Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Emotional State

Cried after realizing I was 12 minutes too late to order a lobster roll for delivery because they closed at 8.

After a slightly annoying day--the kind with little prickly annoyances that build up, I lost it.

And it was like fuck, how much was a suppressing that missing the deadline for ordering dinner made me break down and cry? Did my fucking boss annoy me that much?

Fuck it was like that time that I  had to deal with asshole customers and I thought my manager saw me yell at a co-worker (who deserved it) and thinking about it the whole time and a manager asking if I was ok and then finally crying when another manager asked me if I was ok.  And I wasn't.  I fucking wasn't.

How can I stop bottling emotions if I don't even know I do it?  Until it's too late?

I am like that magical negro in green mile, but in a bad way, I soak up other people's feelings to things and then react the same way they do.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

People to Contact

Marion Fasel

Of A Kind

In Detail

Tiffany & Co.

Man Repeller

Stuff I've Learned

Listening to the Marc Maron Podcast, to Terry Gross, I'm comforted that other people are just as neurotic and over-analytical like me.

But it's so nice to not give a shit about what other people think.

I used to kill myself over goodbyes, how they were never adequate enough to say everything touching and poignant in time.  Or if the other person seemed to give an emotionless goodbyes,  or they thought I was weird because my goodbye was weird, and I ruined all chances of a friendship because I revealed how weird I am.

I used to feel bad that I wouldn't be invited to things by friends (and family) who thought that it was perfectly nice to talk to me one-on-one, but wasn't cool enough to be seen with in public.  But now I'm just like fuck you, you're a piece of shit for using me like that.

I used to be scared that I'd say the wrong opinion, that I hated that movie, that I'm ambivalent about Hilary Clinton's morals, but then I realized that if one strike is three strikes, I lost long before the game started.

I realized, when the door closes, nobody is thinking wow Kristy's really weird. And even if they are, what is the worst thing that can happen? What happens? I kick myself out of a job opportunity? Honestly that's the worst thing that can happen.  Though I do think that I'm strong enough that my strengths overpower my weirdness. Mostly.  Yeah I still have stuff to work on.

You know what's still awkward though, going in for a hug and then wimping out at the last second.

And obviously, I'm so self-conscious and over-analytical because I'm so hard on everyone else.

Saturday, June 13, 2015

I Don't Fuck With You

Warning, teenage rant ahead.

maybe it's crazy to finally come to this realization at the ripe old age of 24, but I finally have a modicum of self-esteem that I don't care what assholes think about me.


Okay, if I'm being obnoxious, rude, or a downright asshole myself, I will take heed (or I should take heed).

But if you don't like me because of my voice, I'm ugly,  I smell, you think I'm dumb, I'm lame, whatever.  Fuck you, I don't fuck with you, I don't give a fuck about you.  Because if you're asshole enough to voice this opinion to your "friends" you're broken inside. I don't want to deal with you anyway.


And fuck the "friends" that tell me their "friends" don't like me.

I remember there was this one asshole girl (who was a friend, but also mad insecure running her mouth about everyone) who was like I heard some bad things about you Kristy, and they were so mean *fake concerned laugh* they were so mean...

And because I had no self-confidence, it sent my stomach spinning imaging what people are saying about me--the worst things I could think about myself...shit did other people thing it too? Notice it too? Fuck!  And so I tried to play it cool but then I nagged her and nagged her trying to guess who it was while she just shook her head like the martyr she pretended to be...I fell right into her trap.


But now, I don't care.  I'm short, so what? I'm Asian, so what? I have a high, soft, voice, so what? I'm an awkward weirdo, so what? If I'm trying, or if it's not anything I can change, I don't give a fuck what you think.


That's not to say an insult doesn't sting.  Of course my feelings are still hurt if you say any I'm socially awkward, my face messed up.  But I'm able to recognize that my feelings are hurt, and let it wash it over me, and know that the insulter is more fucked up than the insultee, and that this too soon shall pass.