Friday, August 1, 2008

Hating the Haters

It seems like ever since I started this project other people sent specifically to destroy my usually very good self-esteem have been scuttling out of the gutter like palmetto bugs, which of course means that they’re everywhere, impossible to kill, and have this amazing ability to covertly sneak into the tiny wedges of my life.

A woman artist who I have been working with for years asked me if I’d put on some weight recently (which you should never, ever, ever, ask an artist’s model because she will either deck you, switch into starvation mode, or if she’s me, spend months planning the downfall of your entire way of life) to which I replied “Yeah I gained about 12 pounds over the summer” her sudden response being a very enthusiastic “Oh my, that’s a lot of weight!” Catty British bitch. I believe this entire conversation totally overstepped her boundaries, as there is a certain unspoken contract that I feel comes with allowing someone to see you naked. I decided I was going to punish her for breaking it. I managed to sneak up behind her in the Earth Fare but was unfortunately interrupted by an acquaintance before I was able to shift her in the kidney with that pointy nail filey thing on my clippers.

Downright nasty people suck, but I really hate the ones that are sweetly ignorant.

Just a few weeks ago at Taco night at the Whig, my noshing was interrupted by a girl that had once taken a class with me in college who, with the innocent lilt of someone who has only the very best intentions, asked me if I was pregnant. I swallowed the urge to beat her with my chair and told her exactly how I felt on the subject of small children. They’re filthy, disgusting, they serve no purpose other than to drain the funds of their parents in the hopes that their offspring will one day validate them as human beings, which they never seem to do, and I’m a broke poet cum artist’s model who can barely afford 50 cent taco night. Hopefully, that girl will never speak to me again, best case scenario she’ll choke on a razor blade. Clearly, I lack the patience for a baby at this time.

What’s worse are the “such a pretty face” people, who try to nullify my fat by praising the virtues of my genetics. Not that I’m against people trying to stroke my ego, but you’re terrible at it. Stop. Right. Now. You are talking to a woman who gets up in the morning puts on her lotion and makes kissy-face at her gorgeous self in the full length. I don’t need your help.

Watch out haters. Because I’m riding my ten square foot ass right past your house.


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