i had this great dream last night that i was in a tv studio that was all glass (like that old carson daly set but at ground level), with some uber-hip girls from one band or another, who were cracking wise on passers-by and talking about the infantilization of women's bodies (i was reading margaret cho's blog last night before bed), when a tiny little hipster girl walked past the window eating a lollipop and trying not to notice that i was in the room with the coolest girls ever, and the one girl said something incredibly witty and catty that escapes me now, and then looked at the other saying something to the effect of "oops, was that out loud?" and both girls were curvy and wonderful in multiple layers of corduroy and overlapping t-shirts and they were just like me.
i need dreams like that more often. it's funny, suddenly i'm all self-conscious again, just when i start to actually take better care of myself. i've been going to gym (so far, only my wallet is lighter from this experience), even managing two days in a row before this headcold moved in to kill all motivation. i still feel all bloated and icky from lack of exercise and want to hide until i lose another fifty pounds. my skin is starting to clear up, but leaving little angry red marks to remind me what it can do the next time. anyone have any (preferably cheap) remedies for the after-acne red spots? i can almost understand cameron diaz not going anywhere when she has a breakout. on the one hand i want to commiserate, and on the other i want to tell her to suck it up because the poor among us can't afford the luxury of never leaving our houses without looking flawless.
my hair looks arguably fabulous, but i'm needlessly worried that it looks more like rosie o'donnel's bowl cut than rockstar shaggy gorgeousness. and that cavity in my front teeth is really frickin' noticeable, and i need to find a damn dentist and deal with it.
so, to sum up: chubby girl, nice clothes, good hair, bad teeth.
and there's a party tonight, at this guy anthony's (he was in one of my brother's bands) house; he does some kind of real grown-up type job, he wears expensive clothes and apparently takes his friends to strip clubs. i don't want to feel out of my element; i want to feel cool and smart and desirable. not because i want to date some idiot with expensive shoes, but because i want them to not be able to believe their dumb luck that someone like me is talking to someone like them. i just want my appearance to catch up in coolness with the rest of me, so i can get any skinny pale dorky boy that i want. that probably still doesn't make any sense...i just want them to be curves, not bumps, and then i will settle down to being the sexy goddess i was meant to be.
like i said, i need more dreams like the one i had last night.
beatpoetgrrl
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