See? Adorable.
(Update: Derek tells me this is @meaghano. That I have no idea who that is makes her no less adorable)
Ha. Thank you, ma’am.
1. My bosses are going to kill me when they see people linking me to TWITTER on my own company’s site.
2. You guys, we aren’t T-SHIRT MODELS, we just work there. No one is trying to make a statement about ‘regular people’ as models. Ha! We just thought it would be fun to have shirts and thought you guys would like them, too. Do you know how awkward I felt taking these pictures? Can’t you see the fear in my eyes? Ask Noah! I told him I was mentally exhausted afterward and he said, SEE, being a model IS hard!” and I couldn’t really tell if he was joking but it is KIND OF TRUE. These pictures terrify me. I yell “DON’T YOU DARE USE ONE OF ME,” at my coworkers every time they need one for something.
3. I was talking to Jacob last night about how he is trying to be more positive, even down to all the jokey-complaining we all have a lot of fun doing on Twitter sometimes. We are going to try harder to remember that each time we whine about something there is someone with potential for hurt feelings behind it. On my good days, this is what I do: I try to imagine the worst possible person that could read something I wrote does. ie, if I say FUCKING WUFOO SUCKS, the creator of Wufoo’s wife just left him and his dog just died. In an attempt to console himself he signs online and does a search for his company for a little ego boost and then sees my offhand tweet how I would like to fill out a Wufoo form for the 25 ways I would like to mortally wound him, except I can’t fucking figure out the broken style guidelines to do it. Then I consider whether or not I hate Wufoo so much that I am willing to ruin this man’s month with my one whiny complaint (and if I do, well, clearly I have too much hatred in my heart and rather than tweet, I need to go masturbate or eat some ice cream and get even more ‘normal-sized’).
People have Google Alerts on their name, people search for their names on Tumblr and read what you say about them. Believe me, it’s practically all i do. I fail at it and fuck up a lot, but this is my goal: to imagine having to face someone with hurt feelings in real life before I say something mean. Honest to god, I picture having to have coffee with them— them all frowny-faced and me back-pedaling and us both knowing I am a total mean-spirited cunt.
That isn’t to say there isn’t cause for being honest about things or acknowledging when someone or something is being shitty— it’s just weighing the consequences and really evaluating the situation and whether what you’re saying is beneficial or, at the very least, constructive.
Because I really believe that being so negative and judgmental about people, especially their appearance (Jesus!) only leads to your own insecurity. We learned this stuff in the sandbox, people. No, not that sandbox (nerds!). It’s aphoristic, but try revisiting it; try re-arriving at it on your own terms. You imagine everyone to be judging you the way you are judging them. You are mean and so you imagine the world to be mean.
That is just no fucking fun!
When I am feeling like the world is mean, I imagine times I have forgiven people. Instances where I have given people the benefit of the doubt or loved them when maybe I shouldn’t, and then I dare to believe that if I can do it for other people, then surely someone will do it for me sometime.
So root for other people; tell them you like their scarf or that they are beautiful or seem happy. Try fucking throwing it around like we do our bitchy little snide remarks and notice how much nicer the world seems, how much prettier you feel even though you are ‘not-so-thin’, AND HOW MUCH YOU REALLY WANT TO BUY A FUCKING TUMBLR T-SHIRT.
Okay, enough already, it’s Saturday night! I’m going to go stare at myself naked in my full-length mirror.
