04.03.2002 - 9:55 a.m.
While I was walking back home from the gym yesterday, I saw a
little bird's wing lying on the sidewalk. Maybe torn off by a
neighborhood cat or something, I don't know. For some reason,
the sight of it - fragile, fluttering in the wind as if its very
feathers and sinews recalled the motion of flight - seemed poignant
and sorrowful, so much so that my chest hitched painfully and
I exhaled a great watery sigh.
Such an insignificant image
that somehow haunts me still, like an uncertain portent I cannot
Well, that's PMS for you.
I used to think PMS was sort of a whiny woman's complaint. Yes,
there are cramps during, but the week before? What's
the trouble, girls? Now I realize all the weird thing that actually
happen to me. Weight gain? Check. Facial blemish outbreak? Check.
Desire to eat salty things also sweet things also crunchy things
also smushy things? Check.
And mentally, I get melancholy.
Dreamy. I'm liable to well up over a commercial I might normally
find too cloying. I get inclined towards contemplative hair-twirling,
future-obsessing. Broken-off sparrow wings take on great meaning.
So, a week of instability,
outlook-on-life-wise, plus the added fun of a poor body image.
Yay for hormones!
Body image. Have you got
one of those? Hopefully it's a good one. Mine zooms all over
the board, depending on the usual suspects like diet and exercise,
alignment of the planets, etc. I'm always very self aware,
though. Sometimes I think that the best thing about being in
perfect shape is that you would simply reassign the large percentage
of your thoughts that are dedicated to worrying about how you
look in your pants/skirt/whatfuckinever and instead use them
for something more productive, like remembering how to convert
fractions to decimals or something.
However, I suppose it's
impossible to reach some magical point where you look in the
mirror and give yourself a curt self-satisfied nod and say "There.
That's just right. No room for improvement here!" and set
off on your new happy life, tra la la, giving nary a thought
to how your ass looks as you leave the room.
In fact, the more in shape
I feel, the more self-saturated I get. Instead of woefully regarding
a squishy belly, which is brief (because how long do you really
want to compare your midsection to a blancmange), I'll gaze for
long periods of time at an emerging muscle, praising it and encouraging
it and making sure it feels welcome. The more in shape I get,
the more I think Hey, you got this far. Just a little more
I definitely feel better
about everything when I'm happier with my body. I'm honestly
more apt to keep my house clean and all the random shit in my
life in order - it's all connected in some weird discipline-oriented
way. But the strive for perfection, well, there IS no perfection.
Being extremely skinny
can strongly appeal to me. (Hasn't Hollywood body worship taught
us to cast a covetous eye on Calista Flockhart's protruding collarbone
rather than exclaiming in disgust how terrible she looks? Isn't
every magazine on earth filled with models who are exactly as
slender if not more?) I sometimes think it would be nice to be
so sparse. So streamlined. Able to choose, somehow, how much
space you take up in the world.
But it seems having that
body would make you infirm, fragile. I want my body to summit
mountains, throw quick jabs, bend into complicated yoga positions.
The more I think about
it, the more it seems casting aside your body image would be
like losing a longtime friend. Someone you fought with, were
disappointed by, and occasionally truly hated - but also someone
you were proud of, someone who made you feel good. Someone who
sometimes made you slouch and tug at your clothes, and other
times made you strut like a peacock and judiciously meet the
eye of everyone who passed you.
Besides, what would I really
do with all those freed-up thoughts? Probably just make more
room for obscure Simpsons quotes.
"And how is education supposed to make me feel smarter?
Besides, every time I learn something new, it pushes some old
stuff out of my brain. Remember when I took that home winemaking
course, and I forgot how to drive?"
Sundry's Super Mega Cool Message
go back :::
04.02.2002 - You
know very well the lobster would have to pork the tiger, not
the other way around.
03.29.2002 - Let's
all just take a moment and wallow in jealous hatred.
03.27.2002 - It
was all very Punk and Totally Rebellious. Except that it sucked
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004