Just me

I see it now. I've been so silly. So the same as ever. I need to just be me. Fat if I am fat. Stupid if I am stupid. Funny if I am funny. Just me. The best version I can be of me. The prettiest me that I can be. The most genuine version of me that I can be.

How sad is it that, as I told myself that I can be a valuable human being and still be fat, tears came to my eyes. How sad is it that, as I asked myself who told me otherwise, I had an answer.

That was not her opinion of me. That was her opinion of herself. She has been wrong about SO MUCH... why do I still believe that she could have been right about that?

I've known beautiful fat women. They are living their lives and letting the rest... be. That's what I'm going to do. That's who I'm going to be. Starting now. Right. Now.

Let's go to the movies...

What is it about the act of sitting in a darkened movie theatre that brings me such clarity? It is something that I think I should start doing often again because it has a way of motivating me that I entirely don't understand. But not understanding doesn't mean it doesn't work, right?

Anyways, I was at the movies with my Debraly tonight - jesus, how is it possible to love someone so much? - and it hit me. Stop. Stop. Stop waiting. Stop planning. Stop expecting. Stop hoping. Stop foreseeing. Start living.

I don't have any time to waste. There's too much that I want to do. Too much that I want to achieve. Too much that I want to experience. Too much that I want to give. And there is absolutely nothing in any of that the requires me to be thin or sexy or anything other than who I am. Somewhere I started putting all this pressure on myself again and it is affecting me the exact way it has always affected me. And I am losing my mind because of it.

I don't want to wait. I don't want to not do things because my jeans don't fit. I'll go buy some new jeans. And I don't want to be with anyone who wouldn't want to be with me based on some extra baggage around my waist.

And now my brows are a mess. And my hair has three inches of roots. And my skin is blemished. And I'm not happy. I'm just not happy.

That old "it's okay to hate my life right now" is a load of steaming brown stuff and I know it. It's not okay to ever hate my life and I won't hate it ever again. I am not going to sit here and wait for my life to happen. I am going to make it happen. Fat or thin doesn't matter any more. Happy or sad is all that counts.

What I am thankful for

It's Thanksgiving in the states - Twitter is all about the thank yous today - so I thought I would drop a few words about what I am thankful for.

First and above all, I am thankful to be alive. Not that I thought I would not be alive at this point but, until a couple of years ago, I really didn't care much one way or the other. And not having the balls to drive off a cliff actually pissed me off quite a bit so I'm glad those days are behind me.

Secondly, I'm thankful for my sister. Back in the day I would tell her that every dollar I gave her was an investment in my future because she was going to have to take care of me when I'm old. Neither of us thought it would happen so soon.

I'm thankful for my family, and this year Dad has to go front and centre on this one. You know why and I don't feel like crying right now so I'll leave it at that.

I'm thankful that I still have a wee bit of credit left to live on till I find a job. It's gonna have to be one fucking hell of a job to get this paid off, though.

I'm also thankful that there is nothing that I'm not thankful for. My life is still in transition mode and I'm excited to see where all of this leads me.

♫♫Burn the fuckin' house to the mother fuckin' ground!♫♫

I'm so bored with myself today. And I hate that. I don't agree with boredom, it bores me. There are a million things I could be doing but I'm just not in the mood.

I want out! I want people! I want excitement! I want... something else. I want to move forward, I guess. But that's not going to happen while I sit here and whine.

What is it in me that makes me want to stamp my feet and have a tantrum sometimes? And what is it that makes me think that as soon as I am not in a great mood that I have to do something about it? Try to figure out how to fix it, how to make it better, how to make it stop?

Maybe sometimes I'm just not in a good mood. And maybe that's just life.  And maybe some days are just better than others. I think I have always lived my life in such extremes that the inbetween times weird me out. I have to be enormously happy or a puddle on the floor. That I get. That I understand. Nothingness? Is. Just. Boring.

Go read a fucking book already, you big baby. *grins*

Yeah

- yeah? Well, lets try this again, smart ass... you thought you were so fucking awesome last time... fix me now, bitch.

- what the ---

- yeah, I thought so. Welcome to my world.

- what the hell is going on?

- everything. Nothing. I'm a freak. I'm a loser. I have nothing. I'm worth nothing. God will this never end?

- will what ever end? What???

- these fucking break downs. I just... nothing has changed... except I no longer make $100,000/year and I now have no home and no friends and no life. Way better. Awesome idea. Awesome.

- but...

- and now I don't get to smoke pot and I don't get to eat without guilt and I don't get to drink and I don't get to have sex with people I don't care about and I don't get to desperately love people that I shouldn't care about. I just sit here. All day long. Alone. On the internet. Where - also - no one really gives a shit if I live or die. And now I can't even fucking connect to the internet so I don't even have that any more. I am a shell of fucking worthless shit and I really don't know why I bother. Why am I here? What's the big idea? What ever made me think that I could... I don't know... can I change anything? Fuck. I don't know anymore. I just don't fucking know. And I don't care enough to let my fucking Miss Positivity side have a word because we all know she's full of shit, too, so fuck off and die already.

*****

- hmmm, yes, sorry about that. Lost it there for a bit. It bugs me that I go back to the same old thing over and over but whatchagonnado? I was feeling bad for myself with all the #FF bullshit on twitter -as per snoozually- and I took it out on me because, well, I... am... me... or something. I don't know. But I did know that it would be a seriously bad idea to drink tonight and downed a full bottle of wine. The sad part is I didn't even get to enjoy it... chatted with Sue for over an hour and then exploded in a fit of rage.

- blech. Go to bed.

An open letter to my beautiful boyfriend, Rob Pattinson

Hello my darling!

It's good to see you so often lately; I've missed you. I know the other women make you a little weary - they scream at you like they know you, speak to you like you care - but you know that, deep down, I really don't give a shit. Don't get me wrong, you are obviously the hottest man on the planet (that hot-nerd thing you do just fucks me up). But I don't need to know you. Actually, I don't want to know you. You exist in my fantasies and that's exactly where I want you to be.

There is something that I want you to know, though, because I see you out there with the screaming fans and adoring crowds. I want you to know that I fear for you, Rob. I fear for you.

It has happened again and again with young performers who rise to fame too quickly. They fall for the hype and forget why they are here. They develop destructive addictions - perhaps for entertainment or out of sheer boredom at first, but then they need it to cope; then to survive and then to die. They come to believe that they are the gods people try to make them out to be. They learn the hard way that they are merely human and fallible; they get in over their heads and come to need this adoration which has been bestowed on them.

You are living a fantasy life right now and I hope you are enjoying it but you need to keep your eyes open. You need to understand this fame that has exploded on you. You need to be strong in yourself to make it through intact. While these females are completely justified in their adoration of you, you need to understand what a shaky pedestal it is that they have put you on. And, like all things in life - good and bad - this, too, shall pass.

This passing will not be a reflection on you or your talent but a reflection on human nature. It is the way of the world that, as your fame shall rise, it shall also fall. It has to; it is as uncontrollable and as inevitable as the passing of time. And I think that, to some degree, you look forward to the calming of the craze so that you can get on with your career and get on with your life.

The important fact that these fans seem to miss is that this is your job. And it is a very difficult and demanding one. They believe that it is *you* coming into their living rooms and their bedrooms, they believe that they know you but all they know is their perception of you. They only know who they want you to be. And many of them don't seem to be able to grasp that. I hope you have someone in your life who really knows you, who loves you and supports you for who you are. I hope you come from a strong and supportive family. I hope you have friends who allow you to be yourself so that you can hold on to that person. I hope you always remember that this is what you do, not who you are.

Enjoy this fame, Rob. Squeeze every bit of joy and money and adoration and confidence and exposure that you can from it. I know that you have the talent that it takes for longevity and a solid acting career. And I think that you have the gumption to withstand the crap that comes along with it. If you don't, go get it - or run. Whatever you do, know that you make me want to touch myself in a way that no actor ever has. But also know that I haven't had sex in about 18 months so I'm feeling pretty slutty right now. Just, like, FYI or whatever. Tee hee.

I am sending this out into the universe with much love and best wishes for your future happiness - trust me, when you have true happiness, all the rest is just gravy.

Oh, and just one more thing, my sweetheart. Probably not the best time to scratch your ass. I'm just sayin'.

Kisses, Bef xxx

Odd? Who, me?

This might sound strange to you - and I say that because I got "man, you is fucked up" looks every time I've said it in the past - but I think life would be so much better if I could survive without sleep or food. I'll take an i.v. over a meal any day. I fucking *hate* food. Why? Just look what it's done to my poor body! And it kills me to go to bed... I'm unattached, no kids and I don't have a job and there's *still* not enough time in the day to do all the things I want to do. The irony of this statement? I've been fat and lazy since the womb. The irony of that statement? If I had better sleeping patterns and eating habits, I wouldn't be so fat and lazy, now would I? Oh, well. Whatchagonnado? ;-)

The problem with Twitter

I love Twitter. No, I L-O-V-E Twitter! How interesting it is to communicate with people all over the world. How amazing to know that someone in Ohio or Milan or Australia has the same sense of humour as I do. How fun to read a smart ass remark about someone else's day or perception of life in general. In my world, there is nothing more entertaining than a twisted mind. A.K.A. I am hooked.

Now here's what I don't like - and I have tweeted about this a few times. Why does it have to be all about the stars? And then with the frickin' lists?? Why did it have to become a competition? Or a buy one get one free deal?

Maybe it's like money and we think - for some strange reason - that whoever gets the most is a better person. Maybe it's like an orgasm and if I give you one, proper etiquette dictates that I should get one, too.

I thought the stars were a way to know that someone related with me, a way to say you made me laugh or keep up the good work (remember kindergarten?). I thought it was okay that sometimes I'll be funny, sometimes you'll be funny; that the guy over there will hit the nail on the head almost every time, the other will keep getting his thumb in the way. Isn't that life? Someone's got to tell the joke but there has to be someone to laugh, too, right? We ALL count.

Some people star every tweet that has already been starred. I'm sure their heart is in the right place but those stars mean nothing to me. That's like faking your orgasm. Don't get me wrong... if I get my orgasm, you can go ahead and fake yours all you want but, if you're going to just throw it away, why even bother? And, if you aren't going to hold out for the real thing, how will anyone ever know what really gets you off? (Note: this is also my philosophy on real orgasms. In case you were wondering.)

My dear Twitter friends, believe me when I say: it would be much more satisfying to me if you have a real orgasm, too. Let's get back to the pleasure, and forget the work.

Kisses, Bef

P.S. Gee, I wonder if this will get any stars.
P.P.S. Gee, I wonder how many people following me will dump my ass after reading this.
P.P.P.S. Gee, I wonder if they realize that it won't matter, I'll still tell you every lame thought that enters my head (my real friends think it's awesome that I have someone else to listen to my weird shit for a change).

Bad day, friend?

I sent a message to a fellow twit earlier. I could tell he was having a bad day and I wanted to reach out (as I always *want* but rarely *do*).

This was his reply:
"Thanks. Havin a shit day. But I been following ur story, so I know it's a big world fulla crap for many these days. Chin up, boobs out, eh?"

Is that what they see? It made me laugh a little because my first thought was 'I love my life'. Yeah, I have stresses... it makes things so much more interesting. I'm actually happy to have a little stress again; I'm so damn laid back now. Let's face it, if I didn't exaggerate that stress a little, I'd have nothing to say at all. The nice me is pretty easy to get along with. But a wee bit boring, I have to admit. Quite frankly, other than a bit of PMS last week, the roughest part of my life right now is a slow internet connection and procrastinating about finding a job... which is not really what I would consider a panic situation at this point in the game.

I bitch on Twitter because that's what you do on there. In the beginning I talked about how awesome life is and no one got it. It's the whining and bitching that is funny... no one wants to hear about the good stuff.

That's actually where my little "Miss Positivity" bit came from... because it was the good stuff that the voice inside my head said when something bothered me. But straightforward, it sounded all sunshine and roses (a.k.a. fake); it had to be presented sarcastically to be funny. So I still say it... I just put a different spin on it now.

Horoscope, Interpreted!

"Tuesday, Nov 17th, 2009 -- You are standing at a fork in the road and you must choose whether to take the difficult route or the easy one. On the surface, it seems like a straightforward decision, but the path before you is a winding one, obscuring your vision. No matter where you want to go now, you'll have a better chance of reaching your destination if you stick to the map. Ultimately, it's not about picking your level of difficulty; it's about simplifying your life."

________________________________

It was a bad day. Such is the journey. I was so ready to move out of Debra & Andrew's place. After one week... Well, closer to two. I read this horoscope and when it said to choose to take the difficult route or the easy one, I thought the difficult route would be to find a place of my own. I think I was wrong. I think the difficult route for me right now is to stay. To stick to the map.

I'm not good at living with people but it's not because they get in my way and crowd me. It's because I feel like I am in their way. I know I've still got a lot of growing to do, I know that there are still ghosts in there waiting for their turn to haunt me. But the difference is: the voice inside my head is now my best friend. That crazy bitch whore that made my life a living hell is now the most supportive person I know. It makes sense, though. We have to adapt to our circumstances - no one has ever "got" me, so I had to find a way to take care of it myself. It certainly takes a lot of pressure off my friend's backs.

This is how my head works:

A conversation with myself

- you have to stop making life decisions when you are having a bad day

- yeah but nobody loves me and I'm garbage. Look at me, sitting in the spare bedroom at my little sisters house, crying my eyes out because she didn't come up to talk to me when she came home. Visions of mom, much?

- you make it sound so simple but it's not. Yes, it's a bad day. You're tired and feeling under the weather and your emotions are...

- I'm pretty sure I'm faking the illness, like always

- you sat at home all day long and faked having a headache? So that pain around your eyes and forehead, that has your head in a vice is a figment of your imagination?

- no but I am exaggerating it

- for sympathy?

- more to set up my "not feeling well" story to get out of going to Andrea's party this weekend

- why?

- because I want to be alone

- you aren't alone enough???

- it's very difficult for me to live in someone else's home. I feel out of place and unwanted and in the way and a burden

- do they feel that way?

- probably. They would if they saw me right now

- do you not think that they love you and want to help you?

- I think that they love and want to help me in theory but the practise has become another story

- are those feelings coming from them? Or are they coming from you?

-

- do you hear them downstairs, laughing and joking around? Do you feel that you
would not be welcome

- yeah, sort of. I would be welcome if I was visiting but not so much if I was staying

- let's get back to that party... you are exaggerating feeling ill to get out of going to a party, correct? Why? Not why don't you want to go but why do you feel you have to fake sick?

- because I don't want to tell them why. Because I don't want to hurt their feelings by telling them how I feel

- how do you feel?

- I think we just did this part. Out of place, a burden.

- but why? how?

- there are so many rules. I don't like rules. I don't like constantly having to worry about stepping on someone's toes, doing something wrong. I always feel like I'm doing something wrong anyway so when there are so many restrictions it just stresses me out. If they go for the weekend and I stay, I will have a couple of days to just be without worrying what is expected of me

- what rules?

- about the laundry. About where to put my furniture. About eating too much. About doing something wrong. About using the internet too much. About saying something inappropriate. And I don't want to talk to her about it because then I will only be passing the burden onto her.

- this might be the problem.

- Cathy hated me when I lived with her. Tom hated me when I tried to be his friend. I drive my parents up the wall when I stay with them. What's going to make it different with her? I don't want to cause strife with her and Andrew. I know how it is for her because it was the same for me when I lived with Karl.

- that's your experience, not hers. That's enough for right now. Just you chill. Sit back, read your book and chill. Stop worrying that everyone isn't going to like you enough, stop worrying that you are doing it wrong. Yes, children learn what they live but adults get to choose what they will live. What will you live, Beverly? This is a choice.

Soulwaffle

I found this challenge on www.soulpancake.com

"Write an impassioned sonnet. (Remember: 14 lines of 10 syllables written in iambic pentameter with an ABAB CDCD EFEF GG rhyme scheme.) Post you opus here."

So, I tried it. This is what I wrote. It's okay... no Willy Shakes or nothin' but whatchgonnado?

********************************************

Now that my soul breathes with passion again
And my spirit explodes from within me
I'll speak of the pain that poisoned me then
And of the person it caused me to be

A lifetime of shame, of tears and sorrow
Hiding behind a wall of indifference
Never able to think of tomorrow
When surviving today didn't make sense

A prisoner of my mind, my private hell
Believing that I'd never be set free
Suddenly life pushed, I stumbled and fell
And on the ground I discovered the key

Reach out for help, find a way to survive
The best part of life is being alive

Horoscope

Saturday, Nov 14th, 2009 -- You may feel as if circumstances are pushing you into a corner and just when it appears hopeless, the lightning of awareness strikes and changes the parameters of the game. No longer are you restrained by an old pattern, for you suddenly see yourself in a different light. Paradoxically, the situation may remain the same, but now at least you have new options to explore before you decide what to do next.

Horoscope

Friday, Nov 13th, 2009 -- Although you may be dealing with ghosts from your past, they are not likely scary enough today to prevent you from banishing them back to the netherworlds from which they came. Actually, your dreams lure you to the edge of excitement, even if you still have a few details to work through now before you can make them real. Don't let fear get in the way of the exciting possibilities that are right around the next corner.

"That just sounds like more fruit talk"

Oh, I hurt! Ache. Fell down the stairs today. It was funny - I was in such a good mood this morning and I remember thinking how I always feel like this now. But I can't always feel this good so maybe I just conveniently forget when I don't feel this good. Fell down the stairs and sure enough a little while later the bitch came back. Not really, just the elation was gone.

I didn't HURT myself but I hurt. My body was jarred is all. The irony is I am - what? - three days into my exercise habit. I won't let this stop me - it's just going to have to hurt inside the muscles and outside. I was just lying in bed and feeling so hungry. In the middle of planning a trip to the kitchen I was lying there with my hand on my hip and realized I can't even FEEL my hip bone. It's not there. Kitchen trip cancelled. This morning I weighed 223.9 lbs. I have something that I need to prove (illustrate) here.

"Silence is golden but duct tape is silver"

Well, it's my last night on the road. I'll be at Debra & Andrew's tomorrow evening. Pretty exciting!

The drive has been fun. Took longer than I thought - 7 days instead of 5 - but such is life. Did lots of singing, took lots of pics out the window as I drove by. Didn't get out much, but that's totally in character!

So, what comes next? Find a job. Find a pad. Get working out. Get some friends. The possibilities! Ah, the possibilities!! My favourite!!