Concern and Perception

When Beth wrote her blog on what happened Saturday night (a much more coherent version than mine), I had a momentary panic attack. She's friends with both my brother and father on Facebook, a few clicks and they would have access to all that is contained herein. And then I thought, Fuck it. Much like, and probably more so than, the previous blog I stand by everything in here and it probably wouldn't actually hurt them to know a bit more about what's going on in my life. I own it all. I understand the ridiculousness that is my life. And I kind of love it. Every single random serendipitous adventure that I go on makes me grateful to be able to have such random serendipitous adventures. So here it all is. Every wart, every zit, every stupid thing I say or do. Well...mostly...

It also got me thinking about perceptions. How we view ourselves v. how other view us. I do not think of myself as overly confident, and yet Beth refers to me that way in her post. I am as insecure and have as many self esteem issues as pretty much every other girl out there. I feel invisible about 80% of the time, especially when in the presence of my aforementioned father and brother. When I mentioned to Cheryl what Beth had said in her blog, she's like, "You are! You just walk in like you own places!" So, for future reference: I'M TOTALLY BLUFFING, Y'ALL! Maybe faux confidence turns into real confidence? I know I talk a lot. I know all the random, useless trivia in my brain makes me able to prattle on and on and on in just about any situation. And in the Marina I think part of it is I know that if worse comes to worse I can kick any of those coke snorting girl's asses (seriously. two girls go into the stall at Bar None together? there's only one reason for that). But mostly? I'm totes faking it, yo.

Beth, btw, is AMAZING. I went to her Soberversary tonight. I can't imagine spending the last two years sober. I can't imagine not picking up a cold beverage to take the edge off when I need it. I can't imagine what fortitude it takes to be around people like me who can't handle not doing that. I would never ever meet guys if it weren't for alcohol. So yeah. Mad props to Beth and her ability to handle it all with incredible grace.

Anyway, San Francisco has had amazing weather. It's 70ish in November. I finally decided that getting out and about in SF was something I needed to be doing. I walked from Taraval up to the parking lot at Land's End and back. It was fantastic. And exhausting. My hips are killing me. But it felt GOOD to be out there, seeing how far I could push it. And despite all protestations to the contrary, I am beginning to notice small differences. My jeans are a little bit bigger in the thighs, shirts a little looser. And it feels phenomenal. But I don't want to jinx it. Because I'm hellza supersticious and all.

Also:
CANCER (June 21-July 22): In the 1925 silent film *The Gold Rush,*
Charlie Chaplin plays a prospector during the Alaska Gold Rush. After a
series of adventures, he finds himself stuck in a remote cabin on
Thanksgiving Day with a ruffian named Big Jim. They're out of food, so
Charlie gets resourceful, boiling his right shoe in a big pot and serving it
up steaming hot. What the audience doesn't know is that the movie prop
is made of sweet licorice, not leather. So while it may seem that dinner is
a hardship, the actors actually had no trouble polishing off their meal. I
see a similar scenario in your near future, Cancerian: something like eating
a "shoe" that's made of candy.

That's my horoscope for this week. I...don't know how to take that. Is getting bar results gonna be the shoe? Is this week the shoe? Is swallowing down licorice how I'm going to act if I fail? AHHHHHH!! I'll try not to dwell too much on it. It is just a horoscope. But we all know that Friday is looming. So there's that...