Friday, 30 March 2012
This is going to be pretty random because my mind is pretty random right now.
I took my lunch break late so I was hoping the afternoon would go faster, but it feels just as fucking long as usual.
I finally started working out again, this morning. My foot that was broken years ago that never quite healed right has been bugging me like hell all week, including today. It just sort of throbs in a dull manner, all the time. My hips hurt too. But I'm only going to bitch about it minimally. I'm so sick of being fat that I am going to put up with whatever I have to put up with to lose this godforsaken weight. I want it gone...but not for anybody else. This time it's for me and me only. If other people think I'm hot later on, that's cool. But it won't change the fact that I don't care whether they do or don't. Take me or leave me, that's how it is.
Speaking of which, I read an article on Datingish today about how this guy told this girl he wouldn't date her because she was too fat. As if that weren't bad enough, all kinds of people in the comments, including girls, thought this was perfectly okay and said they would do the same thing. But they would get mad if someone called them shallow.
Well, guess what: not dating someone because they're fat IS. SHALLOW. Okay? It just is.
Okay, so I don't like to be one of those girls that gushes on and on about my man, but....MY MAN IS AWESOME. I got a little upset with him yesterday over something stupid because I'm PMSing and I feel like a cow, and this morning I was really crabby when I got up, but he helped me anyway. Packed my lunch, did the dishes, got out all my workout stuff and charged my mp3 player. I will pay him back later...lol. If you catch my perverted drift ;) Seriously though, I love him so much that it's almost scary.
This weekend we're going to my parents' house to help with yard work. Woot, I guess. It's supposed to be sunny and warm all weekend and I do like going out to the country when it's nice. Perhaps I'll go for a run. I need to wash my car inside and out too, it's really gross. I should actually take a picture before I clean it, it's that epic. I'm not sure how many cans are on the floor on the passenger side, but it's got to be at least 20. I did throw out the Chinese food containers, so that helps. Ewww, lol. I also found a half-smoked cigarette in the cupholder this morning. I probably shouldn't share these things, but oh well. We all have our vices, and one of mine is messiness.
Also, I cannot STAND my hair right now. It's fine and wispy like always...like freaking angel hair or something. It feels nice, but nobody's feeling it except me and I'd rather have it look good than feel all nice and soft. I like the color, it's finally an almost suitable almost not brassy shade of very pale blonde. But it's BORING BORING BORING. I want to chop one side really short and leave the other side kinda long to give it more of the punk rock look that I like to have. I'm just torn between growing it out and chopping it off. I just keep waiting, thinking maybe it'll grow faster. But it never does. It just sits there looking flat. I suppose I could quit being a lazy fuck and get up 15 minutes earlier to style it. But..... nahhhh.
I like this haircut:
LOVE. IT. But, as my fiance pointed out yesterday when I showed him the picture, her face is really thin. That's when I got upset with him. He didn't say "Her face is thinnER than yours" or "Your face is too round/fat" but that's where my brain immediately went. I knew he didn't mean to hurt my feelings, but I immediately put a negative twist in my brain on anything anyone says that could possibly be construed as related to my being fat. I need to work on this, or it will poison me slowly. Not good.
I also like this haircut:
^^ She is my MEGA girl-crush, can you tell? That's about the color my hair is right now. Eventually I'll probably get it cut in a manner similar to that. It's edgy, cute, and so easy to take care of. Five minutes TOPS to style it.
But alas, this is me now:
DISCLAIMER: ABSOLUTELY NO MAKEUP. My face is so pink! I look like a fucking rosy-cheeked cherub. Excuse me while I don a drapey sheet and strum on my harp.
Okay, I am going to stop complaining about my looks, because A) I really don't look that bad, and B) even if I did, it would be immaterial in the greater scheme of things because there are FAR more important things in life than looking good.
May be hard to believe but it's true!
Peace out, kiddos.