Ms. Agony; The Niece.

As my previous posts would prove- I am undoubtedly a non-conformist. Ha. No really, I post up emotional one-liners that convey to the world (or rather, in the interest of accuracy, to no one) the things I am not articulate enough to come up with on my own. Clearly, originality is very high up on my list of priorities because well, no one else does the posting up depressing one-liners bit.

Yup, it’s just me.

I could say the same about my life story. Don’t want to read about it? Well, tough. So here goes- Girl grows up with Boy. Girl then proceeds to (foolishly, of course) become bestfriend’s with Boy. Incoming is the inevitable but completely unforeseen inconvenience that is feelings on only the Girl’s part. Girl is then in denial but eventually discovers, to her utter dismay, that she is in love with Boy. Boy, undoubtedly falls for every other girl but Girl and Girl, of course, hides her pain and acts the part of the Saint in this whole drama because Girl would only want Boy to have the happiness that he deserves which Boy can only attain in the arms of the girl Boy loves. Saint Girl of course cannot fully provide Boy with what he deserves because of the teeny tiny problem of him not loving her back. So, Girl suffers silently for 7 years of her life and with all that time on her hands- she does her level best to get over Boy but to no avail. In desperation, Girl finally grasps at straws and decides to cut contact with Boy in order to sever all feelings Girl has for Boy. Girl is of course now suffering the brunt of her decision (which she reckons is ultimately the best thing Girl has done for herself) as Boy does not seem too affected by the distance. So, Girl resorts to emotional one liners in a blog to vent.

How very..original. It’s definitely one for the books. Oh wait.. About that. Ha.

I can promise you this though. This is one story that doesn’t have a happy ending.

Apparently reality trumps fiction.

Every. Single. Time.

Coffee.

I’ve never tried it. Not inclined to do so either.

BUT. I am inclined to envy coffee-holics. I envy how they make addiction to coffee look so cool. Yes, I’m deep like that.

The whole I-can’t-function-until-my-first-shot-of-coffee bit really has me going several ghastly shades of green. Starbucks is wholly or well, partly to blame for this. They and their sophisticated coffee cups. It’s bloody unfair to us non-drinkers. Not to mention, inconsiderate. I’m just saying, it really wasn’t vital to make drinking coffee look cool.There really was no need for that.

Oh and don’t forget the ‘coffee runs’.

I’ll never be able to say, “ Hold on, I’m heading out for a coffee run.I need it..to live. ” No,I won’t be able to do that..ever. Oh, the deprivation- all because I can’t stand the bitter aftertaste. Brilliant, really.

You know what needs to be cool? Food addiction. That shit needs to upmarketed.  I can TOTALLY do the food-holic bit. To perfection, if I say so myself. Now, if it could just be..cool.

Think about it- ” Hold on, I’m heading out for a food run. I need it..to live.”

It even has the added bonus of actually being the..truth. Food to live? Sound familliar?

Thought so.

I suppose it’s only fair to detail to my readership (of a Grand Total of 0 People) why I am inflicting myself on them in this way.

It’s simple really, I am an intensely private person and cannot for the life of me bring down the great walls I’ve created around myself to allow anyone in to see the real (and quite possibly ugly) me. So what do I do? I turn to the internet- only the safest place on earth to tell your secrets.

God forbid anyone I know reads this- I would then be obliged to commit harakiri or some other highly effective derivative of well, suicide. On a somewhat related note, yay to the God-references in all of my Grand Total of 2 posts. I am finally finally on my way to…religiousity. My mum would be so proud.

Now, on to the emotional-birthday-suit I am determined to wear or unwear, if we’re about to be anal about the whole issue. Which I am, most times- Anal that is. The crude in me is dying to say something completely inappropriate at this juncture but a Mum & God reference all in one post? & in one day? I think I’ll preserve the good girl image I have going on here.

So, before I let myself evade the real issue as I have been doing for the past, I don’t know, 100 words? Here’s the deal- I am fat. Gasp. The truth is now out there for..0 people to see. I suppose I could have been kinder to myself.

Calling myself “a little on the heavier side” or “plump” or “weight-challenged” or “a food addict” would have been infinitely kinder-

Infinitely kinder and…wildly inaccurate. Oh wow, I just keep ‘em coming. That didn’t hurt at all.

However, in the interest of full-frontal disclosure (Ha. I’m on a roll today. Full-frontal disclosure & emotional birthday suits. Please, stop. You’re embarrasing me. I’m really not all that much of a wit. Really? Okay, if you insist.) I must warn you that underneath all this bluster lies a poor little insecure fat girl, wanting in almost..everything.

I say ‘everything’ because if you didn’t already know- there are 2 categories of fat girls. The first is, no doubt, where the fat takes a backseat to their charming personality, good hair, brilliant complexion and overall attractiveness. Oh and probably good fashion sense too. Now from where I stand, God was pretty much holding his own in that balancing act.

Then of course, He got exhausted or something and fell off that tightrope- only to create fat girls who have pimply skin, good hair day’s of a Grand Total of 1 per year, and of course Thyroid problems on top of the mess that is their hormone system. Yes you’ve guessed it, I add weight to this category. Pun intended because I’m so cool like that. Jyeah.

No, really. I am not as lame as I appear. Whether I am lamer is debatable.

But I digress. The point is, (Yes! there is surprisingly a point) amidst all this word diarrhea, I have decided to become a lighter person ie. physically & mentally. I suppose what I am trying to say is, for the next 3 months while I try to shed the fat and all my emotional hang ups- Tumblr will have to keep me sane and help me through it. So there.

Now that I’ve gone and gotten myself a blog, I find I don’t know what to do with it.

This whole thing is slightly ridiculous. Ha. Slightly? Who am I kidding.

I started out this whole venture with a half-baked idea of emoting emotions I can’t seem to display in my real life for fear of judgment. Oh yes, do categorise me as one of those constantly emotion-filled people who will also, constantly need to spell out in excruciating detail the unfairness that is her life. (On the flip side, I reckon I am consistent if nothing else?)

There you have it, I’m a girl with girlie horrifying hormone-y emotions that needs to purge her soul through word-diarrhea. (Pun totally intended ‘cause I’m disgusting like that. Whatup.) Failing that, I’d just post up really emo one liner’s from songs. Clearly, I am not one for overturning stereotypes. Imagine that. 

Here’s to sticking to my Holiday To-Do-List. God help me.