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Its possibly not as bad as I make it out to be.....

This past weekend was quite a doozie. I have no clue how but, all of a sudden, I have become busy, all the time. We could go through my archives right now and find that less than six months ago I was complaining about not having enough motivation and never doing anything and then BAM. I have enjoyed it, its just weird how it came suddenly.

But lets get to the good part... Saturday night I went out with my Sister and some friends Brandon, my boyfriend, stayed home. We went to the dog track and gambled a bit and then we went to a club in Southside to drink and dance.

I have to preface this by saying that all my life I have been skiny. Over the last year though that has all changed. I am by no means fat but when you have barley weighed 100 pounds soaking wet until you were 26 years old and you put on, oh I dont know, aprox. 27 pounds you can feel it. You can feel it in EVERY MOVE YOU MAKE. I hate it. I know that I am not fat, everyone says I look healthier but I feel disgusting. There are these parts of me now that have never been there before and its uncomfortable. Now when you take into account that I have always had a poor body image, then the weight gain almost becomes unbarable. Pair the wieght gain with my acne (that didnt show its ugly self until I was about 25) and I get down right depressed. Only causing the acne to get worse.

So anytime I get ready to go anywhere I get in the foulest mood ever. There is usually crying and screaming and an object being launched across the room. I open my closet and its full of size zeros and size twos and I cant get those past my hips anymore. I will not throw them away, I will fit in them again I say every time. My tight shirts that exposed my flat stomache have now been replaced with long loose shirts that hide my spare tire. The ass that has always sat round and high is slowly sliding down the back of legs, like a fucking mudslide.

So Saturday when I went to get ready to go out I didnt even try really hard to look that good hoping to prevent the fit I knew would be inevitably pitched. I just threw on my cute jeans and some strappy heels and a t-shirt that read "boyfriends make nice pets". My boyfriend was going to be at home anyway so I thought why try. Then the unthinkable happened. I got hit on all night and not by the weirdos I am used to. By hotties I tell you, HOTTIES.

Now I am not stupid enough to kid myself here folks, but I will let it make me feel better about my looks. I am sure I was just one of many random girls who was 'pretty enough' to try to make the moves on in the club, and when I said no politley they just made their way around the club to scount for the next potential lay. I guess it is kind of pathetic of me to have to relie on being hit on to feel good about myself. But hey what can I say I'm pathetic.

I have always hated that I cared so much about looking perfect. The thing is I do, even now at 28 years old I long to look like the girls in the magazines, the perfect skin, perfect body, hair, clothes, teeth, perfect, perfect, perfect. I also know that they dont really look like that but I DO want to look like that. I hope that one day I find a happy place in all of this where I can be okay with who I am and the way I look.

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