… and ugly on the outside. That’s how I’ve been feeling these days. I think the ill-will of the world is wearing on me. Just when you think things can’t possibly get worse, they somehow do. I’m not talking about for me, personally (per se), but the state of this world and society.
I don’t need to go into details; anyone who reads or watches the news knows exactly what I’m talking about. The economy is currently shit, inflation makes day-to-day survival a struggle for the majority, and not only is war in Ukraine still raging, famines happening in Afghanistan and Africa, but now we have genocide happening against the Palestinians in Gaza (after a sickening terrorist attack by Hamas – but, this doesn’t justify the killing of 11,000 innocent civilians – the majority of whom are helpless children, followed by women and civilians who ARE not part of the terrorist organization).
I’m also so sick of all of these keyboard warriors who see themselves as woke AF, and continually post a stream of liberal news links and clips on their IG feeds, but don’t lift a fucking finger in real life to aid the cause or help make a difference locally. The same people who post about saving animals from factory farming or stopping war, don’t so much as join a real-life protest or rescue the freezing stray cat next-door to their apartment. So many posturing hypocrites out there these days… if you really cared about making a difference, you’d take a break from recycling the same posts we are all seeing anyhow, and go DO something.
This world sickens me. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: if women truly ruled the world (i.e. were in positions of power, the head of states, the politicians, the billionaires, the generals, the scientists…), war would not exist. At least not in a physical state where people bomb, shoot, and indiscriminately destroy people.
Not only is the US basically engaged in WWIII and supporting genocide at this point, but the societal collapse has definitely begun, and no where is it more apparent than in my ratchet neighborhood. Literally everyone on the street seems to have mental illness, substance abuse issues, and seems to be a violent offender these days.
Don’t even get my started on the increase in people abandoning pets and abusing pets they never should have got in the first place, since they’re abusive and can’t even afford themselves. Nothing makes me angrier or more sick to my stomach. Why do people who cannot even afford to take care of themselves have kids or bring home animals that they cannot afford to feed, take to the vet/doctor, or properly carefore??? Do they want to make life more difficult than it already is? Furthermore, if you don’t love animals and want your pet for a companion, why do you want it at all? To kick around and take your anger out on? People are so fucking demented I can’t…. I wish I could beat up the people who hurt and abandon animals, or do MUCH MUCH worse.
The older I get, the more I think that people should need to take tests and procure licenses in order to become parents or pet owners; and the government should have organizations that occasionally do surprise visits to all licensed individuals’ homes to make sure the pets and/or kids are being properly cared for.
Poverty and abuse begets poverty and abuse. It’s a sick cycle, and here in East Williamsburg/Bushwick, I have sadly witnessed the cycle first hand.
The latest local sighting causing me strife, is the cat in the smoke shop where Grand Street and Graham Ave. intersect. The smoke shop opened in Spring of this year, and only a couple weeks after they opened, I noticed a cat tree in the corner and two small kittens.
Just seeing that this ratchet smoke shop had kittens already made me worried, but then later in the summer, the fact that they let the cats go in and out onto the busy sidewalk on such a busy intersection, really rubbed me the wrong way. But, not my cats right? Not my place to say something as a stranger, right?
Well, lately, I’ve noticed one of the cats is MIA from the window (the orange and white one), and last night, I noticed the black and white cat limping when it went across the smoke shop floor, as I walked by and looked into the window. I thought about going into the shop then and there, but I was already exploding inside and on the verge of tears. Ladies – you know that feeling when you’re angry and fuming, but also want to explode into tears (or do explode into tears) because you know there is nothing you can do to resolve your anger or be heard and taken seriously? Yeah.
[update: just walked by smoke shop and orange cat is alive!!! I’ll walk by tomorrow to check on the limping cat again and maybe I’ll go in and pretend I’m looking for a bowl or something just so I can ask about the cat without being weird]
There were a group of ratchet local men hanging out inside near the counter when I saw the injured cat go across the floor. What am I going to do as a white woman alone if I go in? They’ll think I’m a Karen who’s sticking her nose in someone else’s business if I go in and question strangers about their cat. I walked by again today and the cat was asleep on its cat tree in the corner. There was another group of men hanging out near the counter and I didn’t feel comfortable going in alone to ask about the cat. I need to find a tactful and gracious way to approach this situation. It doesn’t help that I’m not a smoker and smoke shops disgust me (we have one every fucking block in the city these days). Imagine If I could just openly do bumps of coke or pop MDMA on the streets? I’m not sure how getting all fucked up is acceptable and blowing second hand smoke into the faces of strangers is acceptable…. although, I have seen people shooting up heroin on curbs and subway steps midday, so maybe it is acceptable now, IDK. I digress though…
I’m not sure how to inquire about this cat, since I am genuinely concerned about its welfare, without being viewed as a nosy, white bitch.
Given the state of the economy and my neighborhood, it’s no wonder that no one really gives a shit about animals – especially ones that are not theirs. How can you care about a random cat on the street or a neglected bodega cat, when you can’t even take your own cat to the vet, buy winter coats for your kids, or pay your rent??? This economy is in a sad state lately.
I don’t know how people feed families. I can hardly feed me, my fiance, and my two cats these days without going into debt. And by all standards, I make decent money (maybe “good” in other parts of the country… not NYC, I guess…). It’s all so fucked up. I’m going to be back to the days when I had to decide between a roll of paper towels or coffee creamer if inflation continues to go higher. I’m serious….
On a much more superficial note, back to the Hole – referenced title of this blog (Courtney Love, for you cretins who don’t know good music). I have been feeling so ugly lately. I think it’s a combination of depression and anxiety honestly, brought on by the current state of the world. The world truly seems hopeless lately. Humanity is clearly a lost cause.
I’ve been feeling so unattractive. I stopped drinking during the week (I have drank the last two weekends, but am sober Monday – Friday), thinking that maybe it will help me lose the weight I’ve seemed to slowly put on over the last few years. I thought it might improve my mood as well. It has improved my energy levels, but not my dour outlook on life. I feel like my mind is also functioning at a slightly higher caliber than it was when I was drinking during the week. But I feel uglier than ever. Old, and ugly.
As if a slowing metabolism and changing body-fat distribution wasn’t enough, my face seems to have lost all sharpness (not that it was ever “snatched”, but I certainly had more semblance of cheekbones and jawline than I do now). My face is fat and round, and beginning to fall. No amount of botox is going to lift my sagging jowls and eyes. I saw some candid photos someone took of me recently, and I look like Lady Gaga, and NOT the only attractive version of Lady Gaga, when she was in her Alejandro phase…. I look like a chubby, lady gaga, minus the talent. I’m considering cheek filler, but it’s fucking expensive, and knowing my luck, it would just make my face look even fatter….
It sucks feeling this way when you’re trying to plan your wedding. All I keep dwelling on is how thin and fresh-faced I would have been if only I’d been getting married 5 years ago, when I was 30. How did things go downhill so fast? Not that I ever considered myself “pretty”, but at least I used to be skinny.
Now, I have to fucking work to be thin, and even then, I’m no where near as thin as I was (granted I was also eating one meal a day back then….). Oopsie.
Now I just don’t have the willpower to starve myself anymore. I don’t know what changed. I guess I got lazy… lazy and fucking HUNGRY (all the TIME). I’m hoping cutting out alcohol might help.
Anyhow, when I was a little girl dreaming of her wedding (and you can ask my mom, I wanted to get married at age 3 after watching The Little Mermaid, so I’ve been dreaming about my wedding for a LONG time…), I never dreamed I’d be a 36-year old, peri-menopausal woman looking at slinky wedding dresses, and needing to plan the best time to get fresh botox before my big day. Like if I got married 5 years ago, I would have looked great in any wedding dress (not to toot my own horn, but looking back, I was certainly in my PRIME). We only see how attractive we were in retrospect.
Oh well. I will be 36 when I finally get married (if we are all still alive next year), and now I have to actually worry about how my boobs will look in a low-cut silk gown and when to get botox before the big day. Fun times! I’m clearly an ageist against even myself, but hey – this is how society brain-washed me to be, as a woman. It’s not my fault that society told me I should be young, fresh-faced, fertile and under the age of 35 when I walk down the aisle.
Speaking of kids, I really can’t believe people are still having kids and getting pregnant in the year 2023, but that’s just my educated opinion. Ignorance is bliss, am I right?
Cheers bitches.
Emaciated 30-year old Kelsey was ready to rock any wedding dress… now I have to worry about how my boobs will hang under white satin….
Clearly I was living on a diet of air….
2018 Kelsey better take a backseat, because 2024 Kelsey 2.0 is coming back with a vengeance….
I have become the type of girl/woman I always felt bad for. The one that says stuff like “I used to be skinny! Look: ” and then proceeds to pull up pictures on their iPhone and show you what they looked like 5 years ago, as if you doubted them, or as if you even care what they weigh(ed) or look(ed) like at all. I once worked with another manager at Hollister who was like that. I would watch her eat bags of Wawa Old Bay potato chips, and get Friendly’s burgers and fries every day for lunch, and then literally cry because she kept gaining weight. She would pull up old pictures and show them to everyone in the manager’s office with her, and be like “but I used to be so skinny!!!”. I feel like that is me now, and I don’t like who I have become. This sounds like a scene from Mean Girls, but the Abercrombie/Hollister stores were a breeding ground of eating disorders and low self esteem for employees and a competition of who was the thinnest most of the time I worked there.
Getting older is a bitch though, and I am not even going through menopause (YET). You don’t appreciate what you have until it’s gone. I know I should appreciate what I have now – a functional, strong, body. I am healthy. yada yada yada…. no one ever told me my metabolism would shit the bed at 32, or that the bottle of wine I drank every other day during COVID times would catch up to me LOL. JK. (but not really).
The High Heeled C*ntessa 