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One poor quiet little ant has her say. Now please don't squish me.
2003-01-10 - 6:02 p.m.


Ok. Time for the mindless philosophizing that I promised. I've suddenly found myself deep in the bowels of a Mood. There's really no reason for me to be in a Mood. I mean sure, it's Friday night and I'm sure my plans will consist of gravitating between the TV and the computer, but still. This is no different from 98% of the weekend nights I spend at home. The only difference is that little 2%. At home there exists the potential for going out, if only with the Sears kids to Applebee's to mutually ogle the electronics guys and to engage in Mucho Mudslide chugging contests. I always enjoy the look of shock on people's faces when they see me with an alcoholic beverage in my hand at all. So therefore it is unreasonable for me to feel the least bit melancholic about the night's potential. Were I at home, I wouldn't be doing anything anyway.

(Speaking of the worthy subject of alcohol, I am wearing my sister's DeKuyper Peachtree Schnapps shirt. What is my 15 year old sister doing with such an article of clothing, you ask? Actually I believe at some point she stole this from me who stole this from my parents. So you see, by wearing this shirt, I am in some way protecting her from the alcoholic genes by um, wearing the shirt.... yeah if I had a point just now I forgot what it was.... ok, time to move on....)

For the first two years of high school, my uniform was jeans, sneakers, flannel shirt, and hair tied back with a scrunchie in some degree of ponytail. I was the quiet one. The smart one. The band geek. And this was all fine. I was comfortable with that. But as I have said before, my best friend began to urge me to come out of my shell. "Let my hair down", both figuratively, and literally. Junior year I started to slowly ditch the scrunchies (and the flannel, thank goodness). My hair was down. But I was not out of the old shell by a long shot. Who knew I had such big, luxurious curls? So much easier to hide behind then hair squished down and back in a scrunchie. I made small improvements, but I was still the quiet one, the smart one, the band geek, only now I was sitting in the corner, hiding behind my hair. Haha.

So what exactly in the name of Holy God/Buddha/Allah/Mother Nature/Bill Clinton/R2D2/etc. am I trying to say here? I'm beginning I wish I knew what it was like to have self-esteem. Just one little shred would work. For too much of the time, I sit alone, cowering in the corner, absolutely terrified of what people think of me. Thinking of the various reasons I'm not out on a Friday night (at home, mind you- this is still Hickville). I realize this is completely ridiculous. I'm 22. Not 12. In middle school home ec (or home and career skills, as they liked to call it) was a required class. They fed us all this self-esteem garbage in the guise of "polishing your diamond inside". The teacher handed out these little posters of ants gazing up at a big sparkly diamond. I thought I had never heard a more wonderful idea. I went home and put that little poster up on my wall, thinking it would motivate me to pull a positive outlook on life out of my ass. The poster hangs on my wall to this day (right next to my "The Matrix" movie poster, hehe). But I have never, ever followed that advice. I manage to come up with the occasional "Yes, I do indeed have great hair" or "I am a good listener" or "I am God's gift to the flute" or "I really should wear this little black dress every single day". But I am unable to fully reason with my poor shy little mind, to convince myself that I am a good, interesting, worthwhile human being overall.

*sigh*

Hmmm. I just fell off the depressive train of thought upon which I was enjoying a fine meal in the dining car. There was shrimp and strawberries and everything good- moping can be quite delicious. Perhaps there was a good old-fashioned Agatha Christie type murder in the boxcar and some handsome detective in a tuxedo came along and I was distracted. But apparently he solved the murder. Or simply asked me for some Grey Poupon. I don't really remember.

So, to sum up, here are some things I want right now:

-to think about how much my fashion sense has improved since 1994

-a shred of self-esteem

-something to do tonight

-to go home!!!!

-a Reason in the guise of a handsome detective wearing a tuxedo (if I should wear my little black dress more often, guys should wear tuxes more often- can I get a witness on that?)

-a turkey sandwich on rye with lettuce, tomato, hot peppers, pickles, and some unnamed dijon-style mustard

Thank you. I'm off to my boring Friday now. Everybody wish Tari luck on her evening's adventures! :)

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