Smoking Section

goddess, can you hear me now?

I have a couple of things that I want to write about today. Let's hope I remember them all and can write them coherently. First off, last night I went to see Joel perform in Sounds of the Holidays. The show was ok, but two and a half hours later I was ready to not hear another Christmas song and go home to bed.
Last night I finished reading The Da Vinci Code. That book is really, really, really good. Inspiring and educational from the feministic point of view, too. Don't know what I am talking about? Well, read the book. It takes all the fun out of it if you know. But it takes a very, very cool view of Christianity mainly, but all religions truly. Definite props to Dan Brown. He researched like a mother fucker to get all that information. It was a good book. Not disappointing in any respect. There were a couple of times when the characters where so close to the truth only to have something get in their way, but I am used to stories like that, being an X-Files fan and all, so it didn't bother me too much. Just kind of aggrivating because you want to know. But that situation only came up once or twice. Nothing to bog down the reading. But, unlike The X-Files, the truth was found, so that was good. Getting there was all the fun anyway.
Another thing I wanted to write about is self esteem. What made me think of this was a trip to the doctor's office this morning for my dad and for me to get a flu shot. While I was waiting for my dad to get done I was reading the only thing that was around, Seventeen and Cosmo magazines. Everywhere there were ads about looking better, stories about how to get a guy or why doesn't the guy like me, or how to dress or how to look, how to lose weight, how to be better and prettier and sexier, what music to listen to... ect. I luckily, have never been faced with that problem. I never thought I should look like that person in the magazine or on television. I never thought I had to dress like my peers or lose weight because it is socially acceptable to be thin and pretty. (and I know what is is to be made fun of because you are fat/ugly. I was fat, very fat, in elemantary school. Elemantary school kids are ruthless and mean.) I have never been on a diet. Never really had an exercise regime. I have always been fine with myself. I know I am attractive, I know I am smart, I know I am good enough, I am the only one who has to be ok with me. Everyone else can fuck off if they don't like it. I don't have the ability to see how people can loath themselves perpetually. One thing it gets old, fast. No one wants to hear how much you hate yourself. Oh, starving artist. Sit around in your gloom and your depression and see how far you get in life. Ask Sylvia Plath....oh, wait....you can't. Now, you little depressed gals, I am not saying Sylvia was a horrible person. She was fucked up, a lot of other things happened in her life to cause her to stick her head in the oven. She was a great artist who had some paternal problems. But just because you are depressed and hate your daddy does not automatically make you a poet. I was depressed for a while and wrote some shitty poetry. I don't do that anymore. I called myself a writer because I can write. I can write in any genre and get by. I have been published in newspapers, newsletters, anthologies, ect, but I am not a poet. But i digress. My point is that people need to not think about what other people think. The first, and really only, person you need to feel comfortable about is yourself, and the rest will follow quite nicely.