Written at Chapters at 7:45 pm

It's raining out, and I didn't even know it until I stepped out for the first time today at around 7 pm or so.

There's something not right about being completely unaware of the weather all day. I feel so out-of-touch with my surroundings.

Oh well.

It seems I have the sort of face that frequently inspires everyone, even homeless people downtown, to say "Hey, smile, it ain't so bad!" and other such things practically every time I go out. Homeless people telling me to smile. That can't be good.

The thing is, I'm never aware of appearing so miserable when this happens. It's just my everyday expression.

I hate being told to smile by strangers. I try to take it in stride, I try to be appreciative, I try not to mind. I really do. But I hate it. What am I supposed to do, suddenly light up before their eyes? It would be unnatural. It makes me sooo bloody self-conscious.

My typical reaction to this is to laugh nervously and force an awkward smile. But I hate doing it. If the people who asked me to smile were my friends, it would be different. But they're not. They're people who have no idea who I am or why I might appear unhappy. Maybe I had a horrible day. Maybe someone died. Maybe I just came from the doctor's office and found out I've contracted some heinous STD (*ahem* ... I haven't had any, really, it was just hypothetical, and probably in poor taste, but oh well). Now, 95% of the time there's actually no real reason for me to look so dismal, but they don't know that. It's the principle. I'm just saying.

I do wish my neutral, everyday expression didn't look so despondent, and I suppose it's something I'll have to work on. I wish I wasn't always being taken for a miserable, humourless bitch because of it. It's not fair. It's not my fault my face naturally settles in such a way that I look as though I'm contemplating hanging myself. Trying to appear cheerful makes my face hurt. There's got to be a happy medium between Sylvia Plath and toothpaste ad model. I just don't know what it is.

Back to the present.

OK, so over the past two days I've gotten at least ten Google hits for things like "birthday spanking", "birthday bumps", and "birthday whacks". From different IPs, too. I don't know why I'm getting those hits all of a sudden, but I'm mildly disturbed. People who find me on search engines are far too fetishy ... I'll have to put some appropriate search engine bait in my html so I can attract a slightly more fitting audience. Just think ... people who want to see people getting spanked are coming to my diary. I can only imagine how disappointing it must be when they discover it's just the online diary of some tame little nerd whose idea of "kinky sex" is doing it on the couch instead of the bed.

Goodnight.

last entry - next entry

older entries latest entry profile notes guestbook cam diaryland


Comments are temporarily out of order until I can afford to get a SuperGold membership again. Yes, that is also why all the images are broken. I apologize. In the meantime, please use the guestbook for anything you may wish to say. Thanks.

Ripest entries on the vine

Huh. - Wednesday, Jun. 21, 2006
Another Diarylander jumps on the LJ bandwagon - Tuesday, Jan. 17, 2006
Moving on? - Thursday, Nov. 24, 2005
Because how complicated can elephant hunting be? I mean, they're so BIG and SLOW! - Friday, Oct. 28, 2005
Busted - Tuesday, Oct. 25, 2005

Want an e-mail whenever I update?:
e-mail:
Powered by NotifyList.com

� Ripe Tomato 2001-2005
Don't steal my shit. I'll send thugs. Oh shut up. I do so have thugs. Quit laughing! Look, just don't steal my stuff, OK?