thoughts

1) No one ever makes comments on my posts. I know people read my posts, but it's not hard to drop a line, is it? Yes, I know, the friends who read it see me or talk to me all the time, but I'm lonely over here, y'know? I see journals where one post can have forty comments, even if it's just "Hi, you're cute and I like how you write." It's nice to know that people out there are actually interested in what you have to say.

2) Sometimes I wonder if pride really is a fault. I know a few people who are currently unemployed. They have good skills in a few specific areas, but no one is really looking to hire. And yet these people don't want to get a small, "crap" job just to earn some money, because they're too proud, I think. A lot of people have taken crap jobs, yes, and have done well with them while they search for something better. If those crap jobs end, it's not their fault. But there are others who just don't want to take just any job, even if it means putting food on the table and paying rent. I see homeless people on the streets of DC every day, and I wonder if they consider stopping by the local CVS or McDonald's or Borders and asking for a job. Sure, they have no place to go and need showers, but maybe they can make a little income. Some of them even sell newspapers and flowers and unmbrellas on the side of the roads. One guy shines shoes and has a good racket going. That's money.
I don't know. I'm so on the fence. People have so many different views. Yes, I know some people just can't do it for whatever reason, but there are 6 billion other people on the planet. Someone somewhere probably can.

3) I'm so conflicted about myself--my looks, my confidence. There are days I look in the mirror and truly think of myself as unattractive. Even ugly. I look exactly like my father, so some of the angles of my face are slightly masculine. My chin is too big and it's starting to get this little cleft that I hate. My nose is huge and actually curves. I hate when I smile because my teeth don't look straight. My hair never behaves when I want it to. Then again, my mom did give me her skin tone, hair color, jawline, and finger-length, so that's feminine enough.
There are days when I look in the mirror and see a beautiful woman. Sometimes sultry, ethereal, angelic, innocent, cute, goregeous, amazing. If I put on eyeliner and a little foundation, I know I can look really good. I can be the kind of woman who walks by a group of men and turns their heads and drops their jaws and makes them say, Wow. I know that if I were just a few inches taller, I could be a model. I could. I've been told. But there are too many days when I don't feel like that. I look in a full-length mirror and I don't see what's really there. I don't see a skinny, pale-skinned short elf-girl with perky little breasts and a miniature waist and runway legs. I see too much skin, too much curve; if I relax my midsection it pushes out like I'm bloated. If I tense up, I can see muscles like chisled rocks all over, but they don't stay. I exercise and I walk and walk and walk, and I don't know if it's helping. I eat right. I try to. But I don't know what else I can do.

I'm ugly; I'm beautiful. When I want to, I can be the most beautiful elf-child woman you've ever seen. So why don't I want to?

more thoughts

There are times when I want to love for the sake of loving, and there are times when I want to be loved just because someone loves me. Which one is better? I like both. I like loving and being loved. I think it's the core of my being. I've only ever loved twice, and one of them was a childhood pet. Everyone knows who the second one is.

I love when he touches me just to touch me, rests his chin on my shoulder from behind so I can feel his breath across my cheek. When he's in the computer room and I come sit on his lap and he pulls me close and keeps me there and lets me know he appreciates my company. I love when he cooks for me or gives me presents just to cheer me up, or makes a complete fool of himself in public for the sole purpose of making me laugh. It's the type of person he is. It's in his nature to satisfy others, to make others happy. He hasn't turned down an extra day of work yet, except for illness or inconvenience. If he's going to be out late he lets me know and tells me he loves me. He pushes me to be my best, and because of that I always try to do my best.

Other days, he keeps to himself and smiles gently when I touch him, but is mostly internal, introspective, introverted. He'll sit in one corner and I'll sit in another, until I decide to come over and sit next to him and then he'll put his arm around me, but we'll both still be so quiet and gentle. Those days I withdraw deeper into myself because there's no reason for me to be out there. But that's okay, too, because those are quiet times, good times, where there's still love, just a quiet, deeper love, which is also good.

I have a burning, eternal need to be loved, touched. I've known men to stare at me like I was a goddess, and declare that if I was their girlfriend they'd treat me as such. But life isn't like that, no matter what I hope and want. Love is there, love is good, but love isn't everything. I wish it was. It's the one thing I live for.

gratitude

I just want to express my thanks regarding the generous offer of a particular friend--an offer which I may take him up on very soon. Besides, there's a husky dog I still have to meet.

Oh, and by the way... it's 240 506 3840 so you can put it in your phone.