Things

I’m in a bit of a down mood today. Things are difficult. Things that I can’t really talk about on this blog, you know. Things.

I wish there were walk-in appointments with counselors. I just want to go sit on somebody’s couch who really cares and cry my eyes out. But I haven’t had much luck with that. Usually they want me to do x or y to solve my problems and no matter how much I look at x and contemplate y, I can’t bring myself to do either. So I just abuse you, dear internet, and hopefully you’ll look at the pretty pictures and not feel too jipped.


Because no matter how sad I feel today I still have Paris! I’m sure you are wondering… what will you do when you don’t have Paris to look forward to? Oh don’t worry. I’ve got a slew of things I’m looking forward to. Paris is just the tip of the iceberg! In spite of my down days, it’s great to be alive.

Illustration Friday: Fragile

Illustration Friday: Fragile

I’m not sure how I’m going to explain this one. I’m not sure I even understand it myself. I thought about illustrating some delicate breakable figurines or some super ornate glass knick knacks… but it just seemed like too much work. I’m a lazy illustrator.

The other interpretation that came quickly to mind is my fragile ego. I’ve thought about this a lot (cause it’s all about me all the time here at SAJ) and I’m not sure how to broach this subject.

All my life people have been nice to me. Oh the Pain! Just kidding.

I’m not sure why though. It’s puzzling. Do I have invisible writing all over my face that says “I can’t take it”? I really don’t want to complain because I think I’d run crying to the hills if anybody started now. But it’s a strange thing. I’ve rarely gotten made fun of or been the target of someone bullying me. Sure there were a couple of times in middle school when the boys made fun of my homemade jumpers and my hopelessly un-cool saddle shoes but I was never really picked on. I don’t remember ever really getting teased by my family either. It’s almost like everybody just knows not to. I think the worst nick name my brother ever called me was “thunder thighs” and he only called me that because it was the meanest thing he could think of in response to me calling him “cupcake”. Sure I’ve always been self conscious about being pear shaped and having thighs of a speed skater but nobody ever calls me a lard ass or fat cow or even makes any comments about maybe I shouldn’t be having that whipped cream on top of my mocha.

I think the reason I’ve never been the butt of jokes is that people just know I can’t take it. Even in this blog I’m blown away by how nice everyone is in the comments. You go to any other blog and people really dish it out. Is it because I’m not the sarcastic type? Is it because I don’t use the f-word? Does that make me a sissy? I don’t know the answer and I don’t know if I could handle the answer if it was given to me. But it does make me think sometimes. I’m thankful that I’ve been protected from the cruelty of the world. I just wonder why I’m so lucky?

So anyway, don’t everybody start insulting me now. But maybe a few zingers now and then I could take.