The Day After (and a Bad Hair Day too)
So....On Monday I had written a witty forecast of what I thought would happen and what I would have liked to happen on the night of the Great Event of the Week.
It is all very nice to try to be funny now, because I think this is the best way I can face things when they turn against my wishes (which they always do when I am in this kind of situation).
Still, I'm going headlong towards the "Desperate Kingdom of Shattered Feelings", and it doesn't feel that good.
My crazy mind is seriously thinking about chatting for a minute with him, on Tuesday, at the gym, just to have some contact, try to progress, see if he wants to progress.
"Progress" is a huge word, really..Cross that out and put "begin" instead. Or any synonim that implies the blank state of being nowhere in space and time with somebody.
Oh, probably I should mention that he was not there, yesterday.
I'm drinking gallons of tea.
I'm thinking that tomorrow I'm going to a huge shopping mall, 200 shops to get lost in, with a shop-a-holic friend who will help me through the difficult task of buying "things that I don't really need but which will make me look cooler when I wear them and therefore I may be more attractive". My feminist me screams and shouts when I say this sort of things!
But it's true! I have gone from gym to gym only to see more girlie girls and 50-something women and business-women and "multimedia" women (mother who's in perfect shape after three kids+businesswoman+wife+trendyfriend - all combined in one) all wearing tight shirts and tiny shorts, with breadstick-like arms and legs, or curvy-but-just-perfect bums, showing the typical attitude of "I only want to be a bit more toned, you know, but actually I think I am perfect and have only come here to show off". And what I think and see is, I am not that different (except that I am a bit more curvy, but the curvy that feels good, which makes me look like a woman and not like a 10 year-old girl), so I suppose I shold get some looks from "the boys", right?
Then I think, it's all because of my torso, which is a swimmer's torso, more developed than, say, a runner's, and this make me look a lot fatter than I am, and there is really nothing I can do about it, because it isn't something you lose by dieting or exercising, it's the way my bones and muscles have developed after 15 years of semi-professional swimming, but obviously the average man will not think that (and for what matters, not even the average woman will), they will go straight to the "fat girl" classification, which annoys me like mad, like the time I was out with a couple of girlfriends and we were jokeing with the bartender and one of us suggested another round of Vodka (sigh..my drinking days), and the bartender simply looked at me and said something like "well, you can afford that", as in "you're fat and a bit more alcohol won't affect your ability to drive because it will be absorbed a lot better than for these poor thin girls who are out with you".
I don't think I have expressed myself that well.
What I mean is, there are lots of contrasting thoughts in my mind, all related to my being physically "abnormal" and living in a world of people who: 1. don't exercise therefore have no muscles whatsoever; 2. don't exercise therefore have no muscles therefore are thin and light; 3. don't exercise therefore have no muscles therefore are thin and light therefore get noticed more; and people who 1. exercise less than I do and yet look better and fitter; 2. exercise less than I do and lose weight, tone up, look fab after a month; 3. exercise less than I do and get exactly the shape they wanted to look even greater.
Do I scare people? Disgust them? Do I look ridiculous when I wear smart clothes, mini-skirts, and such?
I remember this episode on my English book, when Arthur and Mary are going to a party, and Mary has bought this cute green dress; so has her friend whatshername, who's just a little plumpier than Mary. I remember the comment of a classmate, girl, who said with a smirk "look, she's trying to look as good as Mary, poor idiot", or something of the kind, and me being a lot fatter back then, I felt so ashamed.
I also remember being at the swimming pool with friends and looking at the girls, one by one, being thrown in the water by the guys. Noticed? I said "looking".
And I remember friends sitting on their friends'/boyfriends' laps. Something which I couldn't do even now, even thought my BMI is supernormal and my weight is perfect for my height. But I still look fat, don't I? And what bugs me is that I have decreased my size while manufacturers have decreased the sizes of clothes, so now a Large is actually a Small, so I still have to buy L or XL for my Medium me, and feel guilty and fat. Epecially when I have to ask for a larger size (that's why I don't like shop assistants: they're all skinny little bitches who look at your miserable self and merciless tell you that no, 46 is the largest size they have, and if they could throw you out of the shop to avoid bad publicity they would do it regardless).
Sometimes I feel tired beyond reason. Sometimes I think "fuck all, why bother, I'll eat and drink like everybody else does". Sometimes I think that eventually I will find somebody who will take me as I am.
Then something clicks in me, and I get changed in trainers and shorts, and I'm running miles, music out loud in the headphones, and bright images of a normal world flow in my mind.
Then the daydreams get more real as the miles increase, and all feels good, and I'm breathing fresh air and I am thinking that tomorrow something good will happen and I will feel well.
It is all very nice to try to be funny now, because I think this is the best way I can face things when they turn against my wishes (which they always do when I am in this kind of situation).
Still, I'm going headlong towards the "Desperate Kingdom of Shattered Feelings", and it doesn't feel that good.
My crazy mind is seriously thinking about chatting for a minute with him, on Tuesday, at the gym, just to have some contact, try to progress, see if he wants to progress.
"Progress" is a huge word, really..Cross that out and put "begin" instead. Or any synonim that implies the blank state of being nowhere in space and time with somebody.
Oh, probably I should mention that he was not there, yesterday.
I'm drinking gallons of tea.
I'm thinking that tomorrow I'm going to a huge shopping mall, 200 shops to get lost in, with a shop-a-holic friend who will help me through the difficult task of buying "things that I don't really need but which will make me look cooler when I wear them and therefore I may be more attractive". My feminist me screams and shouts when I say this sort of things!
But it's true! I have gone from gym to gym only to see more girlie girls and 50-something women and business-women and "multimedia" women (mother who's in perfect shape after three kids+businesswoman+wife+trendyfriend - all combined in one) all wearing tight shirts and tiny shorts, with breadstick-like arms and legs, or curvy-but-just-perfect bums, showing the typical attitude of "I only want to be a bit more toned, you know, but actually I think I am perfect and have only come here to show off". And what I think and see is, I am not that different (except that I am a bit more curvy, but the curvy that feels good, which makes me look like a woman and not like a 10 year-old girl), so I suppose I shold get some looks from "the boys", right?
Then I think, it's all because of my torso, which is a swimmer's torso, more developed than, say, a runner's, and this make me look a lot fatter than I am, and there is really nothing I can do about it, because it isn't something you lose by dieting or exercising, it's the way my bones and muscles have developed after 15 years of semi-professional swimming, but obviously the average man will not think that (and for what matters, not even the average woman will), they will go straight to the "fat girl" classification, which annoys me like mad, like the time I was out with a couple of girlfriends and we were jokeing with the bartender and one of us suggested another round of Vodka (sigh..my drinking days), and the bartender simply looked at me and said something like "well, you can afford that", as in "you're fat and a bit more alcohol won't affect your ability to drive because it will be absorbed a lot better than for these poor thin girls who are out with you".
I don't think I have expressed myself that well.
What I mean is, there are lots of contrasting thoughts in my mind, all related to my being physically "abnormal" and living in a world of people who: 1. don't exercise therefore have no muscles whatsoever; 2. don't exercise therefore have no muscles therefore are thin and light; 3. don't exercise therefore have no muscles therefore are thin and light therefore get noticed more; and people who 1. exercise less than I do and yet look better and fitter; 2. exercise less than I do and lose weight, tone up, look fab after a month; 3. exercise less than I do and get exactly the shape they wanted to look even greater.
Do I scare people? Disgust them? Do I look ridiculous when I wear smart clothes, mini-skirts, and such?
I remember this episode on my English book, when Arthur and Mary are going to a party, and Mary has bought this cute green dress; so has her friend whatshername, who's just a little plumpier than Mary. I remember the comment of a classmate, girl, who said with a smirk "look, she's trying to look as good as Mary, poor idiot", or something of the kind, and me being a lot fatter back then, I felt so ashamed.
I also remember being at the swimming pool with friends and looking at the girls, one by one, being thrown in the water by the guys. Noticed? I said "looking".
And I remember friends sitting on their friends'/boyfriends' laps. Something which I couldn't do even now, even thought my BMI is supernormal and my weight is perfect for my height. But I still look fat, don't I? And what bugs me is that I have decreased my size while manufacturers have decreased the sizes of clothes, so now a Large is actually a Small, so I still have to buy L or XL for my Medium me, and feel guilty and fat. Epecially when I have to ask for a larger size (that's why I don't like shop assistants: they're all skinny little bitches who look at your miserable self and merciless tell you that no, 46 is the largest size they have, and if they could throw you out of the shop to avoid bad publicity they would do it regardless).
Sometimes I feel tired beyond reason. Sometimes I think "fuck all, why bother, I'll eat and drink like everybody else does". Sometimes I think that eventually I will find somebody who will take me as I am.
Then something clicks in me, and I get changed in trainers and shorts, and I'm running miles, music out loud in the headphones, and bright images of a normal world flow in my mind.
Then the daydreams get more real as the miles increase, and all feels good, and I'm breathing fresh air and I am thinking that tomorrow something good will happen and I will feel well.
posted by Peggy @ 11:47 AM
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