Pimpin' Ain't Easy, Bitch! (But Neither Is Self Mutilation)

It's all the presentation...

Bitch better have my money.


~Me

I don’t really know where to start.

About a month ago, I took over running the agency that I work for, Dreamgirls. I’m essentially a madame for strippers now.

It’s going really well. I like being all organized and efficient, running an office and bossing everybody about. It suits me.

However, also about a month ago, I moved into the house of the owner of Dreamgirls, to house sit for two weeks while she was away in Mexico.

Thaaaaaaat didn’t go so well.

Turns out the girl who hates everyone and wants to be left alone all of the time really shouldn’t be left alone all the time.

Or any time.

I dropped ten pounds in the two weeks that Gigi left me to my own devices, to do whatever I wanted.

  Like forget to eat.

 Ooooooooooops. 

I can’t believe how quickly and indiscernibly this shit snuck back up on me. I am not a stupid girl, nor am I clueless of my surroundings or the malevolence of other people - in fact, I’m incredibly sensitive to it.

So how the fuck is it that I have fallen victim to myself?

Da fuck? The one being, the one entity, the one force of nature I have to be the most wary of is ME? Where’s the ingrained instinct for survival? Where’s the inherent drive to thwart perceived threats and fight to the death to protect one’s very existence? Where dat shit?

The one who hurts me the most is me. I am the biggest threat to my physical and emotional well-being. How fucking dumb is that?

That’s just how it pulls me in. When I’m stuck in Victoria Beckham mode, the ability to lose weight IS my survival instinct - the more I can control my weight, the more I can control the elements of my surroundings. People, places, things, anything that could be perceived as a threat starts to fade away when I am back in control.

Or so I think.

I don’t seem to notice that actually, I am spinning wildly out of control, heading back down a path that can only end in death, self induced or otherwise. But that’s okay, cuz hey, have you noticed how good I look?

Why are you posting this crap? I hear you ask. Good question. I don't know. I guess I hoped that by being honest and posting the truth up here for everyone to see, it might help pull my head from my arse.

With the diminishment of my perceived threats comes the dwindling of my capacity to feel joy. My blog, once the epicentre of my world, now exhausts me, and sits abandoned and pointless. I rarely see M, Kay has to stalk me, and my beloved dogs sit sad and neglected and painfully bloated from lack of exercise. But that’s okay, cuz hey, have you noticed how good I look?

The most screamingly hilarious part of this whole thing is how initially offended I was when nobody noticed. Look at me! I would think  desperately. Look how in control of my life I am! Until they did notice, and I became enraged by their endless fussing, their suffocating attempts to “help” me. Leave me alone! I wanted to scream at them. But before you go, have you noticed how good I look?

Ker-rist.

The usual threats from my loved ones are back: If you don’t gain weight you are fired; I want to weigh you once a week; you look emaciated and sickly; don’t you think you should go back into hop-sital?

No.

I don’t know what I think, really. I don’t know what I want, either. I would really like to just lie down and go to sleep for a while. But hey, have you noticed how good I look?

At least the world is ending tomorrow. That makes me feel better. Bring on the hookers and blow!

Retards.

Thank-you to everyone who has emailed me, asking if I was alright - Hed, Spaz, Dan, Sugar Free, Mike Lisssty, the lovely Crkets Galore. I’m sorry I never responded, and also that I haven’t been to your blogs in a month. I keep starting to read the hundred-plus blogs I follow, I’ve even started to make a comment here and there. But then I become so overwhelmed and daunted by how much catching up there is to do that I just close Mr. Rollins and go to sleep instead.

Which sounds like a bitching idea right about now.

I hope this cheerful missive finds you all well. Ta.

Pis.s. I promise not to be so unbelievably solipsistic and self pitying in my next post.

No, seriously. I can do it.

******************Edited Saturday May 21, 3:50 pm***********************

Oh my Christ. Id just told me about Rafa's Search For Kage post! I just read it, and I am so incredibly touched. What's that? No, I didn't cry! It's just been raining on my face. And I was cutting onions.

If I may be oh so cheesy for a moment, I am so honored that all of you incredible people think so much of me. Thank-you so much, you guys. I've missed you, and I am so grateful that you've missed me, too.