On Self Image

When I was in sixth grade, something happened to my body. I got breasts before any other the other girls. The flat-chested girls were jealous and I was mortified. I started cradling my books to my chest when walking from class to class, and I noticed boys were staring at me in class a lot more often. In short, I grew to hate my breasts.

My self-image was in the potty, so to speak.

I mean, at the time, I did not hate these boys. Still don't. I sort of hated that I began developing before most girls. Strange thing is that I did not feel more like a woman – just felt different than my friends. And I did not feel any prettier, though when I look at pictures me, I should have thought of myself as pretty.

Years later, I was talking some friends – and nearly universally, none of us considered ourselves pretty when in school. I am not talking "hot" because, lets face it, we were kids. But we were cute, all of us, and none of us knew.

In It's a Wonderful Life, there is a line: "Youth is wasted on the young." Now I don't believe the line because the young are foolish. And being foolish is more than it is cracked up to be. Foolish means carefree. Foolish can mean free-spirited. Foolish is great, really.

But foolish also doesn't know how pretty she is when she was thirteen years old. Or how wonderfully she was inside, how fully of hope, how full of dreams. All she remembers is how clumsy guys got, bumping into her breasts between classes.

Yeah, parents can tell you that you are pretty when you are young but you really never believe them.

Yesterday, I read a bit of self-flagellation on one of my favorite blogger's sites, and in a second, all of these thoughts came pouring out. The world is full of beautiful.¹ people, and it is sad to know that most of us never really consider ourselves beautiful.¹

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¹Beautiful can mean so many things, and while I primarily focused on physical beauty in my examples, I was thinking of everything that makes someone unique – gifts of intelligence, patience, kindness, and talent, as well as unique physical traits, like the wrinkling of a nose to an unpleasant odor.

Blogger on Vacation

Okay, I am going to take a few days off. When I am not at work, I don't turn on the computer. Yay, for me, but because of this, I don't update my blog during those days.

I have not written them, but I will try to write some quick fillers for the next week (by the time I post this the fillers will be written or I will edit this out; I am sneaky that way). Unfortunately, they will most likely be erotic stories. Sorry guys, but I did this last year also. So, if you want to look at some passably good writing, please see the following entries:

Of Amateur Singers and iPods
I am sort of proud of this post, pimping an amateur singer on YouTube. Plus an iPod obsession. I could have filled out the post a bit, but I was proud with the finished product.

This blog is currently moving
There was a little section on gifts that was written for the Christmas season, but it applies all year long. As far as a Christmas post goes, this one is a quasi-Christmas post.

Forced Promotion
A conversation between me and my boss, with a little bit of an interjection on what I was thinking, and a humorous look at what he was thinking. I can't however, read my boss' mind. I am not sure if it is because I don't have the ability, or he rarely thinks.

Warning: the next three posts are of an "adult" nature, and actually, two of the stories are fairly bizarre for me to write (written on a dare a while back). My favorite is the one concerning kissing.

My blog has also had a face-lift. I have gone through and tried to tag all of my erotic stories with the word "erotic," as well as used a tag for "favorite." Looking back, I should have used the word "popular" because the posts were mostly popular for past readers. Since I have more than 360 posts, I am not going to tag all of my posts, but I did want to at least tag a few of the older posts.

I wish you all a Merry Christmas, a Wonderful Kwanzaa and Happy Hanukkah.

This blog is currently moving

Blogger
Okay, all day yesterday, there was a message: "This blog is currently moving." I had written my post yesterday, and as in previous postings, asking if I would want to move my blog. I have read that eventually all blogger blogs will be converted, so my mind changed and I knew that I would have to eventually change. I thought to myself, "what the hell," it should only take a few minutes.

I mean, the message did say that most blogs would take a couple of minutes to convert. Nearly eight hours later, the blog finished its conversion process. Thanks, blogger. Well, the good news is that it appears that the posts made it. Not all of the comments did however. For instance, mal made a comment yesterday, and she became anonymous after the conversion. Sorry, sweetie.

Comfort Zones
~deb has a really interesting post today, in "Waters to Swim..."
Have you heard about the frog that was born at the bottom of the well? He thought life couldn’t get any better till one day he looked up and saw daylight. Climbing up to investigate, he was amazed to find a much larger pond than the one he lived in. After hopping twice, he was eaten by a snake.

Okay, ~deb's post actually started a lot better than that. I am all about taking some chances. But sometimes when you expand your world, a snake eats your ass.

Receiving Gifts
I received a wonderful gift yesterday. I was running around, in a hurry, and I stopped in the local Walgreens. Well, it was not one near where I live, but I wanted a soda on the way to do some other errands. So here I am in line, behind a woman who was counting single dollars and coins to make a purchase.

All of a sudden, her face went ashen, and I could tell she did not have enough for her purchases. Her total was around $36 dollars. I never spend that much in Walgreens. Anyway, I felt for the woman. Looking at my watch, I formed an idea.

I gave the cashier two crisp twenties, asked him to scan my soda and said I was with her. After scanning my soda, I told the woman to grab the change and I would be out in the car. I left, and as I was driving away, I saw her start walking down the street.

I don't know who this woman was, just some frail old lady with kind eyes and years of work etched into her hands. I sometimes wonder if I offended her; I hope not. Since she was already wondering which item to put back, I think her mind was not on me, but on her next step.

I am a nut about "giving trees." I like them because you can give and still remain anonymous. Our church has one, the local convenience store, the grocery store, schools. I love giving for the feeling I get. And I try to remain anonymous because I think it is important to give for the right reasons. The only reason I am writing about it here is – well two-fold – perhaps I can inspire others, and well, I have nothing to write about today and this fills space.

One thing I did do a few years ago is ask my hubbie to actually purchase items for the church giving tree. I pulled two "angels" (paper angels with ages and sexes of needy kids) and sent him to the store to make purchases. He is a bit of a tightwad, and I wanted him to loosen his purse strings. Well, not purse strings, but you get the idea. It was very hard for him to do, and he complained that he was spending more on strangers than our own family's children. Yeah, it was painful for him.

The next year, I gathered two more "angels" (two church-goers = two angels) and planned on purchasing them myself. I just did not want to inflict more pain. I am a bitch; I am, however, not heartless. Funny thing is that hubbie picked up an additional angel and asked if he could again purchase the gifts. Blew my freekin' mind.

Hopefully this "new blogger" will improve. Perhaps I will kick my writing up a notch as well. After all, I am not heartless.