Answer, part six where I talk about me me me me me

Yeah. So I have been avoiding this question. But I guess it’s time to address it. So for today we are attacking this question: What’s the one thing about yourself that you like the most? Warning: A lot of whining ahead!

Well. The problem is that I do not like me. So the proper question would really be what is the one thing about me that I hate the least. Low self esteem? Yes, I do not know if it can get any lower than this. But you will soon see this is for a reason, as we go through the various bad things about me.

I’m ugly. I have never been considered good looking. Not that I have any physical deformities – well, unless my huge breasts are considered one. I could probably get a breast reduction in the public system because they are so big. I’ve always wondered why D cup is being considered big, as I’m filling a G cup. They look something like this (the before pics).

No, those were not actually mine, but some pictures from a breast reduction site. Why am I then not even considering a reduction? Well, I’m so fat. It’s still nicer when people see my big breasts rather than big belly. My thighs are huge. I can not walk far unless there is some fabric between them, because they start burning as they rub against each other. So I almost never wear skirts.

I’m also short. Fat and short, what a great combination! And I have to wear glasses with almost -10 lenses in order to see something besides a blur. I’ve tried contacts, but for some reason I don’t seem to be able to read when I wear them. So I only use them on special occasions, which are few and far between. Then there is always lasik, but I really do not want to do any more medical procedures than absolutely necessary.

And I don’t particularly like my face either. Men have never been flocking around me. In fact just about all my boyfriends have known me for a while before making the first move. So my looks most certainly are not that good. I hate seeing my picture, so I avoid them as much as I can. There are few things I hate more than having my picture taken. Or seeing myself on a video. It is pure torture. At least I can spend my days without having to look at me too often. I almost feel bad for my colleagues when they have to look at me on regular base. So there will never be pictures of me on this site. Never.

And then there is my voice. It is absolutely horrible. Of course I have not heard it other than from tape, but other people have told me that is what it sounds like. Luckily I hear it differently when I speak or I would go crazy. Again, poor colleagues. I can not sing too well. Luckily I know it myself, so I am not torturing others with my singing. Well, besides DS. I’ve been known to sing to him – which usually just means that he tells me to shut up.

I also hate being so shy. I usually sit quietly and let others do the talking. I rarely speak in a group if not addressed directly. And I really, really hate asking other people to do something for me, especially if it involves money. I can ask for things that only use time, but asking for something that needs to be bought… You remember the bag thing? It seems that other collectors are busy approaching stores to see if they want to donate the missing items. I can not bring myself to do that. So I buy. And end up being even more broke than before. It was a small miracle I managed to get a free storage room! But then again I already knew the man I was asking it from, so it was not that bad.

And I hate me for not being able to get anything done. I feel I should be able to just do the things I have to do, but I always procrastinate. So I do not get much done. Right now I should be reading for another exam, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I really should. So I know I’m snot doing what I’m supposed to, and still do nothing. I have no self control. I named my brat . She is Stella. She really needs to go. But how do you make reading scientific books fun? I have nooooo idea.

And aren’t you supposed to like your name? But I hate mine. I got bullied in school where they made fun of my name, as it can be too easily made into a word meaning fishing gear. No, it is not ankaisa, as you might even have guessed. But I’m not telling you what it is unless you really need to know it. I think you would see it if you actually donated with the PayPal link on the sidebar, but I’m not 100% sure. Lynnette? Did you see my real name when donating?

What is left then? Ummm… Well… I can’t think of anything. So the conclusion is that I really, really don’t like me. And you see that it’s really my own fault in many ways. So no wonder not too many others like me either. I had to install a counter just to see if anyone ever comes to this blog. It seems I can’t write posts that are interesting enough or thought provoking enough to even get trolls. I’ve been blogging almost a year and a half and I’m still waiting for my first real troll to arrive. It must really mean I’m not very popular. I’m not even listed here anymore despite at least half a dozen emails.

But I’ll still keep on writing this blog. If I can help at least someone who is looking for symptoms of implantation – well, there really aren’t any – or hyperstim – drink a lot and take it easy – then it’s still worth it.


5 responses to “Answer, part six where I talk about me me me me me

  1. Yes, I saw your name. And I think we are going to have to work on that self-esteem issue of yours! I thought mine was bad. {{Big hugs}} Nobody should go through life feeling that poorly about themselves. Please do something for yourself that will make you feel better on the inside and on the outside. It “sometimes” works for me. Pollyanna out.

  2. You remind me of my sister who is one year older than me. I wish I could say something meaningful, but I cannot, other than I wish you could feel better somehow.

    For the record, I read all of your entries through bloglines and other people may be doing the same, it doesn’t show up on sitemeters (as far as I know).

    Thinking of you,

  3. Are you sure you’re not my twin? I mean, apart from the glasses and, y’know, that whole skin color thing…after all, I’ve always wanted fo visit Finland!

    And y’know, y’never did answer the question: what do you like most about yourself?

    I refuse to believe there isn’t something, no matter how tiny!!

    PS: I also read through bloglines, but readers do show up in Statcounter (.com)

  4. I know I did not actually answer the question. But I really can’t think of anything I like about me. Think, think, think… think harder, think harder, think harder… You really are forcing me to do something I don’t like to do! But since you are twisting my arm, I’ll have to say that at least I’m willing to do something to help others – see the bag thing. That’s what I like about me.

    But thanks for letting me know you are still there. And if anyone ever wants to come to Finland, I can help you with it if you want! It is actually quite nice here, just ask Conan O’Brien 🙂

  5. Pingback: Trying to Stay Sane » No wonder you can never find what you are looking for…

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