Sunday, November 19, 2006


Called J today while I was taking a break from grouting. He was on his way over, just had to stop and do some shopping first.

Shopping. Flowers and a card. A hug, a kiss and an apology. The card. Wow. He's not running. I want more and... I'm scared to take it. Scared to act on what I want. He says he can handle it and we both need to find out what his limits are. But at the same time, what if finding that limit sends him screaming.

Amazing. Me. Again. I'm an amazing woman. I suppose.No. I know I am. I know a lot of amazing women though. Oh fine. I find it hard to believe that I am amazing. I'm Simple. I'm not...I dont... I... yikes. I've always considered myself substandard. Failing to meet a basic requirement of womanhood. I hate fashion. Don't wear makeup. I burp. I fart and snore. I cry too easily and hate wearing heels. Hell, I couldn't walk in heels until a couple years ago.

I'm not amazing. I'm a clutterbug who's terrified of being alone. I have cats so i'm not alone, I suppose. I annoyingly love christmas. I'm already listening to holiday music. Makes me smile. Laugh. Makes me cry.


What does any of it mean. Honestly? It's all crap. I'm someone who doesn't fit a mold. I'm different. Not beautiful. Not ugly. Somewhere in between. I'm what people take as good enough when they realize they can't have anythying better. I 'm not their dream girl. I'm not ideal. They can't dress me up and take me out. But, I'm attractive enough. Good job. Great condo. Maybe if I lose some weight, I might fit into their ideal.

Funny that. I'm losing the weight all on my own. Lot of it's stress. And just doing things around the house. And hating to eat alone. Why make myself supper after work? Why make a mess in my kitchen? Go to all that effort for something that at least 1/2 of gets thrown away? Same with breakfast. Why bother with buying groceries for... that.

I"m not amazing. I'm just trying to live day by day and not lose who I am. Not cave to some societal pressure to be something I'm not. Holding on to outdated ideals and beliefs. Somehow, somewhere, I got strong in who I am. Maybe it's because of the bullying. People trying to make me believe I'm no good for who I am. Because I'm different. Conform or be an outcast. Well, apparently I wasn't able to conform then either. Why conform? Even then, I knew it was wrong to hurt people because they were different.

Amazing? No. Non-conformist. Different. Unusual. Unconventional. At one time that made me a target for abuse. Now it makes me wonderful? Eccentric, maybe...but I thought I had a few more years before I earned that title.

I thought I could change the world. In some ways, maybe I can. Maybe I have. But in reality...the world doesn't want to change. Our society wants to maintain a lack of creativity. Suppress individuality.

Well, wasn't that a neat little babble from a bitter semi-old woman terrified to face the future because she just might get hurt again. All the courage in the world to rail against society and conformity, yet when reality hits, I want to curl up in my bed and pretend the world doesn't exist. Nice, huh?


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