whether vain

add “fluxx” to my top-ten favorite games to play list.

last night on the ferry ride home, i played fluxx with jared and another commuter. he never did introduce himself, but he had fun anyway. i really enjoyed the game, although i was terribly preoccupied with my own self-pitying thoughts that spewed forth amidst a flurry of tears when i arrived home.

i haven’t felt good about my appearance in several months. it started with gaining weight immediately after i quit smoking in january, and then i had a few months of okayness since i took the weight (all five pounds of it) back off again. but i still feel lumpy, out of shape, and my hair is in that in-between stage – in between the cute, short bobs of a year ago, and the mid-back-length mane i have had most of my life. on top of these disappointing things, my complexion is aggravated by anything anymore, which means i’ll either have to go to a dermatologist or live with blotches and spots. neither option is tempting. and on top of that, i haven’t had money to spend on clothes or shoes in a very long time. the last pair of shoes i bought, to replace the boots with soles that had worn completely through, cost $9.99. i’m wearing those now. i own three other pairs of shoes, all gifts.

this from the girl who always looked put-together, who always had cool shoes and clothes and a look going on. these days my look is “that broke, frumpy girl”. and i’m trying desperately not to care, but the truth is, i don’t feel pretty or interesting and it makes me sad.

i read far too much into normal interaction with people. i analyze it as it’s happening, then after it happens, and on and on until i find something else to obsess over. whenever i meet someone new, i have a period of “of course i’m interesting, how could i not be?” which is replaced within a week with “i’m so boring, how could i ever hold so-and-so’s interest, let alone something as long-term as a friendship?” each comment, each look, each gesture is analyzed and categorized and yet no conclusions are drawn. i just leave it all hanging … until i get discouraged enough (by something totally unrelated, mind you) to assume the worst about myself.

can i tell you how much i fucking hate this pattern?

today i had lunch with crism and a mutual friend who is in town for the weekend. we went to a little french bistro here in the financial district and for an hour i forgot to be self-conscious, fixating instead on the sparkling conversation, the warm feeling of continuity from picking right up where i left off with friends. i hadn’t realized how much i missed her until i saw her again, and she gave me a big hug, which was sorely needed.

i know the self-pity will return when i go into the women’s restroom and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. unfortunately, i had coffee and then large quantities of water today, so i can’t delay much longer.

i feel compelled to add the following: please don’t read this as a fish for compliments. it’s not. i analyze compliments to death, too. you’ll save me processing time if you refrain from flattery. heh.

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