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Belle gave me a booklet thing a couple years ago-the subject happens to be one of the sayings in it that I appreciate. Another being "Why do I have to get married? I didn't do anything wrong!"
And here's the part of my mind where I want to stab people I hate with a rusty screwdriver:
I got hit on by a really creepy old guy (C.O.G.) while standing at the WMU bus stop to go home. You ever just look at someone, get really creeped out, and do your damnedest to stay away(mostly meant for my girlfriends)? Yeah, it didn't work. For your perusing enjoyment, here's our conversation with my internal monologue.
C.O.G. :Hello
Me :Hello (oh fuck...)
C.O.G. :Are you okay?
Me :(WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!) [very nasty voice] Why do you ask?
C.O.G. : Well...you look tired.
Me :(I just spent all day at school teaching, then taking class, and doing homework in between. Am I supposed to look like a fucking beauty pageant contestant? Seriously, WTF?) Long day.
C.O.G. :Okay, okay! Sorry to have bothered you, I guess you're just an incredibly unfriendly person! (walks away)
ME :(yeah, I always tell perfect strangers what's wrong with me while I'm exhausted and freezing and I just want to go home)
The whole experience left me wondering why people like that exist, particularly in my neck of the woods. Make a dumb comment about the weather, or something in the news, but for fuck's sake, don't inquire about my well-being/looks. I don't fucking know you, and I sure as hell don't need it to be insinuated that because I'm not standing around with a huge grin plastered to my face that there's something wrong with me. This is up there with every person who walks by and tells me to smile, it can't be that bad [that happens about twice a week, btw]. Well, really, I'm not allowed to think about anything at all, am I just supposed to look happy for everyone else's enjoyment? Because you know what, nothing is wrong until it's implied that something must be wrong with me for not smiling up a storm every minute of every fucking day.
I was inspired to call Lizzy, but I ended up spending the whole night on the phone with other people. First, there was my dad. Then, Becky and I called each other at about the same time, kinda eerie. Then Scott called. Then I called Jason, since we talk every night. I was on the phone from 6:30-10:30, with a half-hour break for dinner.
And I need to work on re-doing my paper draft.
I feel better now.
And here's the part of my mind where I want to stab people I hate with a rusty screwdriver:
I got hit on by a really creepy old guy (C.O.G.) while standing at the WMU bus stop to go home. You ever just look at someone, get really creeped out, and do your damnedest to stay away(mostly meant for my girlfriends)? Yeah, it didn't work. For your perusing enjoyment, here's our conversation with my internal monologue.
C.O.G. :Hello
Me :Hello (oh fuck...)
C.O.G. :Are you okay?
Me :(WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!) [very nasty voice] Why do you ask?
C.O.G. : Well...you look tired.
Me :(I just spent all day at school teaching, then taking class, and doing homework in between. Am I supposed to look like a fucking beauty pageant contestant? Seriously, WTF?) Long day.
C.O.G. :Okay, okay! Sorry to have bothered you, I guess you're just an incredibly unfriendly person! (walks away)
ME :(yeah, I always tell perfect strangers what's wrong with me while I'm exhausted and freezing and I just want to go home)
The whole experience left me wondering why people like that exist, particularly in my neck of the woods. Make a dumb comment about the weather, or something in the news, but for fuck's sake, don't inquire about my well-being/looks. I don't fucking know you, and I sure as hell don't need it to be insinuated that because I'm not standing around with a huge grin plastered to my face that there's something wrong with me. This is up there with every person who walks by and tells me to smile, it can't be that bad [that happens about twice a week, btw]. Well, really, I'm not allowed to think about anything at all, am I just supposed to look happy for everyone else's enjoyment? Because you know what, nothing is wrong until it's implied that something must be wrong with me for not smiling up a storm every minute of every fucking day.
I was inspired to call Lizzy, but I ended up spending the whole night on the phone with other people. First, there was my dad. Then, Becky and I called each other at about the same time, kinda eerie. Then Scott called. Then I called Jason, since we talk every night. I was on the phone from 6:30-10:30, with a half-hour break for dinner.
And I need to work on re-doing my paper draft.
I feel better now.
