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d-ring mothaload

Me=Chubby

2000-12-08::00:31:00

You know who I miss? Hum. I was listening to You'd Prefer an Astronaut today, and well, I just really miss them. That album has to be my favorite Hum album. I bet you I have listened to it no less than 450,000 times. I remember Katie and I went to see them when we were seniors in high school. It was a great show, and I am glad we saw them before they called it quits. Why is it that some of my favorite bands just spilt up all of a sudden? Like Soul Coughing? What's up with that? I loved them. Especially the lead singer, M. Doughty. So yeah, he is a little old and balding, but I tell you what, I have only had one real sex dream ever in my life, and he was the one in it. Too much info? I understand. Anyway, he came to Detroit this past fall, doing his solo thing, and I didn't make it to see him, pretty much because I didn't have anyone to go with, but I think I already wrote about that. The point is I vowed to write him an email professing my love for him and my sadness for having missed his show, but I never got around to it. I think I didn't do it just because I didn't want to sound like a typical fan- "Oh, I love you, please father my baby!" I shouldn't have worried though. How many offers like that is Doughty getting? Not as many as Justin Timberlake, that's for sure. Oh well, crazy what you could have had Doughty.

Ugh, today I had a really horrible shopping experience. I hate shopping for clothes, basically because nothing ever looks right on me, although I am far better looking with clothes on than with them off. Anyway, back to today. Today I had three main things to get- a new coat to replace "Puffa," new bras, and an new outfit for this party I am going to this weekend with at everyone's favorite philosophy professor, John Corvino's, house. So, finding a new coat was easy. I fell in love with the first one I tried on, but the other things were giving me problems. Like, here is my deal with bras- I hate them. I can never find one that fits right, and they are just so uncomfortable. If I could go without one without looking like a tramp, believe me I would, but I can't. And, will someone please answer this question for me, aren't your breasts supposed to stop growing when the rest of you does? I mean really, I am 20, they should be done by now. I guess any weight I have been putting on has been going straight to them though, because today I found myself straining to squeeze the suckers into a DD. It was completely disgusting. Now, some of you might find this amusing, but I tell you big breasts are not where it's at. I hate mine. Wayne and Jenny are working on a patent for the "Slicer," which basically allows you to slice off unwanted body fat and things of that nature. I say screw the fat, I can live with that. Once they get the bugs worked out of their invention, my tits are the first things to go. Oh, am I being too vulgar? Tough. I tell you, instead of saving up for to go to Germany and visit Maria, I should be saving to get these things hacked off. Genug ist genug. No one wants to hear anymore about my breasts, I am sure.

Anyway, so I finally found some bras to suffice, and then it was time to find an outfit. Well, that wasn't nearly as hard as trying to find a bra, but it still was giving me troubles. I ended up finally finding one I liked after two hours, and so I bought it. Mom came home a few hours after I did, and so I decided to model it for her and she gave me this look that could only be interpretted as "what-were-you-thinking-you-chubby-ugly-girl." Her look made me feel like the fattest slob alive. She didn't have to even say anything, but she did, and that just made it a thousand times worse. She gave me one of those, "Well, it's ok, it's just not something I would wear." Mind you, it is not like I came out of my room in daisy dukes and a halter top. I had a sweater set and a skirt on, but I don't know, I guess it was the fact that I had red and pink on, or maybe the fact that I was actually wearing a skirt instead of my usual jeans that was enough to make my mom want to puke. Just the tone of her voice and the look in her eye made me feel like the grossest shit that ever lived. So I took the whole outfit back, complete with matching jewelry, right that very second. The woman who rang me up at the store looked at me like I was a crazy when she saw me returning 75% of my purchase. And so when she asked if there was anything wrong with the clothes, I found myself spilling my guts out to a deaf ear. She didn't really care, she just needed some excuse to right in for why I was returning over $100 worth of clothing. Anyway, so now I am back to square one with the whole new outfit thing. I think I am just going to try to wear something I already have though, because, to tell you the truth, I couldn't afford that new outfit anyway, but thanks to the wonders of plastic, I could pretend that I could.

Ok, so now that I have bored anyone who actually reads this, I am wrapping it up. Night all.