2006-02-27

Well, I do it. I just can't help it. I stew and brood and when a friend points me toward somebody writing about me, I visit the site. If it was something complimentary to brighten my day, not so bad. But it's usually bad. And then it echos in my brain forever... and ever... and ever...

You get the idea.

I'm that girl who remembers every bad thing people say about her over the good. Why? Low self-esteem. As any reader of this thing knows, I have self-esteem that sometimes borders on self-disgust. Not every day, just some. I consider it a fact of my life, something I'll get over in time. I just ride out the "I'm fat, people think I'm ditzy, I hate my thighs, did I mention I'm fat?" days. I do something to get it out of my system, like watch a cheer-up or cry-it-out movie or make a list of things I should (but actually won't) do to improve appearance.

Or I write it out. Ever since I was pointed to two particular blogs, the words just echo in my head. It's like in Carrie, when she hears all the insults in her head, then starts telekinetically murdering everyone(except how I'm not telekinetic and don't have any violence in me and am not ethereally beautiful in that particular Sissy Spacek way).

Anyway, going to write the words here and see if they leave me. I figure it's like when you have to clean your sink. The idea that your sink must be cleaned will torment you till you do it... or, if you're me, write down that you will do it. In my book, that's always just as good as doing it.

So first echoing words of evil:

One lady said I made my dress out of curtains a la Sound Of Music. Big mistake as I was as wide as a window.

She reflected (on The Chair episode) that I'm stubby and was sent home to grow some legs.

Rebut: I'm betting this lady has no fat, short friends in her life. Except for the ones she keeps in a dungeon (out of sight, where fat people really belong) for her amusement. Where she poked them with sharp sticks and dangles pork chops high up or something. Well, I won't fall into her trap, darn it! I detest pork chops. Dangle prime rib and she may be able to add me to her dungeon.

Ah! Feeling a little better after having demonized one detractor.

I understand she has a right to her opinion. But considering her only mentions of me are of physical flaws, I have the right to think of her as a superficial fattie-hater.

Number Two:

Apparently, a male.

"April Walsh wears a hideous floral print to hideously sing a hideous Bjork song. What else can I say? Hideous. For some reason Paula and Randy like her, possibly due to alien influences...April's name was registered by Idol, reserving a website for her name, so it's entirely possible that she will progress, as unimaginable as that seems... a blog which is a bit sketchy and mostly password protected. Also, April apparently had to audition twice to get in: once in San Francisco, and then in Denver."

Rebuts: Well, of course my blog was sketchy then. It was the crappy, standard diaryland profile page. I was forced to privatize my diary. Sketchy. Hmph! I've had this thing for three years. Ain't nobody calling this thing incomplete.

Yes. Auditioned twice. Why's that implied to be a bad thing? That first cut with the producers is the toughest cut to pass. I'd like to see his guy try it.

I still don't care what anyone says. I like that dress.

As far as my singing being hideous- I still wish they'd shown the whole bit I sang. The loud without the quiet is just jarring and strange. And I still wish to GOD they could have shown any one thing I sang in Hollywood. Then people could stop saying how hideous I am. Though this guy probably wouldn't have changed his mind. Abhorrence at first sight, it seems.

From the same guy: "April Walsh has been over-rated from the start, and she gets to go back home to TWoP."

See, this bugs me. Call me anything you want, but over-rated? In what way was I pimped to the tiniest degree that anyone could call me over-rated? I wasn't even rated?

And don't diss TWoP! Hmph! I just bet that guy's been submitting to be a recapper for years, but can't get in. So he hates on TWoP and all who visit. I smell the stench of bitterness even from here.

There! Done! I feel like I've secretly defended myself and can now forget the echoing evil.

In other news: For Lent, I am giving up peanut butter and peanuts and anything that tastes remotely like either. This obsession has gone on long enough.

I promise, promise, promise to recap Denver.