What I am and what I can be

Pretending to be someone you are not. Isn't that just the rub? I do this everyday, but not in costume...I'm in work clothes, going-out clothes, grub clothes.

I want this blog to be funny, so I write the ha-ha's because that's what a blog should be, shouldn't it? I don't want to be too self-indulgent of myself, or write intense soul searching entries (like this one) because, let's face it, I wouldn't read it myself. I want to be so many different things, and care too much about how I appear to others.

So I try to be funny, because that's what I would want to read about. I wouldn't want to read about the doubtful times, the rough times. I want to be clever and witty and brilliant. But I'm not. I used to call myself a good writer, but I am actually just a glorified diary writer.

So I sit and try and find out the humour of what happened today. Like the fact that I won third place at work's costume contest. Not because of my fantastic Alice in Wonderland costume...no, no...but because the judge thought I was dressed as a "naughty nurse". Not just a "nurse" but a naughty one. A slutty one. Great, now I have something to label me in a work environment, negatively at that.

Sidenote: How anyone thought that a nurse carries a Cheshire Cat under one arm is beyond me.

But it wasn't funny. It wasn't funny at all. It made me want to curl up in a ball. It ruined my day and I am sad now. And deflated. Nothing I do is good.

Like when I decided to take some classes to improve myself and meet new people. I actually came out of that experiment with an ENEMY. I mean, who takes a marketing class and comes out with someone who hates your guts. Oh right. That would be me.

I once went to a psychic who told me that things are made purposefully difficult for me, because I am being tested. Things never come easy. And it is because of all of the pain I have to face that I will become unbreakable. But I'm not exactly loving the process. You know when you start to feel paranoid that the whole world is out to get you...well I'm not paranoid, it really is.

I've had so much good in my life and so much bad, and I feel that I am never quite with the group. I'm always running to catch up. I live and breathe on the fringes of friendships, always the "third girl" (ladies, you know what that means), always the last one asked for coffee, the first to be picked on, the last to be given anything freely and without consequence.

I want to be so many things, but most of all I want to be liked for who I am. God that sounds so pathetically sad. I want to go through a day knowing that I am liked, and feel warm inside with that thought. I want to know that there is no-one out there that wishes to see me embarrassed or hurt. I want to be the funny, carefree girl, but it isn't to be.

I hope I will one day see the meaning of all of it. A great "ah-ha" moment at the age of 80. I hope it is all worth it. I want to be worth it.