Does it actually work? I dunno. Is it actually my prison face tattoo and baritone voice that is intimidating? Could be. Are they just so focused on trying to not make eye contact with my no soul, Teletubby like stare that they have forgotten what they are complaining about because I'm so creepy? It's a good possibility.
Also the long legs come in handy...for running from bears, as in highway patrol...I'm guessing. I have the non-running edition but I can take several stairs at a time, which is cool. I also decided after years of complaining about how "I'm not allowed to wear heels" "Who says that?" "They" "They who?" "Ummm....society?" I can in fact wear whatever I want on my feet and screw people if they have an issue with it. Maybe they should have thought about that before they stopped growing. So I've been wearing heels lately....good story right?
Like I don't mind being tall and Amazon like but it definitely has it's draw backs. I'm never going to get to be one of those girls who gets picked up and carried off during a hug like those petite, super feminine little things. Unless the other person is super tall and strong. Sometimes tall people don't look like they weigh that much but trust me, it's just spread out more. I am pretty freaking solid. Even my doctor the other day looked at my chart and said, "Huh..obesity. You don't look obese at all." I assure you, I am. Brick fucking house. Maybe she was just being nice because she was about to give me my annual vagina examination, who knows but it was nice to hear.
I've accepted I'll never get to be lifted and pushed up against a wall in the throes of passion but I have other attributes. Need a couch moved? I'm there! Something off the top shelf? Definitely! Perhaps I can help you hang this portrait or help you paint! I'm super good at cleaning gutters or dusting fan blades. You know what's really sexy? Usefulness. I'm kind of like a good table, I'm solid and sturdy. And there's nothing wrong with that.
I'm tall. Not THAT tall but yeah I'm nearly a half foot taller than the "average" for women in the US. Someday I'll lose another 30 or so pound and then I'll be tall and skinny and I'm sure life will be perfect....har har har.
One good thing about my height is when people are being jerks, especially when I'm at work, I can nonchalantly get up and walk past them after they just chewed me out. I must not look that tall while sitting because they usually change their tone. 'Uh..well..uh..." Or when someone is trying to intimidate one of my co-workers, I can saunter up and with my man voice ask "What seems to be the problem here?" Does it actually work? I dunno. Is it actually my prison face tattoo and baritone voice that is intimidating? Could be. Are they just so focused on trying to not make eye contact with my no soul, Teletubby like stare that they have forgotten what they are complaining about because I'm so creepy? It's a good possibility.
Also the long legs come in handy...for running from bears, as in highway patrol...I'm guessing. I have the non-running edition but I can take several stairs at a time, which is cool. I also decided after years of complaining about how "I'm not allowed to wear heels" "Who says that?" "They" "They who?" "Ummm....society?" I can in fact wear whatever I want on my feet and screw people if they have an issue with it. Maybe they should have thought about that before they stopped growing. So I've been wearing heels lately....good story right?
Like I don't mind being tall and Amazon like but it definitely has it's draw backs. I'm never going to get to be one of those girls who gets picked up and carried off during a hug like those petite, super feminine little things. Unless the other person is super tall and strong. Sometimes tall people don't look like they weigh that much but trust me, it's just spread out more. I am pretty freaking solid. Even my doctor the other day looked at my chart and said, "Huh..obesity. You don't look obese at all." I assure you, I am. Brick fucking house. Maybe she was just being nice because she was about to give me my annual vagina examination, who knows but it was nice to hear.
I've accepted I'll never get to be lifted and pushed up against a wall in the throes of passion but I have other attributes. Need a couch moved? I'm there! Something off the top shelf? Definitely! Perhaps I can help you hang this portrait or help you paint! I'm super good at cleaning gutters or dusting fan blades. You know what's really sexy? Usefulness. I'm kind of like a good table, I'm solid and sturdy. And there's nothing wrong with that.
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