SOMEBODY COME WITH ME TO FIND THIS WOMAN SO I CAN TAKE A KNIFE TO HER VAGINA. I SWEAR TO GOD, THIS IS THE MOST DISGUSTING THING I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE. I COULD ONLY WATCH 5 SECONDS OF IT BEFORE I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO THROW UP. REBLOG THIS OR SOMETHING. IDK. THIS C*NT NEEDS TO BE ARRESTED.
shopping for jeans. i swear to god. these stores advertise that they have jeans for “everyone.” i don’t know who “everyone” is but it most certainly is not me. i try n their “short” jeans (you know, made for “short” girls) and they’re still like 5 inches too long on me. now i know i’m shorter than most normal chicks my age but COME ON. not everyone is taller than 5’3”. it pisses me off so much. and then they make the jeans as if people don’t have hips or thighs. GUESS WHAT. i have both. because i’m a freaking italian woman with hips and thighs. so usually i have to pay extra to get my jeans HEMMED so i can actually wear them without tripping over them. but then i found this store called delia’s that makes jeans in REALLY short sizes. SHORT SIZES THAT ACTUALLY FIT ME. i need a 26” inseam. so i go to the store tonight and they tell me they don’t CARRY 26” inseams (even though it’s advertised all over the damn store) and that i have to order it online. so whatever, i try on the jeans there to see what size waist i need and i buy some shit and leave. i come home, go on the website and GUESS WHAT. they don’t have 26” inseams for the jeans i tried on. what the fuck. i swear. i shouldn’t be punished for being short! akjshfjsahdfkjlasdklfasdg show some love for the short girls :’(
So today I went to the “emergency clinic” to have the doctor look at my shoulder/neck/swollen-ness and whatever is eating my legs. I came outta there with 3 prescriptions - two for my “sprained rotator cuff” and one for the “allergic reaction” on my legs. I don’t know how I sprained my rotator cuff or what I’m allergic to on my legs. Pants maybe? I have no idea. All I know is, I hope this stuff works… But what was really nice was that while I was there, the doctor made me feel like I was his only priority. Everything was about me. While I sat in the room, he had no other patients. He had nothing else to do that day but take care of me. I had forgotten what it was like to be treated as if you’re the only person in the room. I think everyone should be treated like that…
i don’t know what i did to deserve this pain, but i must have done something major. i don’t care if you read this and think it’s disgusting. i need people to know what’s going on with me. something is wrong with my legs. it started in july when there were a million tiny bug bite-looking marks down my entire right leg. i was in jersey when i noticed it. i was embarrassed, even around my family, to wear shorts because i felt like everyone was staring at my leg. i figured i was just attacked by a mosquito and it would all go away in a couple of days or so. but exactly 4 days later, someone noticed my leg and asked what happened to it. they couldn’t mask their disgust. i tried to laugh it off but inside all i wanted to do was put on a pair of pants in 90 degree weather. the rest of the day i prayed that no one else would mention the weird marks on my leg. fast forward to today: i now have red marks up and down both of my legs. they’re painful. it hurts to walk because they’re on and behind my knee and when i bend it, it kills. my dermatologist wasn’t able to help me. the internet wasn’t able to help me. i’m thinking about going to the emergency clinic (for the second time this summer) and begging them for answers because i haven’t found any yet. i need this to go away. it’s painful and embarrassing. and to make everything worse, i somehow managed to fuck up my neck tuesday night/wednesday morning just in time for my vacation to hershey park. couldn’t turn my head, couldn’t look up, couldn’t look down. couldn’t lift my left hand above my ribcage. it took me 45 minutes to take a shower because i could only use one hand to shampoo/condition my hair (and i have a lot of hair). and it’s swollen! so swollen, in fact, that you can’t see my left collarbone which usually sticks out. so walking around hershey park was a real treat: i couldn’t move my head and it hurt to walk because of whatever is all over my legs. back to my legs again - yesterday when i was in the park, some fucking indian girl, who was my age, was staring at my legs like i was growing people outta them. she was so disgusted it was ridiculous; and she didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was staring. so i gave her the meanest look i could ever possibly give someone. i swear, she almost started crying. it’s a shame she didn’t, actually. i don’t know what the hell is going on with me but i want it all to stop. i’m in pain and i need it to go away. so don’t call me to hang out tonight because i won’t. i’m gonna lie on the couch, take the last of my percocets i saved from my wisdom teeth extraction, and watch shitty television.
don’t bother me today unless you’re going to be extremely nice to me. and i’m not talking that “fake nice.” don’t waste my time with your fucking sympathy either. i don’t want to hear it. the only thing i want to hear is someone going, “HEY, I’M HERE TO MAKE THINGS ALL BETTER!” and then physically make me better.
have a beautiful day everyone.
and if by any chance you’re thinking something like, “there goes christine being a drama queen again” fuck you.
did you ever notice the little freckle right under my left eye? or the one on my nose that looks like a nose ring? there’s two more on my nose, too… and one to the left of my nose. there’s one close to my right eyebrow. there’s one on my right cheek and two above my upper lip. and there’s one right on the left bottom side of my lip. and if you look really carefully, there’s one past my hairline; but it can only be seen when i have my hair in a ponytail. i wonder if you’ll read this and remember my freckles. maybe you’ll think, "she missed the one on her right earlobe between her two earring holes." or maybe you’ll wonder what i’m talking about and ask yourself, "did she really have that many freckles…?" and maybe you’ll wish you had taken the time, just once, to look closer at the subtle things that make me me.
when the yankee game is on, when i sit in the chair in the living room, when i hear that certain noise that reminds me of how it sounded when you came down the hall with your walker, the times you reached over to hold my hand, your old car in our driveway… these things remind me of you. i miss you more and more every day.