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vendredi 23 mai 2008

Mirror, mirror

The mind is a strange thing... And a bloody sneaky thing, too, sometimes...
This afternoon, I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror (yes, I usually try to avoid it) and HOLY GUACAMOLE barely recognised myself.
And you can tell.
In my mind, I usually reckon I look just about OK. Nothing special, but OK. And then I see myself and realise that I actually spend most of my time looking like an alien-witch with wild, uncontrollable hair, hopeless skin (no zits, just very white) and clothes that probably don't suit me half as much as I think they do.
No wonder D rarely compliments me. No wonder, either, that the only comparisons he makes of me to someone famous are so unflattering.
You know, "Nicole Kidman", or "Julieanne Moore" would be nice (people you could realistically say "look like me" even if it would still be a HUGE stretch of the imagination - obviously, I'd quite like "Angelina Jolie" or "Monica Bellucci", too, but that's just impossible). Instead, I get "Winston Churchill" (may have been a great wartime leader, but he certainly wasn't known for his dashing good looks. And he was a MAN) or "Louis XIV" (another MAN).
Do I really look like these two MEN? I don't think so. I think it's just an indictment of what D really thinks of me (probably not very much most of the time).
That said, I was horrified by my appearance today (though I still refuse to believe I look like a man). My hair! My teeth! My legs (once so shapely)! My weight (not fat, but definitely a) fatter than before and b) fatter than I'd like)!
And summer's around the corner, with all THAT implies (bare legs, short sleeves, SWIMSUITS God help me).
I'm not sure what to do.
I guess not going to bed at 3 am would be a good idea, and probably eating less cr*p would help, too.
But you know, it's just not that easy. It's 2.20 am already (so 3 am looks like a reality once again) and I'm just aching to go and chow down on a bowl of cereal or something.
Those dreaded Midnight Munchies.
Then, all I have to do is go brush my teeth without catching sight of myself in that treacherous bathroom mirror. Perhaps, that way, I'll manage to get to sleep believing I look cute and sexy in my flannel pyjamas!
Now, where did I put those chocolate biscuits...

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