Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Better.


There's a sorta psychology to losing a lil chub. You still think you're larger and proceed to buy clothing too large for you because it's what you're used to, and you have to deal with people's reactions. You must process everything while keeping your ego in check and making time for hours of Hulu to catch up on Nikita and Bones...also American Horror Story.
So now that I have processed and am able to be proud of myself without becoming a conceited bitch....I just think I'm better than certain things....people...situations.
I look at dudes I have crushed on and am like: REALLY? I thought you were worthy of frequent bangin' and possible breakfast making?! Meh.

Then it doesn't help that when I go to stores like say...Fresh to purchase soap- love love love their soaps, lip balms, lotions (that won't kill me with orange oil), etc.- and the cashier ringing me up is looking at me like he knows me. Like he's seen me on TV...because I look like a TV star...and have been on TV (oh snap). He says he has serviced me before- HAVE NEVER MET THIS DUDE IN MY LIFE!
He is starting to creep.me.out.
A few days later, I come home to find a card from Fresh in the mail. I am thinking: ooo what is this new product you want me to try Fresh??
Instead I find the above note written to me by the cashier who...thought he knew me from somewhere....

The moral of the story is, there is a reason I think I am celeb and therefore BETTER because shit like this happens.

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