the danish outpost
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listen up, boys.

23.08.2002

feeling kinda how a girl feels

i got what i guess is a compliment today. 'you're looking good - not a brick out of place.' okaaayyy. comes from 'built like a brick shithouse', i suppose. and where exactly did that phrase come from? seems odd to me. comparing someone to a masonry toilet is backhanded at best. it was explained that it's a way of saying perfection. riiiight.

and why did i hear that today? i'm dressed the same as i always am. jeans, tshirt, shoes. didn't do a thing with my hair, not wearing any makeup, just threw things on before leaving the house. oh! wait, nothing is wrinkled and covered with cat hair. 'most days, you look like you're wearing something the cat dragged under the bed.' lest that sound too harsh, it's pretty true. not the under the bed part, but the wrinkled and cat hair part. they can't manage to iron anything, my cats, but they help where they can, which often involves sleeping on the laundry pile and dragging my socks from room to room.

today just happened to be a day where i found clean, cat free, relatively pressed clothes. and said items are a bit snug. not hootchie tight, but snug. so i look good. no particular reason.

and here's why i don't normally make an effort: i hate being whistled at, ogled as i walk down the street, hit on by random guys. it's icky. i just don't want everybody and their dog tripping over their own feet as they pass by because they feel the need to stare at my chest or my ass. i'm no Marilyn, but i clean up pretty well. so do a lot of other people. why stare at me?

why is it that guys feel the need to express themselves so crudely? i don't *like* hearing 'whoo, mamma!' as i walk down the street to run an errand. all i want to do is get my lunch, maybe pick up a CD, soak up some sun, and be out of the office for a bit. yeah, yeah. i get that there isn't really time to make polite conversation and say 'i really like your hair'. but what's with the orangutan imitations? the lot of you may as well jump up and down, scratching your pits and dragging your knuckles on the ground for all the points you earn by wolf whistling.

i'd rather just blend in, hide behind the shades, not be noticed, feel free to go to the bank or run to the pharmacy, and not fend off the wildlife.

yes, i'm cranky.

it's not to say that i don't like compliments. i just prefer to be seen as more than a collection of body parts. is that so much to ask, guys?

i hope it isn't. part of the reason i'm so sensitive may be because i'm edging back into the dating world. it's a rough world, this dating thing. while i'm pretty confident about who i am, there's nothing like a blind date to wreak havoc with your self-image. and it's not as if i'm keying my self worth to how a date goes. they work, good. they don't, so be it. i'm still me, and i still like myself. but the whole thing does give you a heightened awareness of how others may see you.

hence, mayhap, the jumpiness when walking down the street. because one of you just might be my next blind date. (goddess, i hope not.)

yesterday :: tomorrow

your moment of...
2000-2002 by eac. feel free to link to my site; if you do, please drop me a line.
ambience
listening to/watching: construction workers
reading: street signs
random: meet the girls. Mona. Lisa.

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*tap tap* hellooo?
i think i've been tricked
steely grey days
warm food for cold weather
the appeal of the broken boy

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