Today's rambling: Date! Well, not really.
Written on Thursday, Jul. 17, 2003 at 12:56 a.m.
while feeling a bit

I don't really have time for a big long entry tonight, as I need to get to bed at a 'decent' hour (of course, all the real decent hours have passed already, but I'll settle for a good substitute). I've got a date.

*cackles* Well alright, it's not really a date. It's more another of those 'do you wanna do something tomorrow?' deals. But nonetheless, Geoff called me tonight, and after only a few words of small talk at the beginning he blurted out that beloved invitation. And that was apparently all he called for, because once we decided what we were going to do (go 'nature walking') and what time he was going to call me (9 am), we hung up. :P I think I could get used to this. *grins*

Tim had called earlier (from work), but I was on my cell phone talking to Amanda, and as such he told me he'd call back later. But he never did. As much as I'm steadily growing to dislike talking to him, the kinder part of me hates to think he might be getting the hint that I'm displeased. Isn't that so retardedly contrary? No wonder diaries like girls-suck exist; we really can be strange creatures sometimes! Not that I'm saying everyone's as weird as me, but come on: wouldn't you think I'd want Tim to know I'm not happy with him? Well...I mean, I've told him on numerous occasions that he's pissing me off, but he either thinks I'm joking or enjoys seeing me upset (and neither of those makes me any more content with him). Still, I guess it's fear of any possible confrontation that makes me want to keep my irritation mostly hidden. That, and I keep telling myself that he is a good guy, just very misguided. And I'm not one of those sorts that thinks she can 'change' a man. I just prefer not to associate with them if they annoy me that badly. :P

I finally got Mom to stand still long enough to let me pin up the hem of her skirt. And it wasn't exactly as easy as I'd thought it would be! Part of the problem was that she wanted the skirt to end much higher than it did, so I have this big flap of fabric that makes it hard to measure. Then there's the fact that I've never hemmed in my life before, and am just positive I did something wrong. Still, I felt sort of domestic and professional, kneeling there on the ground with silk pins clamped down between my lips. *chuckles* Really, all I need to do now is learn how to cook, and I'll be The World's Most Eligible Domestic.

Or not. Because I hate cleaning. Whoever eventually lives with me is going to have to either like cleaning or not mind clutter, because unless I experience some kind of life-altering change after marriage, I am not going to be the most dutiful of housewives. But at least I'll be able to make clothing. ^_^

Hey Lola, if I ever became good enough (at making clothes, I mean!), you could become a fashion designer and I could help put the garments together. ;)

I'm going to have to wear shorts tomorrow. I keep realizing this at various moments during the night. I have not worn a pair of shorts at all during the course of the summer. The last time I really wore them out anywhere was while I visited Lola in Arizona (which was what? Two years ago?). I wore them around the dorm once or twice toward the end of the year, but I do not like having to wear them. Geoff's never even seen my legs before, because I've never worn shorts around him! He may never want to see me again after tomorrow. My legs, aside from being wider than they should be, could probably glow in the dark. They are so pale and...just generally ick that I wouldn't want to subject anyone to the sight of them. And I know I shouldn't be so worried about it, because goodness knows Geoff's got the fluffiness of a huggable bear...but still, those thoughts never help me.

Y'know what always gets me? How whenever I complain about my weight, my mother scoffs and then tries to say things like, "Have you seen some of those girls at [pick a place]?" Y'know, the ones with rolls and rolls of fat that seem to like putting on the skimpiest outfits possible? Yeah, they look terrible, but at least they have the confidence to go out like that. Still, I can't make myself feel better by comparing my size to that of other people. It doesn't help! Just because they're overweight and wear halter tops and midriff-revealing shirts doesn't mean that I can do the same thing. As it is, I've come a looooooong way from where I used to be. I cringe at the thought of what I used to wear in high school. Half the time, I practically dressed like a boy because I was so conscious about my flaws. Now, I'm wearing T-shirts from American Eagle and low-cut jeans...and sure, the shirts are still a tiny bit tighter on me than what they're supposed to be, but I'm comfortable with the size of my chest now. Just because it's 'fashionable' to be an A or a B cup doesn't mean I have to be ashamed of my own larger size. As awkward as I get when men stare at my chest (and there've either been a lot more lately, or I'm just noticing it more), it's still flattering in a way. Really, the only thing that I'm 100% unhappy with is my lower half.

Oh, and my hair. But we've discussed that already, Diary.

So yeah, I'm going to go out with my albino-toned legs tomorrow, and I'm prepared to get at least one surprised comment from Geoff (hopefully none that sound like, "AUGH, I'M BLIEEEEND!"). But after awhile, I'm sure I'll get a little more comfortable with the idea, and I can breathe a huge sigh of relief when I go home tomorrow night and put on my pajama pants. :P

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got sleep to find.