Well, f*cknuts. So my whole hypothesis in the post below is wrong. Wrong wrong.
I looked like ass today. Sweat pants, ratty ponytail, ugg boots. Haven't looked this lousy since the shoot. And two men in the supermarket were still as attentive and smiley, all full of manly providing as when I was in a dress. Maybe it's the perfume?
Rats. How am I supposed to effect change and make the people around me happy if I can't figure out what the hell is producing the result?
And it's not that I'm happier...I mean, I am. But I wasn't today. Today I'm tired and overwhelmed. I feel this emotional tightness in my chest that's just ugh.
What would make me really happy would be to lay my head in a man's lap and have him pet my hair while we watched something with big vistas. Lean, or Minghella. Or...I'm in the mood for Star Wars. Sigh. That would feel like bliss.
2 comments:
I read your previous post this morning... Damn! How could I ever pull off even one whole day in a dress and perfume? I left my apartment with my hair in a messy ponytail, wondering when I would get my shit together.
I just read your latest post... Hallelujah! I feel normal again.
Sometimes our heroes have to lift up their capes and show us their sweatpants.
What??????
Sillypants.
Dude, that soooo makes me want to put Casey in a cape and sweatpants. Viva Pistoleras!
You up for a matinee Tuesday or Wednesday? I'm feeling melancholy; missing my mom and a cute boyfriend who adores me. I'm on the cliff alone.
Need some girltime. Maybe some daytime margartia drinking. I should fumigate my place and have you over. You love second hand smoke, right? Can't get enough of it?
I guess I'm a little relieved the dress experiment failed. I mean, people really can't be THAT unimaginitive and superficial about judging us by our covers. Can they?
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