1:10 p.m. - 2005-03-08
I like to judge people's decisions and behaviors and when I find them lacking, dissect them to other people.
I have a big ass.
I have B cup boobies.
My hair is too short.
My hair is too red.
I talk like a hick with a great vocabulary. (okay, the vocabulary part I like, it's the Arkansas accent that just KILLS me yall!)
My teeth are not perfectly symmetrical.
Sometimes I have a really shitty attitude.
I have a really, really fucking bad temper.
My skin is starting to get little fine lines around my eyes and mouth. (Fuck dude! I'm only 31!!)
I curse too much goddamnit to hell!
I don't believe in god.
I am currently sitting on the fence between Betty Crocker-dom and my old wild child persona and I can't seem to find a good mesh of the two or decide one way or the other. I mean, aprons and cookies or tequila shots and tongue kisses in the back of a smoky bar? I can't decide between the two, and I can't seem to make both girls co-mingle peacefully in the same body.
I don't 'give it up' to Groovn-husband often enough, but I can't seem to find the time or the energy.
I'm not rich. Bitch.
Sometimes I don't spend enough time with my beautiful, 7 year old baby girl.
I feel guilty for not wanting to be a breeder and push out a passel of kids until my uterus falls the fuck out already! I have ONE child, I only want ONE child.
I like to eat too much junk food.
I don't work out NEARLY ENOUGH!!
I can't seem to lose any more weight.
I'm a size 10, longing to be a size 7 again and that really makes me angry at myself for not being happy with who I am.
I dropped out of college with a full scholarship and never went back.
I am an insurance agent. I'm the fucking 'man' and I swore I'd always be this free spirited, happy go luck person! I'm a nine to fiver with a house in a subdivision and a privacy fence. Rarely do I get naked and never do I smoke weed and rock out to Led Zeppelin any more.
I have more business suits than ripped up cut off Levi's.
And that makes me really, really sad.