Dude. My boobs look HUGE tonight. It's a good night--for my chest at least. I don't know what it is, but they look full and perky tonight. If I wanted, I could probably have cleavage. That is a rarity.
Sigh. I hate my boobs. Ok, I don't hate them, but I'm not exactly a big fan of them either...except for the fact that I can get away with wearing halters and going braless--that's pretty cool. But I hate the fact that my mom and sister have both hogged the boob gene in the Petersen clan, leaving me with, um, close to nothing.
Thank god for padded bras and cleavage-enhancers. That's all I gotta say.
I'll stop talking about my chest now I promise. I'm 22, not 12. Gosh.
So I'm in the process of "upgrading" my wardrobe for the PRSSA conference in New York City right now. I'm using the word upgrade loosely. It's more of a game for me. Like "how little money can Krissy get away with spending on professional clothes she may never wear again?" Ok, so yes, I could definitely put some pinstripe pants to good use. And a couple of the tops from Oldnavy.com are going to be uber-cute. But I resent the fact that I have to conform my definition of comfort and style for a bunch of stuffed-shirts.
I'm also resentful because I've been coming to terms in a sense with a demon of mine. I realize that I'm not a supermodel, nor will I ever be one. I just don't like having to "upgrade" sizes for business suits and such. My self-esteem took a blow last week when I realized that yes, I have gained weight, and no, it will not magically all melt before October 22nd. It's been hard for me to admit this. I don't want to be the fat girl. That's not who I am or want to become. I have curves--a lot of them perhaps. And while I don't hate my body, I'm not exactly in love with the shape that I'm in right now.
This is a fact that scares me. Not because I've gained a couple of pounds but because I'm turning into an obsessive freak over it. Everytime I pass a reflective surface, I turn to see how my tummy looks. I check out other girls to see if I'm bigger or smaller than them. This could be the start of an eating disorder if I left it get out of hand.
But I won't. Because I realized today that it doesn't matter. Ooh, so I may have gone up a size. It's not like I'm not the same dorky girl I've always been. Sure, it may alter people's opinions of me because I have wide hips. But do I really want to give the time of day to anyone who scoffs at my ass? Not. At. All.
Fuck society and all who think that real girls have to be petite. I'm not. Get over it. I am.
And I'll have the cute outfits to prove it...just gimme a couple of weeks.
With the conference fast approaching, there's a shitload of things I need to do: get professional clothes, maybe find another nice pair of shoes, save money, get my hair did...
Keeping that in mind, I've set a couple of goals for myself that I will adhere to for the next four weeks:
- No spending any un-necessary money. I don't need another pair of jeans or a silly shirt. I don't need anymore DVDs (except Eternal Sunshine which I've put money away for) or fast food. I must save it for the wardrobe or the city. Yes. This means no new makeup either. Dammit.
- No pop. Or alcohol. Really. I haven't drank any alcohol in a couple of weeks--with the exception of a shot on Thursday night. The last time I drank with a purpose was during Welcome Weekend. I don't necessarily miss the bar scene. And I'm saving money. Huzzah! I'm doing well with the pop thing too. I faltered this weekend a few times, but starting tomorrow, nada soda for moi. I should get some bottled water to help this along.
- Excercise. Number of times I've been to the PEIF this year. Um, none. I can only partially blame my schedule. I have no motivation when it comes to working out. Once I'm in a routine, it'll be easier, it's just getting off my ass. Even if I just take a small walk at night, it's gotta be better than the sitting on my duff I'm doing now. This isn't even to shed pounds, it's so that when I'm running around the city I won't feel the urge to order a pulminary surgery after hiking a block and a half.
- Get my shit together. I need to reassemble a damn portfolio and print off business cards and resumes. Dammit. It's scary--once this stuff is done I'm one step closer to the real world. Gaah.
All this talk of adult-like stuff scares me. Pardon moi while I curl up in a fetal position.
Ciao, dahling!
~*Krissy*~