I Don't Understand the Present.: State of Affairs. Warning: May Offend

April 27, 2008

With impunity. This is how I kill ants. Spiders, not so much. Spiders are more important.

I haven't been worried enough lately. How's that? I feel like I haven't been worrying enough. What the fuck? I've felt too free. Seriously, how fucked up is that? Perhaps I am expressing it somehow. I'm sure Allen has noticed.

(Crazy downstairs neighbor Joe is on the sidewalk crying. "I love you," he says. Then, "go away" or was it "wait"? the new girlfriend yells. Then she turns and walks back to the house. Just before this, when they came out she said to him, "I thought I could be alone.")

Worry. It's my occupation. Also "quiet." I've been excessively quiet recently. A trait I have that causes uncertainty and worry in others. I simply haven't had much to say. Allen and I are together nearly 24 hours every single day. What could I possibly have to say about that? I've been inside my head. Thinking about that damn story, wondering if I should let someone read it, worrying about my lack of ideas.

Dinner with Chris and Jessica last Saturday. They both admit to having multiple ideas for stories but no follow through. I admit that I have had one idea and can't see past it. Just continue to expand, not even, continue to reread and make red marks on a goofy-ass story about a rich girl and a movie star. I try to put it in perspective but still, I feel ashamed. I guess it's because I'm smarter than the story. But so what? Why have I always viewed my intelligence as a curse? That's nonsense.

In other news, I've been eating better and feeling better but then my fingernails started peeling and I'm thrown into a panic about what's wrong with me. I suspect I haven't been eating enough but I don't know that that is true. My distinct lack of motion does not require much fuel. However, I have been thinking about running again. "I've always wanted to be a runner," I said out loud to Allen in the car yesterday. He told me I have a runner's body. I'm not sure what he meant by that but it was certainly complementary. Maybe next year.

I've been thinking about body image a lot this past week. A friend of mine is, I think, much more outwardly obsessed with this issue than I could ever hope to be. Despite everything people think about me I do often subscribe to an "it is what it is" mentality. For example, this friend and his hair. I've been cutting my own hair for years with mixed results, but it usually just always looks the same. It is what it is. He, however, seems seriously disturbed about his. If vanity would allow it I would love to shave it all off. But I won't because, listen to this, because I don't have a good wig. Anyway. And I'm 31 years old. My friend, who is almost the same age, continues to do curious things like dye his hair unnatural colours (blue?) and force it into unnatural shapes. I can't fathom it. Let it go. It's just hair. But hair is so important. It's a very noticeable thing. It affects your face and your idea of yourself. So it's really not just hair, it's identity. So I get it but I don't. Like body image. I think I'm not as big as I am. Always I think "I'm not that big," but I don't think it's true. Sure, people always think I weigh less than I do but I'm big. A big girl. And who wants to be the big girl? Who wants to be uncomfortable and worry about her multiple stomachs being on display for the world? Not me. Yet here they are. There's only so much disguising you can accomplish, the truth will shine, or blub, through. And what disturbs me is that people are okay with that. When I feel like I should be shunned and poked at. Yet I still get an I love you. So I snort in reply. Who could love a fat girl? Not me. Ah, honesty, how I love thee. I don't like fat people, okay? There, the truth is out. It's awkward. Not fitting in a booth is awkward. Yeah, it's natural for some people. Some people are naturally skinny, some fat. Yeah. But if things weren't so easy. If it were back in the day and we had a reason, an actual need, to be more active...what then? If society were once more agrarian would I be a blob [...]? Maybe, but probably not. No, I'd probably be popping out shit-eating spawn to continue a shit-eating legacy of anger and frustration.

I just realized that I probably sound like a crazy person. Then I thought about how Charles Manson wrote some decent music. And then I'm torn about what a woman can do, especially after watching a friends' football match today. He's on a pub team. Over 30's. No women allowed. And I know I would have mad skills if I ever bothered to develop them. And I'd be a sick striker. (So says me.) There are so many things I know I could be but I don't even think about trying. I mean these guys don't even move. And I know I can be off-putting at times because I know what's possible and if I really get into it I know I can be better than almost anyone. I have this weird competitive streak that sometimes frightens me because I know I'm stronger than most of you. It's like I know it but I also know I'm not supposed to be that way in our society so I sit back and watch things happen in disgust. Where does that come from?

(Also, the guy driving the lawn mower and golf cart today while drinking beer was telling his friends about how last night he and his wife were both really drunk. He ended up falling asleep in the car until 4:30am but his wife apparently was inside the house frying chicken at 2:30am. She ended up falling asleep while the chicken was still on the stove, setting off the the fire detectors and waking the children who had to rouse her from her drunken stupor. Ha Ha.)

Also, "God don't make no trash. Therefore there is no God." -Allen Marshall Hitchens, III

I Don't Understand the Present.

05 September 2011

State of Affairs. Warning: May Offend

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