Today was a good day. I went to a massive shopping mall a few miles up the highway. I got some new clothes; I got some new hats; I also got new sunglasses. I've realized that even if no one else is noticing me and thinking, "damn, that girl is fine," I still want to look good for myself. Besides, hello? Hats! Mall people freak me out a little bit. Particularly the girls. There is an eerie resemblance among all of them. Especially the ones who frequent Abercrombie, Hollister, and occasionally American Eagle. They all really look the same. Not that I have anything against those stores or the people who shop there. It just bothers me that they all carry essentially the same product, and their prices don't always reflect the quality of the clothes (price being high, quality being not so much). But enough of my rant, as I sit here in American Eagle jeans, which, I would like to note, do not highlight my butt-curves as there are about four or five inches of extra fabric to them. They're comfy. I'm also wearing Doc Martens and a choker I made in fourth grade of braided strips of cloth. So my judgments aren't completely hypocritical. It is, however, possible that these fashion choices of mine are the reason why, when at BU parties, I was rarely approached by guys. Oh, the irony. Dress like everyone else, get noticed. Make slightly different fashion choices, and no one really cares. Or of course there's the possibility that all of this is in my head, and the reason no one walks up to me is because I usually look very uncomfortable and unapproachable when I'm in a situation with people I don't know. Or a combination of the two. All things that have been on my mind; all things that, really, do not matter at all. But we're allowed that every once in a while.
In other news, I'm starting to lose the feeling in my finger tips again. Just about ten days ago I received the chemo drug Vincristine, the one that damages nerve endings. So this isn't wholly unexpected, although it is still unwelcome. The good news is I know that the feeling will come back. It was almost completely back before they gave me the chemo, so I know the damage isn't permanent. I'm pretty sure that when I finish all of these treatments at the end of August, my body is going to be so damaged that it will take months to repair itself. It will probably be years until I am back to where I was before any of this started happening. But that's still far in the future. Right now I'm concerned with not freaking out before I have to go to the hospital again, as well as going somewhere this weekend where I can wear my new Pants! And despite the, "Wah, I feel so sorry for myself" first paragraph, I do feel great, and I'm not actually wallowing in self pity. Just reflecting. Oh, and also, I got a blue tye-dyed t-shirt with a peace sign on it. I am super pumped. Rock on. Pax.