Saturday, July 2, 2011

Too much Barry Watson

I walked out of watching I Am Number Four tonight. I think my family decided to stick with it, even though they were laughing at the script constantly. It came across as a really bad version of Twilight, and Twilight is bad enough (read the first book, and watched the first movie. Didn't enjoy either experience, but it gave me a glimpse of what is making all the teenage girls go gaga.).

Plus Barry Watson was in it. It makes me feel a bit shameful, but it took me a total of 5 seconds to recognize him when he guest starred in Drop Dead Diva last year. That doesn't sound bad, except he was wearing clown paint, a clown wig, and clown clothes for the first 3 quarters of the show. I recognized him because I knew his voice so well from watching Samantha Who? (Andrea was my favorite character, btw. I thought Todd, Barry Watson's character, was a loser, and wanted Samantha to end up with the filthy rich, dark and handsome man. "You mean you weren't rooting for the underdog? The artsy, clingy, and whiny photographer?" No. I was not. But, come to think of it, Samantha always rubbed me the wrong way too. Anyways...)

Hanging out with the girls from last summer's program was fun. Their mom answered the door, and at first, I thought that she must be hunched over. Never had I felt so tall. It took me several seconds to regain my composure, but she didn't notice. My height didn't bother her either, and she gestured me in, the tall, redhead who felt like she was suddenly 8 feet tall, with a welcoming smile on her face.

When I got home, I was telling this story to Mom and Dad. They laughed, and asked me the names of the girls. I said, "Chocolate and Kooley and--" I was cut off.


"Well, those aren't their real names. But that is what they call each other, and I call them that too, out of habit." I told them their real names.

Mom jokingly said, "So...those are their street names?"

"...yeah." I guessed this close to was right. I had honestly never given it much thought last summer.

The girls and I went to a park nearby that has a beach on a lake. It wore us all out, though. Me first, I guess because I'm getting "old" or something. Now I'm contemplating whether or not to go to the gym, which got me thinking about why I wanted to go to the gym when I am so tired. That made me think about what I don't like about my body, which made me feel moody, which made me SNAP out of it.

Why do I feel bad about my body? Why am I moody? What is wrong with my life????

Nothing. Nothing is wrong. My life is awesome. My body is pretty great too. Why do I want to pick everything apart and create a problem? There is no problem!

This then made me think about how self-absorbed I must be, that I have to create a problem like that. Geez. "Whoa is me" attitudes get on my nerves, but I guess I put one on too sometimes.

Better check myself. The gym is for getting stronger, being healthier, and remembering how strong I have already become. I enjoy my body being in shape, but I can't let it be all about looks, or else I'm doomed to never be happy with myself.

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