Bitchicisms

I've always been fixated on how I appeared to people, how weird it was to be me and in a way, what kind of persona I had.

Mixed messages do happen. Much as I would like to declare that I am seen for the multi-faceted brat/bitch/baby that I am, most of the time those things get mixed up.

A lot of people see me right now as a princess. I have no doubt that some people in the office think I'm just some little spoiled brat that gets to do whatever she wants thanks to her mom's money. Some bimbo who goes shopping whenever she's upset (though retail therapy does work).

I guess they don't see the bookworm. Or the kid who was so awkward. Or I guess they don't know I still don't feel comfortable sidling up to strangers in bars. I get this ballsy or bitchy or bratty image.

I guess it's because of my masks. I never really confide everything. I get the whole surface emotions out, but the deep ones, nah...

I've been perceived for some time now as this girl who's game. Someone who's always on and ready for anything. The double digit number probably contributes to that.

I've always loved sex (now isn't that an understatement). It's always been something essential to me. When I'm bored, tired, sleepy, horny and the like I automatically masturbate. I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

Orgasms rock! Ripping apart my senses like some tidal wave of heat and tingling warmth. But casual sex I need to get away from for now. I need time for myself. By myself. Just me. No friends for a while. No commiserating with dudes who are heartbroken muna.

I guess I neglected myself. My room is a mess, I am overweight. And I haven't been taking care of me. I spent too much time over analyzing that dude when the simple fact of the matter was that NOTHING was gonna happen.

It wasn't my fault. It wasn't his. H is a nice guy. Maybe someday I can tell him that. Right now I need to finish Seasons 1 - 4 of The L Word.