As the immortal Missy Elliot says RUN FOR COVER MOTHERFUCKERS!
Oh yea, did I mention I will be modeling for an artist/patron of GBM on Wednesday? I think I will wear my new leggings/baggy shirt combo. I wish the fact that someone approached me and asked me to model for their paintings made me feel like less of a fat ass, but as always, there has to be this disclosure: (in regards to nude modeling)
I have seen more nude people in my life than I can shake a stick at..... skinny and i the 300 pound range (no joke, she was an opera singer), and old and young. It's crazy but it's what I do.
Oy, so really its an "art" thing and not about a "bangin" thing, but hell, I'm still more than flattered and interested to see what we are going to barter for (ooh! Presents!) I'm just so uncomftorable with my body lately, I just look at myself and think "gross! gross!" It really needs to stop. I need to eat better. And exercise. And not be hideously depressed. Okay, so maybe cutting off my Zoloft like one of those scraping sounds on a record player (really, you could hear my happiness go the way of the music) was a poor idea, even poorer than my choice of metaphors at this moment. Not that I wasn't considering stopping them already, but 1) shouldnt have quit cold turkey, the seretonin plummet makes me insane 2) I shoulda waited till I had a job 3) I shoulda found a therapist by now.
So as it is, Im just rambling, slightly psychotic bitch who has low self-esteem and is pissed that I can't munch on pills like Ms. Pacman in order to feel better.