Cats and Hand-Me-Downs

Sar: http://rhettandlink.com/blog/got-mail/
Amber: aww! that's awesome
Amber: your confidence must be through the roof right now.
Sar: :D Sort of XD In my own way
Sar: My own, hiding-in-my-shirt way
Amber: haha, but you aren't hiding.
Sar: I hid in my sweatshirt earlier and, forgetting it has a zipper, nearly sliced my septum off XD
Amber: ...not good
Sar: That was awesome times
Sar: Someone said "We love you!" and I ducked down like a turtle. A turtle wearing a zippy sweatshirt.
Amber: i just imagined our turtle at work wearing that and giggled
Sar: :D It's orange and it says 1969. For the visual
Sar: I guess it's a hoodie
Sar: I bought it so I could be like Adam Sandler and have a "red-hooded sweatshirt"... but it's orange. I'm always a little bit off



I've had low self-esteem since 5th grade. That was the year when I moved away from all of my close friends to Alexandria. I was suddenly the new girl; the weird one. I dared to like cats and wear hand-me-downs. Kids teased me. Kids in school tease everyone. It's part of life. I can't even remember what exactly was said, but something stuck and I stopped being outspoken and wild. My sense of humor was reserved for my few (mostly younger) friends and the strange wildlife of the creeks behind our houses.

Even when I see something I've written or done as 'good', something in my brain tells me that it can't possibly be as good as I think it is. It'd be vain to think so. *erase erase erase* Thoughts like this are as common for me as thoughts of squirrels and Rhett & Link's next project and such-and-such song needing to be played again so I can hear that one part. I berate myself about it and flail. I annoy myself, but I can't help it. After all, I like cats and wear hand-me-downs.