Startling realizations and not-so-startling realizations

I had a startling realization this morning that I look like a sloth… not symbolically but literally. My neck is sort of fading into my face right now and the mouth and eyes are oddly similar, aside from color. I’ve put on 5 pounds in a week from eating out at every meal, including two late-night trips to Bob’s Big Boy and I’m feeling rather ill from it all. I know it isn’t classy to talk about weight and I do it WAY too much, but I personally love those stars that always obsess about it and go up and down, mainly because they make me feel better about my lot. Scott told me the other day though, “Just eat tofu and carrots or stop complaining to me about it.” I don’t blame him– it’ definitely obsessive and annoying to listen to.

I’m tired of doing photography… I have a shoot Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday and I’m a little worn out from the whole ordeal. I use and quit hobbies like underwear. The shoot with Belinda went well though! I’m doing a “feminine” shoot and a “1940s” shoot this week, so I’m happy that I’m at least getting some diversity in.

Anyhow, in other news, my Nana is giving me all my birthday presents early as predicted… I feel like my birthday is a little like Hanukkah; I always get a gift per day leading up to the event. I set off for Burning Man in exactly one week from today which is terrifying. My mom scared me yesterday with porta-potty horror stories so I’m kind of worried. I need to get stuff done today though– I have a huge list of things I need to buy and accomplish before Sunday.

Scott drunk called me about 10 times and left me 3 messages on Friday night when I was out with Steven and his boo. I sent him two pretty emo texts at the end of the night about how he has people that care about him only because he sounded REALLY depressed and mentioned that he was drunk driving. The next day he called me for a 1 min. conversation in which he told me that my texts were too over-the-top and emotional, and how he didn’t remember calling me at all. I love how I’m the one who always feels like an ass.

In funnier news, my brother is vacationing in Sodona with my Dad & Co. this week, which is apparently turning out to be a disaster. The creek that he has been swimming in for the past week was shut down yesterday because E. Coli was found in it, and on top of that a dam broke near the Grand Canyon so they can’t make their final stop there… the E. Coli thing cracks me up especially, even though it’s “not funny.”

Leah left to Italy to meet up with Sleezy on other news so I won’t see her for a year. I wonder if she’ll have Italian babies someday…

does anyone else think maggie needs some reconstructive surgery?

I hate to be mean because I love her acting; but after seeing her in “Dark Night” I couldn’t help wishing that Maggie’s face wasn’t so… saggy. She’s looking an awful lot like a St. Bernard these days.

Tomorrow I head out to the beach with my brother and his two friends. I don’t know how I got conned into being nanny Danielle, but it happened. Hopefully Leah comes so when I’m declared “uncool” by my brother and consequently ditched for the day, I won’t be sitting alone, frying on the beach for 8 hours.

I watched Bachelor and the Bobbysoxer yesterday with Nana and decided that it’s time to start watching more old movies. I’m never dissapointed with a classic film, and especially ones with Carrey Grant. That is this week’s new goal: to watch three old movies each week (along with losing 2 pounds.)

Speaking of blubber, weight loss is so laughably hard I could cry (or start a meth habit). I’ve been working out an hour a day and until today I had been eating well until I binged on three slices of bread with tuna and some chocolate chips. Story of my life. Tomorrow is NOT going to be a weigh-in day. The scale can screw itself.

Meanwhile, I’ve been working on my photography, trying to put together an ad campaign to gain more interest in headshots and the like. My goal is to set up an interesting looking Myspace (eventually a website), get thousands of friends, develop new flyers for the school-year and organize some more photoshoots. Here’s one ad I did… I’m still debating over the font.

Since Scott lost my iPod, my birtday present in September is bound to be a new one, though I’m thinking of manipulating my way into getting a new lens or some equipment. Sadly, photography is not a cheap hobby: the lens I want is $600, and so I’m thinking of having my family start a fund for holidays where all I receive is money for photography stuff….

Geez, I need to stop thinking about “stuff” so much. My life is becoming so shallow and Bravo-ized. I need direction, focus, a job, a respectable lover, cash flow, good grades, clear skin, better morale, motivation, self-pride, and of course, as my dad told me in a letter, “soul.”

I figure that will come with a new lens and flash gear.

Night stand

I’m beautiful.

It’s hard to remember, when you smell like cheap cologne,

and sting like the long drive home, listening to the sound of

unfulfillment swell about the car. Hard, while following

to some static room where SNL and infomercials sound

as he awkwardly fondles and frets and you wonder what

time it is… are we over yet? But it’s still there—behind forced

conversations and “what the fuck am I doing here?”;

limit the eye contact and remove your glasses for groping.

Polite moments, and then flash-forward to 3am laundry,

doused in rubbing alcohol and familiar thoughts.

An accidental catch-the-glance of an eye behind the glass

and it’s almost striking.