2002-07-10 - 5:23 p.m.
I had a dream where I was trying to serve former-melty-hair-boy but he kept looking right past me.
I got my multiaccess card from the bank but they haven't sent me my PIN yet. I look at the shiny new card which is currently impotent and feel somehow related to it.
And more than the card/owner connection. Sighysigh.
I'm having too much trouble looking after the skin I've landed in and this makes me wonder why I'm in it and what I'm really meant to be.
I go through the hundreds of tiny features that make up my body in my head and I can think of only one lacking serious faults.
One. And the rest require hours upon hours of being looked after, or at least hidden. And I've never been that great at hiding or looking after, so...
Just so sick and tired of the constant cleansing, exfoliating, moisturising, tweezing, waxing, brushing, washing, blowdrying, shaping, styling that goes on, none of it ever doing any good but when I give up and stop it gets worse somehow.
And I know I sound like just another girl whining about little flaws but it's more than that, more than I can ever make anyone understand...
I will never be able to stand tall.
More sighs. I have to go inside and moisturise excessively now. Will leave you with excerpt from the book I'm reading, Carnevale just because it makes me laugh... if semi-subtle sexual metaphors make you squirm (and not giggle, like me) I recommend that you pretend this is the end ... now.
"... You used no ugly words for the private parts of our bodies ... Your particular part was a little fellow, a masked parsonage (in his Overcoat), a sliver of lightening, but most often of all, your steed. When you were with us you wanted to spread the columns apart, and then devour love's chamber. When you entered us it was to perform the gentle sacrifice, or pay respects, but most of all, to give the most ardent proof of affection. Your tumescent steed was the most honest compliment you could give us..."
I got my multiaccess card from the bank but they haven't sent me my PIN yet. I look at the shiny new card which is currently impotent and feel somehow related to it.
And more than the card/owner connection. Sighysigh.
I'm having too much trouble looking after the skin I've landed in and this makes me wonder why I'm in it and what I'm really meant to be.
I go through the hundreds of tiny features that make up my body in my head and I can think of only one lacking serious faults.
One. And the rest require hours upon hours of being looked after, or at least hidden. And I've never been that great at hiding or looking after, so...
Just so sick and tired of the constant cleansing, exfoliating, moisturising, tweezing, waxing, brushing, washing, blowdrying, shaping, styling that goes on, none of it ever doing any good but when I give up and stop it gets worse somehow.
And I know I sound like just another girl whining about little flaws but it's more than that, more than I can ever make anyone understand...
I will never be able to stand tall.
More sighs. I have to go inside and moisturise excessively now. Will leave you with excerpt from the book I'm reading, Carnevale just because it makes me laugh... if semi-subtle sexual metaphors make you squirm (and not giggle, like me) I recommend that you pretend this is the end ... now.
"... You used no ugly words for the private parts of our bodies ... Your particular part was a little fellow, a masked parsonage (in his Overcoat), a sliver of lightening, but most often of all, your steed. When you were with us you wanted to spread the columns apart, and then devour love's chamber. When you entered us it was to perform the gentle sacrifice, or pay respects, but most of all, to give the most ardent proof of affection. Your tumescent steed was the most honest compliment you could give us..."
