There's a trend amongst the blogesphere recently - people are being honest. Instead of posting pics that they had obviously styled, laboured and posed for, people are starting to admit to their imperfections. About effing time. If I see another girl with pictures of herself claiming to be "a mess" yet looking polished, I'm going to lose it. And then there's the opposite - the people claiming to be in constant chaos, pointing out all their quirks. Here's what I believe: if you're actually a weirdo, you don't know it and you certainly wouldn't be telling everyone about it. Just like the woman riding a scooter in nothing but pantyhose and a bikini top through Parkdale - she doesn't know she's a total nutjob, because she legitimately is. If she wasn't, she'd be wearing pants or at least a skirt over her sheer hosiery. So let's everyone knock it off and man up to being a)normal and b)less than perfect. Deal? Super.
Here's my confession: phoniness irritates the bejeezus out of me. I'd rather read about someone being truly who they are without trying to impress everyone than some Barbie or Carrie Bradshaw wannabe pleading for attention. These strong feelings make me wonder why I'm so bitter about it. Am I jealous? I don't think so because I actually really love myself. Should I stop being so hard on people? Probably yes. I hold myself to high standards and silently hold people to those same standards - except I don't tell them about those standards. Makes it pretty hard for them to live up to them, eh?
I'm more Captain Von Trap than Maria. I love being fun and silly and letting loose, but I also expect people (myself included) to clean up, brush their hair and pay their bills. I guess I should also confess that I get insanely annoyed by try-hards. Always have, always will. This includes some of my own friends. Sorry, but if you're a lifetime butt kisser, you've likely gotten on my nerves at one time or another.
I must also confess that I'm still biting that one nail and I ripped my cuticle this morning. It's still bleeding. I have fashioned my own bandage out of tissue and tape. It looks pathetic. I'm not perfect. Are you? Wouldn't life be easier if we stopped trying to be somebody we're not and just lived our authentic lives? Try it just for one day.
Also, I rarely add photos to my blog. I know they're pretty and everyone likes them, but I don't stress over it. Sorry, I'll work on that guys.