Disjunct
Who I Want To Be:
A chignon-wearing, icy, snooty, drily and cuttingly hilarious, razor-thin, look down her nose at the pitiful morons who've had the audacity to try to hurt her sort of woman. She smokes cigarettes in a long holder and is totally unflappable, patiently and elegantly waiting for the losers to stop spazzing around with their idiocy, and she doesn't get hurt because how could those ridiculous, ghastly cretins possibly even be important enough to merit her notice. You know the type. Like Auntie Mame's (Rosalind Russell ROCKS!) best friend, but without the drunkenness. She's usually best friends with the protagonist, and they laugh together at all the poor capering louts all around them. She doesn't need anybody. She's cool.
Who I Am:
Someone who cares WAY. TOO. MUCH. what other people think. Someone who gets duped over and over again by cheaters and fake friends. Someone who can't get over being lied to and lied about and underestimated and overlooked and laughed at and fooled and used and left. Someone who keeps falling deeply in friendship and love with new people time after time in spite of this pattern. Someone who consistently gives more than she gets. Someone who really needs to be protected, defended, and loved.
Only part of the problem. Trust me. But it's really nice to admit that. I can't wait to start telling my stories. It's going to be really therapeutic, I can tell.
A chignon-wearing, icy, snooty, drily and cuttingly hilarious, razor-thin, look down her nose at the pitiful morons who've had the audacity to try to hurt her sort of woman. She smokes cigarettes in a long holder and is totally unflappable, patiently and elegantly waiting for the losers to stop spazzing around with their idiocy, and she doesn't get hurt because how could those ridiculous, ghastly cretins possibly even be important enough to merit her notice. You know the type. Like Auntie Mame's (Rosalind Russell ROCKS!) best friend, but without the drunkenness. She's usually best friends with the protagonist, and they laugh together at all the poor capering louts all around them. She doesn't need anybody. She's cool.
Who I Am:
Someone who cares WAY. TOO. MUCH. what other people think. Someone who gets duped over and over again by cheaters and fake friends. Someone who can't get over being lied to and lied about and underestimated and overlooked and laughed at and fooled and used and left. Someone who keeps falling deeply in friendship and love with new people time after time in spite of this pattern. Someone who consistently gives more than she gets. Someone who really needs to be protected, defended, and loved.
Only part of the problem. Trust me. But it's really nice to admit that. I can't wait to start telling my stories. It's going to be really therapeutic, I can tell.
posted by grudge girl at 10:25 PM
3 Comments:
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