Sunday, April 29, 2007

it's not vanity, it's reality

in my quest to be more selfish, i 've been thinking alot about myself.
and i came to realize that my body is always at the forefront of my mind.

i never quite feel satisfied with the way i look, how much i weigh, etc.
maybe if i fixed my body, i would feel better.
from the outside, seeping into the inside.

i know that's not how things are supposed to work, but whether i like it or not
i wil never feel one hundred percent until i lose some weight.

my goal is not to weigh 80 pounds or anything drastic.
if i could just get back to 150 i would feel so much better.
i would look the way i want to. not the way anyone else wants me to.

it's not like i'm huge or anything.
unless you classify weighing over 150 as huge, and then, i'm gigantic.
and by alot of people's standards, i'm fairly attractive.
not supermodelly, but pretty.
and (this may sound vain but...) i agree with them.
i have a nice face.
it's just my body i'm worried about.
and no matter how many times people say that
"oh i love curves"
"more cushion for the pushin'"
or whatever they say
i know i won't be happy until i reach a weight and look that is suitable
for me, and my own tastes.

and that's not vanity, it's reality.
MY reality.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

you're a queen, sister

since wednesday, i've been going to therapy.
i know it's only saturday but seriously, i've gone everyday. for two hours.

just talking.
me and my therapist.

my zaftig, Nubian Princess-esque therapist.

our first meeting, i was sitting in the chair tired, dazed and confused.
i always thought it would be easy for me, to just sit there and talk about myself
since that is what i've always wanted to do but instead, i sat there. saying nothing.

so we started with writing.

"write what you feel"

she gave me a pen. so i wrote. and wrote. and kept writing.
i ran out of paper.

she stopped me, and read what i wrote.
as she was reading her eyebrow raised considerably and for whatever reason, i felt like i had
done something wrong. i must have turned red and radiated heat in her direction, because she lifted a
hand to silence me before i had said anything.

"it's good."

i didn't say anything. still silent.
maybe i shouldn't? maybe i could just keep coming here, and listen to her soothing voice and have her
heal me without having to help her.
sit and be healed.

things don't work that way, as it turns out.

"now you need to say it" she said.

"i can't"

"you can't talk? you just did!"

so i muttered, stammered, contradicted, lied, apologized for lying, double talked, looped, weeped, yelled, paced, cussed, smoked and finally...
after two hours, she said
"there is something i want you to know, young lady"

i stood silent, again feeling like i had done something wrong.

"you're a queen, sister"
and then
"maybe you're too young to be a queen. how does princess sound to you?"

i asked, laughing
"can i be a queen like you when i grow up?"

and she said
"you can be whatever you want to be, whenever you want to be. didn't anyone ever tell you that?"

i shook my head no. they hadn't. no one had.

" you know."

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Alec Baldwin and I should have babies

Today I was in the living room watching TV, when my grandma came in hemming and hawing about something or other. Usually I don't ask but she was being so vocal about it that it was getting on my nerves.

"What exactly is your problem?" I inquired.

She put her hand on her hip and said "I'm so over this Alec Baldwin thing. What did he say that was so bad?"

And for the first time ever in my life, I agreed with her.

Maybe it's just the way I was raised, but the whole "tirade" seemed pretty tame to me. It's not like he threatened to beat the shit out of the kid, all he said was that she needed to be straightened out.
In my experience, this is true for alot of kids...I can only imagine how it would be for a kid going through the drama of having Kim Basinger and Alec Baldwin as parents. Poor kid probably never has peace and quiet BUT that's not an excuse to act out.

When I was living with my mom, brother and stepdad in a one room apartment with hardly any food you bet your ass I wanted to lip off, lash out, and just generally tear everything and everyone to bits.
But did i? No.
Because I would have gotten my ass handed to me, that's why.

Sometimes I think that spanking and speaking harshly to your children isn't such a good thing, but you have to prepare them for what they are going to encounter in the real world.
Yes, that's where we live people. The real world. This isn't Candyland and there aren't unicorns prancing around my apartment as I type this.

Kids these days, have a sense of entitlement that is, in my opinion, disgusting. They expect things to be handed to them. They expect to be rewarded whether their behavior warrants a reward or not.
Maybe if more people took an old school approach to raising their kids, we wouldn't have so many foul mouthed, rude little punks running around making life miserable for everyone around them, including their parents.
There are things called discipline and respect. Better to learn it sooner than later.

Moral of the story:
You go boy! *three snaps in z formation
You show that daughter of yours what a good old fashioned Irish/Catholic upbringing is all about!

And before you say I do not advocate beating your kids. Spanking and beating are two different things. Don't even get me started on that!