Is it so Wrong?

Am I wrong to wish I were as beautiful on the outside as I am on the inside? Am I vain and superficial for wanting the image in the mirror to match the image in my head? It's entirely depressing to get up every morning and look at myself in the mirror and think "Well, shit... that's not what I expected to see at all." And why can't I get my appearance through my head? It shocks me every morning without fail... "shit, do I really look like that? That's not at all what I expected to see."

I was out shopping with my sister yesterday, and she picked out a size 20 for me to try on. I have never worn more than a size 18. Do I really look that fat?

Now, I am the thinnest of my sisters. My mother only eclipses me in thinness because she mal-nourishes herself, choosing to live on Weight Watchers chicken enchiladas, canned peaches and vodka. And her brand of thin is old papery skin clinging to old, fragile bones sort. I never want to look that fragile.

But I want to look like the little sexy devil that I feel like. I do I do. Is that wrong?

I've been contemplating the use of makeup as my face looks more and more tired, the dark circles under my eyes getting darker, and gaining a puffiness which seems to be a symptom of my as yet unmedicated thyroid condition.

Why can't I be thin? I've tried, god, I've tried for years. And even now, I only eat generally one meal a day, and walk to work every single effing day. I don't overeat. I'm not exactly a couch potato... my job requires eight hours of standing and walking behaviors. It's not aerobic, but it ought to burn some damn calories.

I know my metabolism will improve when I get back on my medication. Hell, last time I grew two inches and lost approx. forty lbs. And dammit, if I had a VCR and an exercise tape, I could do it, I could exercise in the privacy of my own home. I know I could. I used to jog before my athsma got bad and my breasts got so big. I could I could. But would it help?

Why can't I be thin? And, if I can't be thin, why can't I just be gorgeous and sexy as I am? Why do people want so damn much from me?

Things I Hate About People.

"Everywhere I go there's someone in a trenchcoat staring at me..."

What's the point in knowing anyone? People are just really living trash for the most part... they make almost no effort at introspection or self-knowledge... they never seem to question their actions or reactions. They just float numbly-bumbly-dumbly through life, scrabbling to make so much money, to gain this much social acceptance... how can you trust a creature like that? And intelligent animal that by-and-large wastes it's intelligence?

"When I'm not at home I'm sure someone's rummaging through my trash.."

And it's not like loyalty really means anything... everyone's out for number one, except possibly me. But, of course, I'm rewarded by having to care about people that don't give a shit about me. I really wish I could not care about Tina, not care about Jamie, and not care about so many others whose names I choose not to mention, as they're enough to send me into a night-long funk. WHY? Why do I care about these people? It's some cruel fucking joke, I'll tell you that. All this loving-caring CRAP wasted on people who won't ever return it. Arrgh.

"Whatever could they want from me?"

And even apart from interpersonal relationships, I have the absolute worst luck out of anyone I know. Any hard work I do is met with faliure, humiliation, or both. I'm sure that whoever is pulling the switches up there is having a good fucking hard laugh at my expense. Well, laugh it up. I've lived out one third of my lifespan already, you bastards... don't have alot of time left. Better start preemptively scheduling some faliure for Allison, you sons of bitches. Of course with my luck, I'll wind up being the un-luckiest 107 year old ever to live. I'm the original bad news bear. It's enough to make me give up and go live in an alley and just wait for death.

"Is it just a part of a giant government conspiracy?"

Of course, there's really no point in that either, is there? Because I'd only have alot more bad luck and misery there. Except I wouldn't be putting out any effort, so there would be no efforts to ridicule. Small comfort, that. Some people have everything and bitch and fucking moan like they're the sorriest thing ever to live. Fuck them. Especially a certain highschool student in Carmel, Indiana, Goddammit. You have EVERYTHING. Leave the bitching and moaning to those of us who really ARE lonely and who really ARE unnatractive, ferchrissakes. Don't take that away from us ugly people.

"I've got to go see my doctor about this itchy pentagram-shaped rash..."

I mean, she's got medical coverage through her parents, more pussy/cock than I've seen in my entire life, hordes of friends, food, a roof and heat in the winter! And all she has to do is go to fucking highschool, which we all know isn't that hard. Annoying, yes, but not difficult by any stretch of the imagination. What's more, she's actually got TALENT, something I'd give my fucking eyeteeth for. All I've got talent for is being a "good person", which, more often than not, gets me completely screwed over and is something of a ripoff anyway. They tell you that's what's important when you're young. Well, I'm a good person! Where's my reward, if that's what's really important??

"Everybody open your mouth..."

I mean, for crying out loud, this "good person" is freezing her ass off because she has to make ends meet on $600.00 a month, and she can't turn on the damn heat because she can't pay her electric bill as it fucking stands! If this is what happens to "good people" then let me be bad and warm instead. I'm so sick of suffering just because it's "what's best" or what other people "want". What about what I fucking want? When do I get to stand up for myself and say enoug is enough? When do I earn that right for my "good person" status? Huh? The bad people are so much better off.
"Everybody Just say Ahh..."

And even though they're better off, they're still bastards and have to make my life hard! Why? You've already succeeded! There's no longer any need to be a bastard. Just fuck off with your five cars and big suburban house and leave this little rat alone. All I want is to find a way to be healthy and happy and wealthy enough to not be living from paycheck to paycheck. That isn't wrong. It's not alot for a genius to expect for her effort either. That's right, I said genius! An IQ of 159 and I'm working in a goddamn convenience store!

"Everything will be alright..."

But intelligence is another one of those things that isn't really rewarded, isn't it? All my working career, I've been "supervised" (read: alternately harassed and abused) by people of completely average intelligence. Now, I hate to come off as snobbish or elitist, and I know that's how I'm coming off, but the incongruity of this fact just strikes me as ridiculous! Most management positions can be filled by trained monkeys. That's right, I know because I'm being trained for management!

"This won't hurt at all."

They even asked me if I would be interested in managing my very own Plaid Pantry. I must admit, I've thought about it. Not as a career, God no, but you know, maybe as a step towards my career, and maybe for a laugh or two. But here's the really funny part: I'm completing my management training this week... and I've already applied for another job! So all that "training" (read: mindless dictation of duties and mathematical formulae) is going to go to waste. But wait! I heard today that they've lost my application! Maybe I'll be stuck here after all!

"Everybody get in line...
Everybody turn and cough...
Everything will be alright, if you just lay off.

Life is really ridiculous. It's one fucking huge comedy show. Who's laughing? I am, now that I've looked at it. Maybe I die tomorrow, and none of anything that I've done will matter. Maybe I'll die without having accomplished my goals. Wouldn't that be a fucking lark??

SONG!!!!!

I have a new favorite song! new new new! song song song!

Kitty Badass - "Chevy Impala".

Probably because my dream car is a '64 Chevy Impala in midnight blue with white seats. :::purrs:::

Chevy Impala

I feel compelled to share the joy of Chevy Impala. The song is available in MP3 format on Napster and at http://members.tripod.com/jeffccr/toonz.html

The song appears to be a kind of crappy concert bootleg, and isn't on One Cell at a Time, but it's worth a listen.