Finding Myself OMG: A Bullshit Quest

Well, where do I start? I'm struggling, I suppose, to find out who I am outside of who my parents want me to be, who my friends want me to be, or who my own perfectionist tendencies (totally personified) want me to be. I don't know if this blog will really document my progress in, ahem, coming of age, or if it will just basically be a place for me to vent and blab about nothing. We shall see.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

My Boobs Are Peeling; And Other Tales of Horror

Yes, it is indeed true. For several days now, my breasts have been peeling off. Just the skin, though, and just at the top of my cleavage, not my nipples or anything drastic. My shoulders are peeling, too. Indeed, I am still suffering the ill effects of last Saturday's sunburn.

I don't really have any tales of horror. I just thought the title was fun.

I should be working on cleaning my room now. Eh. Not feeling it. But then again, when am I ever feeling it?

Last night, at dinner with my friend Caitlin and her parents, I ordered a Rolling Rock with my meal. Now, I know I look younger than I am. I'm used to being carded. In fact, I would be shocked if I wasn't. But I like to imagine that I at least look sixteen, seventeen, maybe eighteen.

So I order my beer, and the waitress asks to see my ID, and Mr. and Mrs. P are all, "Oh, she's twenty-one, believe us." But I was like, "No, no, it's okay." The waitress looks at my driver's license for like thirty seconds, look back at me.

"I thought you were kidding! I would have thought fourteen, fifteen tops."

For the rest of the meal, every time she comes back to our table, she repeats, "Fourteen. Fourteen!"

Jesus Christ on a pogo stick. Four-fucking-teen. I know I'm always going to look younger than I am, and that this will be a good thing when I'm in my forties or fifties, but fourteen? That's just humiliating. I look like a freshman in high school.

I consoled myself that it was because I didn't have any make up on. I don't know if it makes that much difference, but I'd like to fancy that with make up on, I look at least sixteen. Damn.

Yesterday was a somewhat disturbing day altogether. I went to the book sale at the library, strategically waited until the bag sale started, and then went in to start filling up my bags. I ended up getting eight bags of books for eight dollars.

But the creepy part was when this weird old guy started talking to me. My mom was there, and we both thought he was strange but harmless at first, because he was talking about books. So then my mom wandered off to another table and left me, and as soon as she's gone the old fat weirdo moves closer and says, "I like your perfume. What kind is it? It smells good."

I'm like, "Uh, thanks," wait a few seconds, and discreetly hightail it over to my mommy.

I say, "Thanks for leaving me alone with the creepy old guy," and my mom's all, "He's harmless." I respond, "He said I smelled good! He asked me what kind of perfume I was wearing!"

My mom: "Oh. Move closer to me."

Now, with the fourteen comment hanging in my mind, I'm thinking he was probably a prospective pedophile.

Last night was better, though, as you can probably tell from my drunken post from the wee small hours of the morning. We went to Allison's house and had a celebratory girls' night in, since Roxy's leaving for Ukraine next weekend. We played board games and got drunk on White Russians. Fun times.

I think I need to go take my shower now, and then work on cleaning my room. Seriously. Or maybe clean my room and then take my shower, since I'm bound to get dirty in the process.

, , ,


  • At 8:38 PM, Blogger eyeball said…

    I don't know how I found you're blog. I was reading some of your posts you seem very complex. I remember When I was a student. That time in peoples lifes seems to make them nervous. I can tell in your writing that you are thinking the same way I was when I was a student. Always worried about something but not necessarily wanting to do anything about it right away. Don't think so much and you will feel better. I know that is hard to do. If you are always thinking about school or your future then when do you get to experience the present? Everybody only lives once and we all need to have fun. Make sure you end up working at a place that you enjoy. No matter who you are we all get paid the same...Less than we are worth but just enough to keep us crawling back for more. When you enjoy your job that is when you will enjoy your life.
    While you are enjoying your job and life in the future you will think back to when you where a student as the happiest times of your life.


Post a Comment

<< Home