I want to be a model

But i am too much of a realist. Pah. OK, i was awestruck by watching all of 2003's America's Next Top Model episodes on a VH1 marathon today. I was packing and home alone and i needed some noise in the background and that was it. Needless to say, no packing was done. I do not like reality TV shows. I hate watching other people do nothing really important and pass it off as entertainment (especially famous people. i really don't like celebs....or rather the stigma around celebs and everyone's fascination with their every action.....but i digress) but for some inexplicable reason, i was sucked into this show today and lo and behold......i was....... riveted. The women are stunning. They have presence. They have soul. They have hair and make-up people. I believe if i had beautiful skin (which i soooooo don't. I think that is heaven's ongoing joke.) and was at least three inches taller....i would seriously want to be a model. I hate people who stereotype them. They are not bubbleheaded idiots. They are very impressive women, some of them. And perhaps if my outer beauty was a thing brooded over and recognised, i wouldn't have to do all the brooding and self degredation and i would have enough incentive to work on the inner moi. Probably not, but modelling looks bloody fun. And every girl wants to feel beautiful sometimes.

I had a talk with the Whore of Babylon today. You know who you are. Anyway, we had a very interesting conversation where we went around in complete circles. I was talking him up to himself and trying to make him see that he is the bling in the object of his interest's eyes. And then i chucked everything i told him to do out the window when the convo unfortunately turned it's lights on naked, unprepared me. And i played the role of bumbling hypocrite with an elegance and grace that i'm even apalled at. Seriously. i had an ultimatum. Talk to Peanut. I honestly did try. I had a prelim talk, just barely broaching the subject of definition with Peanut. And i realised that he was not going to take me seriously. So i am not talking to him. Period. I am not having the dreaded "CONVERSATION" with him. I am going to let sleeping dogs lie. And cry myself to sleep. Not over Peanut. But over.......i don't quite know right now.

I have to go. I can't see the computer clearly anymore, my vision has become blurred.