written on Saturday, Apr. 19, 2003 at 12:51 p.m.
I think I first learned that being "chubby" made you a freak when I was five. That, of course, was the year I started kindergarden. Up to that point, I don't think I really paid much attention to it. I was bigger than everyone else, and that's just how it was.
In kindergarden I was introduced to the fabulous world of name calling and tormenting. Suddenly the "baby fat" my grandmother talked about {and didn't seem so bad!} was getting me called "tubby" and "chubb-o". Probably a bunch of other names I care not remember.
For the first two years of school, I basically convinced myself I had no friends and everyone hated me. I'd cry and beg mom not to send me to school where people were mean to me.
It wasn't until second grade that I learned the defense mechanism: Imitation. Yes, I may have been a chubb-o, but I could damn well ACT like the normal people and that had to help.
I began to imitate everything about my friends. From the way they spoke, to the way they held their pencils. Even the way they chewed their foods. Everything they thought was cool, I thought was cool. Their favorite color = my favorite color.
I did that consistently unil around 8th or 9th grade. That's when I became best friends with two boys, and imitating boys wasn't like imitating girls. I sorta began to form my own identity and stopped copying other people. Got my very own shiny new mannerisms.
Although I don't "imitate" other people anymore, my personality is still very transient. Especially my style. In my closet, I have clothing to cover every possible dressing mood. One day I'm decked in fanshionista-esque stuff. My "high maintenance" look, as a co-worker put it. The next I'm full on punk-goth, wearing lots of black and funky jewelry. I can also cover soccer mom, sporty chick, sex pot, and so on.
I bounce between these moods pretty regularly. Sometimes nothing in particular sets me off, and other times I'll read, hear or see something I love that puts me in a certain frame of mind.
I like to think I'm just very sensitive to stimuli, and respond rapidly.
Or I blame it on being a Gemini. Split personality and whatnot.
Gads. I hate it when you get to this point of an entry and realize you have no, well, point. This is what happens in my brain. Thoughts form, but they never EVER conclude. I feel like I'm back in high school writing a paper and should just sum it all up with "And that's why I'm a weirdo."
So yeah. [/commentary on my dressing personality]
* * *
Sometimes skeery dreams serve a good purpose. Today, I was having this yucky Lord of the Flies meets Die Hard dream, and woke up in the middle of it. Since I was too disturbed to go back to sleep, I got up and had almost 3 hours to goof off until I have to go to work.
Otherwise I'd still be rushing to get to work on time. Even at 3:30 pm.
Love,
