Sometimes, I imagine that if you were to look up the word contradiction in the dictionary (they still have those, right?) you might see a picture of me. I always feel like I am at odds with myself. I do not do well in social situations and prefer to hide out at home where I am safe from awkward moments and yet when I am at home and safe from awkward moments I feel a smidge bored and a whole lotta forgettable. But when I am out and talking to people I have a constant dialogue in my head mostly made up of the words "stop talking, stop talking, STOP TALKING!" And I say that in relation to the blather my mouth is spewing forth. Yeesh!
I want to be liked but am too afraid of being stupid so I hide out and yet I speak up and out against things I think are unfair or unjust. I have little patience for what I imagine is stupidity but I am not exempt form doing and thinking stupid things.
I tend to lean towards the idea that my way is right or better or easier and yet I am always fearful of doing everything wrong. I already know that if we were to arrange four boxes of people doing the same thing whilst playing this song, I would be the thing that was not like the others.
I am not a fan of my face and don't say but I like your face, this is me, blathering on about um..me and I'm not a fan of my face...especially right now since I seem to have found that weight I recently lost. It has camped itself out on my face (among other areas). Though, on the oft chance of taking a stellar picture of said face (one where the chins are nicely cropped out) I will post it here to tomorrow. But if there is one thing that will bum me out more than the non-working sniffer it is looking at and searching for one single good picture of THE face.
The other day, I decided I need a new icon picture for FB and Pinterest and blogger, et al. I bathed and moisturized and brushed everything that needed brushing. The good mirror (the only mirror actually, thank MAUDE it is a good one) showed me on the way to looking decent. I applied mascara and lavender eye powder, a smidge o' pink to tint up the cheeks and my too-young-for-me red lipstick. I stood in the good light in the living room, picked up the Rebel, aimed it at where my face should be and took a few pictures before reviewing them.
And then I cringed a cringedy-cringe as I looked at that trio of dopplegangers that could not possibly be me as I had good hair just moments before. I ran into the bathroom (the very same one I left an egg in but I will share that story later) to view the disaster only to be greeted with a decent me. I sighed, took a breath and decided to try again, this time using the powershot as it has a flip screen which is really good for making faces at the camera.
In retrospect, I probably should not have attempted this whilst watching America's Next Top Model. Yeeash. I need a new hobby...or another job...or a new lipstick (one that is a leetle less red?).