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| ten things I hate about me |
Some days I hate being me. Today is one of those days. I sat at Starbucks with my Grande Pumpkin Spice Latte and read a book I bought yesterday at a book fair – four books for $1. The guy gave me a fifth as a freebie. I started it last night and have read over 200 pages already. I am completely pulled in and wonder whether I am deluding myself to think I can ever write a novel. I sat by a window and every so often looked up from the book and watched the people walk by. It is raining in New York today - a gross day that rendered the blow dry and flat iron of my hair a total waste of time.
I don’t know why I hate being me today – maybe because I have absolutely nothing to do but sit around feeling sorry for myself. I was supposed to go to Boston this weekend to visit friends but we postponed due to the weather and I didn’t have much time to make alternate plans. My friend Anne invited me to happy hour last night but they were going to a trendy hotel bar across town and it was raining out and a bad hair day. I was wearing weather-appropriate clothes (i.e. nothing very fashionable or particularly body flattering) and knew I wouldn’t feel “pretty” enough to have a good time. I was hoping for an Irish pub or some other low-key venue. I almost met my friend Shanna for last minute drinks at a regular ‘ole tavern, but she still had to shower and get ready and I knew if I didn’t meet her within the next 30 minutes, I would lose all desire. Instead, I went to the gym - nice Friday night – but I have no one to blame but myself since I turned down the other offers I received. I guess I should feel good knowing that I at least had other options. Honestly, I had no desire to be social. I was feeling sorry for myself. I was feeling rejected and ugly and unworthy but knew that sitting in front of the television set with a pint of ice cream or a pizza pie would make me feel uglier and that a workout would make me feel better. It did, but I woke up feeling equally ugly and unworthy this morning.
My dad is still haunting me from his prison cell. Another collection agency has been bombarding me with phone calls. I ignored them at first but knew they wouldn’t go away until I faced them head on so I returned the call yesterday. I informed the representative that the phone number he was calling was not and never was my father’s phone number. I further informed him that my father was in prison for stealing my identity. The representative said he would make a note of it and stop calling me. I wasn’t expecting it to go that smoothly but I am crossing my fingers that the phone calls will, in fact, stop. On top of that, my mother is still in touch with my dad and claims that he has changed and is so very sorry for what he has done to me. I am not sure if she is referring to being a dead beat or stealing from me but I couldn't care less. I am a very forgiving person but I am not an idiot. The man is close to 70 years old. He has not changed and never will. But, just for laughs, let’s say he has changed - as Walter Cronkite used to say (according to Alan) – “too little, too late”. I wish him no ill will but I want nothing to do with him ever again. I told my mother she must respect my decision and stop trying to play mediator because there is nothing to mediate. We’ll see how that goes.
Ok, what else do I hate about me? I hate that I flinch. I hate that I think so much. I hate that I can read the writing on the wall but find so much trouble letting the meaning of the words sink in. I hate that I am so incredibly insecure and self-conscious. Sure, I have moments of feeling like “the shit” and in those moments, I am completely care-free and happy and confident, but those moments are fleeting and something always happens to make me shake my head and wonder what the hell is wrong with me. I hate that I tend to fall for men who are emotionally unavailable to me even when at first they seem so different. And I hate that I always blame it on myself and wonder what I could have done to make things different. And I hate that I keep making bad choices over and over again. Even with the best intentions and signs indicating that this time will be different, the outcome is always the same. I hate that I AM partly to blame for my failed relationships or relationships than never even make it to “relationship” status. I hate that, although I am not emotionally “unavailable”, I don’t attach easily either. I hate that it takes so long for me to trust. I hate that I have so far chosen to give my trust to the wrong people because it only reinforces my innate distrust. I hate that I can’t seem to get it right. I hate that I flinch. (Yes I know, I mentioned that already.) I hate that I never seem to get a second chance to make it right. I hate that it takes me so long to make up my mind and once I do, the choice is no longer available.
I really hope that around the curve is another moment where I will feel like “the shit” because I’d like to love being me - at least for a little while. I'd also love my next post to be entitled “ten things I love about me”.
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Posted by meredith on 2008-09-27 17:03:19 | Rating: | Views: 299
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