Oy. I'm at work right now. It's unbelievably dead. I still don't have internet at my place, for the same reason I haven't gotten an eliptical machine yet- lack of time and mechanical ability.
I'm a bit PMSy anyway, so this was just the icing on the cake. Normally I'd just be thinking "This article is completely retarded." Which it is. But because I'm all mentally retarded and feeling icky today, it makes me obscenely frustrated.
I don't know. I am the exact opposite of this article, and through my hormone clouded mind, I am trying to process how I feel about that- despite my feeling that it's complete and utter bullshit. It's just kind of a surreal feeling.
I am quite tall. I have dark brown, almost black hair. I have weird eyes that change color but are usually sort of a greyish green or greyish violet. I am exceedingly cynical. I do not have a car. I smoke. I drink. Often. And I have never eaten Wonderbread nor did I grow up on a farm. That last part I just threw in there, because that's something I've always thought about when irrationally pondering what might be wrong with me.
None of my friends are short, long blonde haired, none-too-intelligent, uncynical types either. Nor are they girl-next-door types. Which is something I like about them. I hate that term, however, as it implies I don't have neighbors, which I do. In fact, I've had many neighbors in the course of my non-girl next door life. One of them was an Elvis impersonator. Which, frankly, I feel should mean that I win. Which I don't, but still.
I am supposed to die of consumption at the end of the film. This much I know. That, and I would look pretty much retarded with long blonde hair. I have a picture somewhere of me in a wig. It's quite disturbing, to say the least. I gotta tell you, this whole thing sort of makes me feel quite sensible about my recent decision to embark on another manfast. It makes more sense than cutting off half of my legs, at least.
But I feel a little bit like a bad feminist today.