Can You Help It?

First off, let me just say that I am a psychic...I will get back to this later.

My brain likes it when things circle around...as was the case for my two "MUST DO" art journal pages this week.  It was totally unintentional, and they may only connect in my head, so, as I tend to do, I may have to explain my thought process.

The prompt for this week's JOURNAL 52 is to "incorporate the alphabet into your page in some way"

"I put them together like I know I should, but I still don't know if I say what I mean."

The alphabet prompt gave me pause for a while...the only thing I knew I wanted to do was to incorporate two letter stencils that Jackie, my honey, sent me in a care package a while back.  So all I did was to grind up a little bit of Inktense blocks, add water and splatter with a paintbrush over the stencils...you can see at the top of the page, that stencil came out well...I covered over the other stencil with the face...but it was glorious too, if I do say so myself!  

Then I sat there and stared at the letters while they dried...they were being very mysterious as to what direction they wanted to go...so I stopped staring at them and went on to do my Documented Life spread.

For DOCUMENTED LIFE (DLP), the prompt was to "add a face to your page".  Here's where I tell you that my psychic ability has been confirmed, because Saturday as I was walking to my computer to look up the DLP prompt, I thought to myself, "You know what would be funny?  If the prompt this week was faces..."  And then it was...  I know I draw faces all the time, but I swear to you this is the first time I have ever thought 'yeah, the prompt's gonna be faces'.  So there you go, I'm a psychic now...off to play the lotto and whatnot...

...but first, here's my spread:

Totally a psychic...
Also, this picture is the most true to color.

You want to know something weird?  I do faces ALL the time...but when the prompt was to do a face, I got a little nervous about it...what a dork!

Anyway, I finally just shut up and started drawing, using THIS girl as a reference.  I've actually used this picture twice now (I can't find the other piece though...perhaps I didn't post her? ...that's weird...)...I don't know what it is about this girl, but I like her.  

"You can cut all the flowers but you can't stop Spring from coming"
-Pablo Neruda

Everything but the writing was already on this page (it's from a Reflections paper pad called Regent Street).  I found that Pablo Neruda quote, and it immediately made me think of love.  I don't know what the poem is actually about (I can't even find it in full), but to me, it's talking about love...as all of Neruda's poems tend to do in my eyes.  

That quote brings to mind the helpless inevitability of some things.  No matter that we deny them, twist them, try to change them or uproot them, there are some things we cannot help but feel.  

And I'm no good with things that are like that.  I like my reasons.  I like rational thoughts.  I think that most things must have a logical explanation, and if I can find that explanation, I can change how I feel.  I can be in control again and put those things to rest.

But the truth is, that's not always so.  That's what the journaling on the page is about.  

"I can't help it...you make me want to be a much better person."

I've got this situation going on that I can't logic away.  

Ugh...feelings...  

There's a person who I feel pulled to...strongly...uncontrollably...inexplicably.  And no matter how much I distance myself mentally, physically, emotionally, I find myself getting snapped back by forces unseen...  (ooh, so mysterious *eye roll*)  It's like sliding down a steep hill, no matter how much I grasp at things to slow the progress, gravity keeps pushing me down and I can't stop.  I can't get a foothold to climb my way back up again.

This connects back to the Alphabet girl at the beginning, because of what I journaled on her page: "I put them together like I know I should, but I still don't know if I say what I mean."  Just a few posts ago, I was talking (out my butt, apparently) about being upset that people in my life couldn't explain why they loved me, even when I needed to hear it.  And now here I am saying something similar...I can tell you why I like this person, but I can't explain why I care so freaking much.  I can't explain why I feel like I do.  

The Alphabet girl is the thought that I talk so much but how much of it do I really mean?  Maybe I'm just a person who has to think out loud, and I say things that I'm not quite sure about in order to find out if I'm right or not...like a question I need someone else to answer too.

We put letters together to make words and words to make sentences to try to describe something in a way that someone else can understand.  I do that with my thoughts and feelings.  I try to string together these bits and pieces but sometimes I use the wrong letter and, in the end, I end up with something that I didn't quite mean in that way.    I try and I try again and suddenly realize I can't finish telling the story because there is no word to tell you exactly what I wanted to say.  Speech is limited.  So am I.

There are things, I suppose, that I can never put into words...things that I cannot justify or explain in any way other than this is how I feel.  A friend of mine likes to say "you can't help the way you feel".  I don't know if that's right...I want to say it must be true, because here I am telling you this little brain fart that seems like it agrees with that statement.  But I wonder if it's kind of a cop out.  Are feelings really these little monsters that we have no control over?  Wild beasts that we will never tame?  Or do we just say that because it's easier to assume it?  We can use it as an excuse and not have to try to change...is that the case?

As you may know, I'm a little new to the feelings game...so maybe you have some thoughts that could help me?  Can we control our feelings?  How?  Can you have feelings and as long as you never act on them, is that ok?  Or are we just biding our time until the right (or wrong, depending on how you look at it) situation happens and we can make our move?  Disney movies have us believe that we should follow our hearts, no matter what...but wouldn't it be a good thing to take the brain along for the ride too?

Things I Love and Things I Notice

The prompt for DOCUMENTED LIFE (DLP) this week was to "Fill the page with numbers that relate to your week (e.g 4 trips to the grocery store)."  Can I just tell you how much anxiety this filled me with?

First, I hate...HATE...lists.  And no matter what you tell me, this prompt wanted me to make a list.  Not only that, but this prompt wanted me to tabulate various things that occurred in my week.  This may not seem like it should be a big deal, but about the only thing I do is go to work, eat and make art.  There's not a lot going on.  PLUS...keeping track of things!?!  I'm lucky if I remember what year it is...  There was a lot of resistance happening for me concerning this prompt...

So, in order to break it down to my level, I decided to number various things that happened in a single day this week.  ...and then I made up fictitious numbers that corresponded to the amount times I feel like something happened:

1 day in numbers at age 31

For instance, 800 is the number of times I thought or felt something completely inappropriate.  But out of those 800 times, 376 is the number of times I actually said the inappropriate thing out loud.  As you can see, I say a lot of horrible things, but not near as many as I think...

This picture is the most true to color...I don't know why the other pics look so dingy...

Everything about this prompt was troublesome, including the background, which is why the #4 on the above page stands for the number of times I COMPLETELY overhauled this spread...

Check out that sweet "2" from the "25" though, it's rocking my socks off!

The one thing I actually enjoyed about this spread was practicing my lettering (or would it be numbering?)...I was pretty happy with the way some of the numbers turned out...especially the 2 in 25 in the above picture!

"Times I questioned my sanity in a given hour."

I glued down my tags on one end only, so that they would flip up and reveal the writing that went along with them on the reverse side.  As you can see in the above picture, 25 is the number of times I questioned my sanity in a given hour on that particular day.  I was being conservative...

After I finished doing this spread, I realized that what I should have counted was the various art related things that happen in my week...like how many faces did I make, how many different pages I completed, or how many different colors/media I used.  But it's all over now, and here we are...  Maybe one day in the distant future, when I've grown as a person, I will have the patience and memory to keep tabs on that info...but it is not today for sure! :)

The prompt for JOURNAL 52 (J52) this week was "Gratitude-include something you are thankful for on your page."  There was actually a similar prompt for DLP a little while ago, which you can see HERE.  

I think I've mentioned it before, but I have a hard time with the word 'gratitude'.  It's one of my many foibles, I'm sure, but there's just something about that word that sets my teeth on edge.  I suppose genuine gratitude isn't the problem for me...that's a good thing.  But for some reason, when I hear the word, it makes me think of lazy people.  (SO NOT saying that truly gratitudinous people are lazy)  The word just reminds me of people who sit back and wait for things to happen instead of getting up and working towards good things for themselves...and then when something does just happen by chance to them, they say 'oh, I'm so grateful to the cosmic space turtle who made this happen'.    I honestly don't know why my brain chooses to associate those two things, but it does.  Maybe I feel like real gratitude can only be achieved through hard work.  Like when your parents told you as a kid...if anyone was raised like me..."You'll appreciate it more if you have to work for it."

I've noticed that I say I'm glad about things a lot.  I imagine it's my substitute word for gratitude.  I'm grateful when all my hard work pays off...I'm glad when something out of my control happens.  As in, I'm grateful that I got a raise at work (cause I TOTALLY deserve it), but I'm glad it's gonna be fall soon (no personal control over that).  I don't know...all I can say is I told you I was weird...

At any rate, I came up with something I am both glad about and grateful for to use in this week's J52 page:

"A good long laugh"
I really liked this as a sketch, but when I went over it in pen, there was an incident with the eyebrows...
Maybe it adds to the comedy of the page...the eyebrow situation...yeesh...

There is just something to be said for a really good belly laugh.

The older I get, the harder it is for me to get that real deal, from the heart, eyes watering laugh.  I must have become more cynical or something.  I'll give things a little chuckle, and that's the end of it.  The weird thing is I laugh all the time...well giggle.  I hate to say it, but I tend to be a giggler.   But it's been a while since I REALLY went all in on a laugh.

I'm good at getting other people to laugh though, and I suppose that's better than laughing myself.  I made someone laugh so hard this week that he had to crouch down against a wall because he couldn't breathe and tears were streaming down his face.  I am a merciless clown!

I think my problem is I get bored easily.  I like to figure people out, but when I do, a lot of the thrill is gone.  (How horrible does this make me sound?  Really stinking horrible...)  I think I've been around the people I know now for so long they have no good comedy for me anymore.  I know what these people are going to say, down to the point where I can mimic them word for word.  I know it's my problem...there's not anything wrong with the people in my life...I like them quite a lot!  It's just...frustrating at times.

I recently came back into contact with someone who hasn't spoken to for a long time.  This person was at one point, very important to me, but there was a rift in our friendship.  I really enjoy this person, because he says things I don't expect.  That's a rare commodity for me!  I think I've always been attracted to people who are...outside the norm.  I find people on the fringes of life to be very interesting.  I like people who challenge my thinking...who surprise me and keep surprising me.  I've been laughing a lot since coming back into contact with this person.  It's been nice.

I'm trying to remember to temper myself.  It's another one of my personal quirks...that when I'm in, I'm all in.  The past doesn't matter.  The future doesn't matter.  The only thing that matters is how I feel right now.  The problem is that the past HAS happened.  The future, whatever it may be, WILL happen...and the past repeats itself so very often.  I'm guilty of forgetting all that once I've gotten my interest peaked.  

I don't like being fooled, and I especially don't want to be fooled twice.  But I want to believe that people are capable of change...especially in this instance...  The crap part for me is that I know I'm an all or nothing kind of girl.  It's just no use in telling me not to get too attached...I have never yet been able to follow through on that advice.  

What do you think?  Do people change?  Should I give this re-budding friendship another go or just cut it off before I get carried away?  Any words of wisdom for a girl in need?

Dish

The prompt for this week's JOURNAL 52 was "Favorite Foods"...and liberties were taken with this one...LIBERTIES!!!

Here's what I did:

"Whatever you cook"
"Boy! What a swell dish"

I blatantly copied this week's page from an image I saw on Pinterest...I've had this gal pinned forever!  ...I'm so happy I finally got to use her!!!

I couldn't find anything about the original artist, so I can't give credit where it's due...if you know who it is, please let me know!  I really adore her so much:

The original...wish I could find the original artist's name/info to share!

The only thing I added to it was "Whatever you cook", and that's what I'm going with as my favorite food at the moment.  I work til late in the evening, so when I get home, I'm strongly opposed to cooking...so I don't.  There's just me and my husband, and he's fully capable of feeding himself, so I just plop down in my studio and occasionally eat slices of American cheese if I get too hungry.  ...I recognize that this is solid laziness, but I'm comfortable with that...

The silly part about it is that I actually like to cook...or at least I used to.  But I got out of the habit of it (and have no desire to get back into it) so I don't cook anymore.  I also only wash my laundry...and I don't vacuum ever.  I'm basically just here to look good...

I wish you could have heard my husband's reaction to this page...which was something like "Is she only wearing an apron?!?  ...That can't be sanitary."  I think the full effect of the pin-up girl is lost on him...

What's Left Over

The prompt for DOCUMENTED LIFE (DLP) this week was to "Use your under paper in a creative way."  In case you don't know, "under paper" is the paper you use so you don't get your desk/table/work surface all shmutz up with paint/spray ink/etc.  

The important words in that last sentence are you and your...because I don't really use under papers...  I just let my desk get all shmutzy...that way, later on, before I leave for work, my arms are celebration colored from all the spray inks that never quite wipe away completely...

In fact, I had to search high and low in my studio and I only came up with two under papers...

BUT...one of them ended up matching the opposite page in my DLP journal pretty well.  This was a completely unplanned event, so HUZZAH for serendipitous moments!

Here's what I ended up with:

Ta-da...

I found the quote on Pinterest, but apparently it's from a book/movie called "Captain Corelli's Mandolin".  I'm not sure which it's from, as I have never read/watched it, but according to Pinterest, it's from one or the other or possibly both...

Meh.

Though not my favorite face I've ever done, I do like her because she puts me in mind of Eilen Jewell, a singer/songwriter who I love, love, LOVE.  I didn't set out to make that happen, but when I finished the girl, that's who I immediately thought of.

Do they look a little alike, or is it all in my head?

I think I may have linked to one of her songs before, but here's another one that I can't seem to get enough of:

Sigh.  So melancholy and fantastic...I love it...

"Love itself is what's left over when being in love had burned away."

How fantastic is that scrapbook paper???  It's from a paper pack by DCWV called 'The Garden Tea Party'.  I find it EXTREMELY difficult to use because it's already so gorgeous...I always cringe a little when I do use it because I just want to stare at it lovingly and caress it and then put it safely away from my messiness.  I think this is my problem with all the scrapbook paper I have...I like it so much I don't want to use it...  And then I see more pretty papers and I must have those as well...and it leads to me having two huge shelves of scrapbook paper sitting there collecting dust...  Since space is at a premium in my studio,  I'm going to have to start knuckling down and forcing myself to use it more often.  I know this...but I still couldn't bring myself to cover up any of the focal image on this page.  

I think it worked out ok in this instance; the quote is enough.  That one little sentence is very profound, and, in my mind, the simple and sweet image contrasts well with the heavy words.  

This is one of those sentences I think everybody should pay attention to...or at least one that I wish I would have read as a young person.  I don't know if I would have appreciated it then though.

Only recently have I started to understand the expression about loving someone, but not being in love with them.  I guess, for me, it means being concerned for someone's future, but not wanting to be involved in that future...you want good things for a person, but don't want to be one of those good things.  *sigh*  It's hard to explain...

The quote from the journal page is like that too.  I don't know that I would have understood what it meant as a young person...not really.  When you're young, you have this idea that love will always be that initial, exciting, butterflies-in-your-stomach feeling...the one where everything the other person does is adorable and endearing.  But the truth is, real love isn't like that...or at least not often.  Real love is trudging through the muck together.  Real love is when those cute habits (Amy is so talkative, how sweet!) turn into annoying ones (Dear lord, does she ever shut up?!?).  Real love is when you can't stand listening to the other person for one more minute but you don't strangle them.  And yes, occasionally you still get butterflies in your stomach, but real love is getting from the moment of butterflies to the next moment of butterflies, and sometimes those moments are few and far between.  Real love is hard...and nobody seems to tell you that when you need to hear it most. 

Sometimes, when my husband tells me he loves me, I ask why.  And his response is "I don't know, I just do."  Every.Single.Time.  And I get so, so irritated.  Maybe it goes back to my former lack of emotions, to the days when I was only logical.  If you love me, there has to be a reason, there has to be something you can put your finger on and count and explain.  Why do you love me and not someone some other girl?  If you love me, why doesn't everyone love me?  And it bothers me that he can't come up with one stinking little reason.

  But maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe love is not like that for him.  Maybe he really doesn't know why.  

Sadly, that way of thinking is one I don't yet seem to be ready to understand.  Because if you asked me why I love someone, I could give you reasons.  I could explain to you that they make me laugh and they are kind and a million other reasons that make them different from anyone else.  Maybe what I'm looking for is the million reasons why I'm different.

I suppose that's a bit unfair.  As time goes by, I realize that there are people I find myself inexplicably drawn to.  Sure, I could name off a few reasons, but not enough to satisfy the question...not enough to explain why I care so deeply.  In that way, I suppose I'm not being fair to my husband when I try to force him to answer...

Love must come from a place so deep in our subconscious that we can't quite grasp it...like trying to remember a dream, or a word that's on the tip of your tongue but you just can't spit it out.

People are made of minutia, and I've found that there is a very thin line between the people you care for and the ones you don't.  Meaning I might love someone because they're funny, but I don't love someone else because they're not funny in the right way...  The differences between people are sometimes so small that we can't calculate them exactly, we only know that the differences are there.  Something you find endearing in one person, a quality that works well with all the other little details about them, may be a quality that you hate in someone with a different set of details.

As I get told, on a relatively regular basis, I think too much.  A friend at work likes to remind me that sometimes things just are the way they are and that's all...no reason to question, because facts are facts.  But, as I remind my friend, my brain doesn't work that way.  It would be a lot easier for me if it did.  Despite all the reasons that make it frustrating, my unquenchable brain thirst is one of the things that make me who I am...whether people find it annoying or endearing is up to them.  In combination with all my other qualities, it's one of my million reasons why I'm different.

Let's Get the Shovels

The prompt for this week's Journal 52 page was "Friendship".

I was very inspired by THIS PIECE from Michelle Mathey.  (FYI, her blog is called Pigment of My Imagination which is such a great name!)  I really loved the square of watercolor on the page and how she worked over it...so stinking AWESOME!  So I spent a good part of one of my evenings making watercolor squares (and squares with my Inktense pencils as well)...  I love this look so much I may have to make a dedicated journal just for the this type of page...  I really do adore it!

So then I was scrolling through Pinterest, searching for a good friendship related quote, still not sure exactly what direction I wanted to go, when I came across this:

Hehehe...hilarious...

And then I had a direction...

"I know exactly what you're thinking..."

I thought it might be too incriminating to actually put the shovel bit on the page...but you know the truth...

It really is fun to have those people in your life whom you can share a look with...where you know exactly what the other person is thinking.  It doesn't necessarily mean 'get the shovel'...it could be about that hilarious joke from two weeks ago...it could mean 'did you see that hot guy over there?'...but whatever it is, you and your friend know without a doubt what the look means.  It's one of the best parts of having a close friend.

So my page is dedicated to fantastic wordless conversations between really good friends...and perhaps, to a lesser extent, a silent homage to shovels...

I'm not quite sure...

A Pirate's Life For Me?

For the first time in a long time,  I made a spread that has very little meaning to me!  

Most of my art comes from somewhere inside and I end to splatter my emotions on the page...but not so this week for my Documented Life spread!

The prompt was to use a fortune cookie fortune and I ended up having only one on hand!  

Here's my spread:

Acrylic and a tad of a black micron...

The fortune kind of backed me into a corner...or so I thought while doing the spread...

"A pirate's life for me?

That has to be the tiniest pirate ship ever!  'Tis a dainty wee boat, matey!

"Boats and water are in your future.  Have fun!"
Her hair and eye are both done with metallic paints, so I enjoy the little bit of shiny in my journal.

The really crazy thing about it is that water really is in my future!  

In September my mom and me are headed to the beach for a little getaway.  But for some reason,  that didn't come to mind when I found the fortune, so I ended up with the pirate girl instead...  I can't believe the beach trip didn't immediately pop into my head when I saw my fortune...I've been thinking about this as my "happy place" that I go to when I am half a second away from stabbing someone with a paperclip!  ...so you know I am thinking about it a lot!

But no.  The pirate girl came out instead.  That's ok.  I like her pretty well, and I don't think I have a pirate anywhere else in any of my journals...so she'll do!

The most surprising thing to me is that I could not get this girl to circle around to a mental or emotional connection.  No specific interest in pirates, no song, no quote, no thought behind it...even the visual of the page itself doesn't produce any real reaction for me...  That hasn't happened for a such a long time...I don't know if that's ever happened!  (I'm really good at making everything about me apparently! Hehehe...)

I even tried to reason out some sort of subconscious reason I picked the pirate...traveling, freedom from convention/being a rebel, being a bit mischievous...but nope...NOTHING!  She's just a pirate and I have no feelings for her one way or the other...which, as you know if you keep up with my blog, is pure insanity for me...

Maybe that's a good thing, my meaningless pirate gal...maybe it means I had, for at least one day, a taste of 'normal'...where nothing was over thought, over analyzed, or overtly consuming...  It's an odd feeling, let me tell you!

Do you tend to have mental/emotional connections to your art like me?  Or do you make your amazing art in order to bring more beauty into the world, without having to have a reason for what you're creating?

Good Words and Bad Words

Let me tell you a little story:

Once upon a time, there was a young girl.  She was a very nice girl, despite her flaws. But she never saw that.  Perhaps she had been cursed, but for some reason or another, she could not believe the people in her life that said they loved her.  Instead of believing them, she had to believe the unkind people in her life.  The ones who said she was not all that good.  The ones who said she might be smart, but she would never be pretty.  Worst of all, the ones who said she was never loved nor would anyone ever love her.

One day, the girl got sick.  The doctors didn't know why she got sick, but she was.  And when she got sick, the girl began to change.  Her body started melting away.  She could see the change.  Other people could see the change too.  And all those people, the ones who said she wasn't pretty and that she would never be loved, began to see her in a different light.  Perhaps, they thought, they had been wrong...maybe this girl was worth something after all.  But what they couldn't see was that this sickness made the girl mean.  She didn't want their praise.  She wanted to punish them.  She wanted to punish everyone who had ever lied and said they loved her.  And now, in this melted body, she felt like she could.  But a black heart can't tell the difference between lies and the truth, so she punished everyone she knew.  In the end, even herself.

And then one day, out of the blue, the girl got better.  She wasn't sick anymore.  And, over time, her body came back and with it, the good bits of her heart.  And this girl had to live with her regret and the consequences of all the things she had ever done.  She lives with them still, down to this very day.

Me circa the year 2000.

Why did I tell you this sad little story?  Because it's true...it's the truth about a part of my past, and I had to tell you, so that I could explain my page for this week's JOURNAL 52 prompt, "Positive Words":

"Hot as Hell"

You see, I am a fluffy kind of gal...I almost always have been.  With the exception of a few years in my late teens/early 20s, when I lost more than 100 lbs in less than a year with no explanation whatsoever.  You can see my bout of skinny in the picture above.  In fact, I even got thinner than that...never a stick, but, for me, super skinny.  And the story I told you is true, I wasn't a very nice person when I was that size.  I'm not saying that all skinny people are bad, just that I was at the time.

About a year ago, I took my "skinny Amy" picture to work to show a lady in my office...people apparently need proof in order to believe that I had ever been a thin mint...  And the amount of shock displayed over said picture, led to other people wanting to see the picture...  Oh so many people were filled with surprise and disbelief that day...

Now, come back to the present with me.  Earlier this week, someone at work, who had not been there a year ago, mentioned the picture to me, saying: "I heard you used to be skinny..."x" said you were hot as hell!"

And, because everyone likes to be told they're attractive to others, this made me very happy...

But the more I thought about my alleged hotness, the sadder I got.  I was sad because these people see someone who used to be attractive...not a person who's currently attractive.  And nobody likes to feel ugly.

And then I thought about it some more.  And I got angry.  Because I remembered what I acted like then.  I was, by my standards anyway, a pretty horrible person.  Being thin gave me a rush of power...and we all know power tends to corrupt.  And I let myself become something I had always hated.  The pretty girl who knew just how pretty she was.  Not in a self confident way, but in an arrogant, conceited way.

For most of my life, I had a good personality.  I thought I had to.  I wasn't thin or pretty, so I had to make up for what I lacked with a great personality, a sweet disposition, and a willingness to do whatever anyone asked of me...because how else could I get them to love me?

But when I lost all that weight, suddenly being kind didn't matter anymore.  I was so haughty.  People wanted to be around me because I was easy on the eyes.  And when I realized that, I got really bitter.  And then I didn't want to be nice.  I wanted to cause trouble.  I wanted to destroy those stupid people who thought I was special just because I could wear tiny clothes.  And, in some small way, I succeeded.  If in no other way, I at least destroyed myself.

When the weight started coming back, I was left with all the bitterness and desire to hurt people that I felt when I was thin...and that was not me, not the real me, not the person I wanted to be.

What I am now is so much more than I ever was before.  Most days, I am confident.  I am proud of the things I can do.  I have a decent heart.  I have people that I truly love and who truly love me.  I want to have a great personality, a sweet disposition, and to help people again, but this time, I want to do those things, not because I need to to make someone love me, but because I choose it.  Because I love me.  Because I don't need someone else to tell me my value anymore.  I see who I am and I like the person I see.  I know my own value at last.

When I think about it, I get mad that most people see things in a very poor way.  I want to be loved just as much as the next person.  I want people to find me attractive and to want to be around me.  I want people to know I have value.  But a lot of people don't have that kind of vision.  I find that many people see only the outside, even though there's so much more to a human being than what kind of shell they live in.

I am no longer a thin mint.  I haven't been for quite some time.  Part of it is because food is delicious.  Part of it is because I don't want to run unless something very scary is chasing me...and even then, I don't want to be out of breath when I die...  But a bigger part of it is that my size is a protection.  It protects me from people who's vision is cloudy, from people who can't see that what I am is infinitely more important that what I look like.  And it also protects other people, people who I would probably end up hurting, were I thin enough to fool them into caring.  I protect my good heart with layers of fluffiness.

Today, I'm not sad and I'm not angry.  Today, I feel pity for the people who can't see that who I am now is way more hot than I ever was before.  Because if they could really see me, if they could see the person I am inside, they would know what beauty really looked like.  The shell eventually fades, and the only thing that remains is what's inside.  I've spent a long time and put forth a lot of effort to make my inside something I can be proud of...I won't let that be taken away...

So my positive words for today are "hot as hell", not because somebody who barely knows me told me I was pretty once, in a picture.  My positive words come from me...because I am one of the good people who understands that I am hot as hell right now, with my fluffy shell full of beautiful things.