Imagine's Journal

When I was a little girl, I secretly (very secretly) wanted to grow up to be just like Diana Ross. My father would have locked me in a room and thrown away the key, had he known. I can't sing like Diana. . .




and I'm seriously still trying to develop a butt like that - but I *can* dance in heels.



Upside Down

I said upside down
You're turnin' me
You're givin'love instinctively
Round and round You're turnin' me

Upside down
Boy, you turn me
Inside out
And round and round
Upside down
Boy, you turn me
Inside out
And round and round

Instinctively you give to me
The love that I need
I cherish the moments with you
Respectfully I say to thee
I'm aware that you're cheating
When no one makes me feel like you do

Upside down
Boy, you turn me
Inside out
And round and round
Upside down
Boy, you turn me
Inside out
And round and round

I know you got charm and appeal
You always play the field
I'm crazy to think you are mine
As long as the sun continues to shine
There's a place in my heart for you
That's the bottomline

Upside down
Boy, you turn me
Inside out
And round and round
Upside down
Boy, you turn me
Inside out
And round and round

Instinctively you give to me
The love that I need
I cherish the moments with you
Respectfully I say to thee
I'm aware that you're cheating
But no one makes me feel like you do

Upside down
Boy, you turn me
Inside out
And round, round
Upside down
Boy, you turn me
Inside out
And round and round

Upside down
Boy, you turn me
Inside out
And round and round
Upside down
Boy, you turn me
Inside out
And round, round

Upside down you're turnin' me
You're givin'love instinctively
Round and round You're turnin' me
I say to thee respectfully

Upside down You're turnin' me
You're givin'love instinctively
Round and round You're turnin' me
I say to thee respectfully
Upside down You're turnin' me
You're giving love instinctively
Round and round you're turnin' me

When youre weary, feeling small,
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all;
Im on your side. when times get rough
And friends just cant be found,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
When youre down and out,
When youre on the street,
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you.
Ill take your part.
When darkness comes
And pains is all around,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.

Sail on silverbird,
Sail on by.
Your time has come to shine.
All your dreams are on their way.
See how they shine.
If you need a friend
Im sailing right behind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.

I admit it’s been fun. Suddenly slim really does change everything, little did I know. So it all started as a bid for greater health. Woopsie, that’s a lie. It all began because a friend of mine started to pay attention to me in a boy-pays-attention-to-girl kind of a way. Effortlessly, while basking in the pretty yellow sunshine of his delightful attention, my ass started to get smaller and my hair started becoming larger. Eventually, I started investing actual money in the haircut which, by local accounts, rendered me (heaven help us) ‘in style’ by somebody’s notion of the thing. And the while the ass continued to get smaller, the heels suddenly started becoming higher (and higher). Lo and behold, Out of the Clear Blue Sky, people who scarcely knew me were being all nice and asking after my weekend. Since I’m a social klutz, it took me a while to realize that these people had not suddenly become kind and generous. . . I simply look different from how I had looked. Intrigued, started to pay more attention and realized that boys like collarbones. Don’t ask, since I have no idea of how collarbones could possibly be someone’s ‘thing’. But it works. If I want to have a good day and have people treat me gently, all I really have to do is wear clothes that fit, are in reasonable condition and style; include high heels and show my collarbones. Truth be told, I’d have been doing this all along if I’d only realized. It even works on women inasmuch as they look to the men for leadership. If a powerful guy smiles benignly at you, all the women who see it are completely aware that it would behoove them to treat you well. It’s like dominoes. It’s unexpectedly amusing. I keep wondering if I’m the only one who sees through all this.


Meanwhile, this phenomenon has wrought havoc with what used to be a very quiet and stable social life. I didn’t date and that was that. Nobody would make the mistake of thinking that coffee or lunch was actually a DATE with me. It’s just a meal or a beverage. That simple life is mine no more. Now, all of a sudden, everything as *implications*. I know (I know), you don’t have to tell me, I can see my own picture. I’m not even a pretty girl! Yet still. Young guys don’t want to hang out with me anymore for fear someone will think it’s a date (I’m middle aged) and men who I am not considering dating have begun to make it clear that they assume that we are in a ‘relationship’ because I spent fifteen minutes reassuring them about something over a muffin in the cafeteria. I swear I am not exaggerating. It is about the weirdest thing EVER.

For the time being, I’m pretty much stumped. I think I’ll try to enjoy myself, but at the same time, try to figure out the rest the rules as quickly as I can. Oh, and espadrilles. I need some espadrilles -- with heels. Spring weather is just ‘round the corner!

  I’ve often told friends that I can’t get addicted even when I seemingly try to. I mean, as a kid I smoked cigarettes, and couldn’t really get addicted. I was able to quit without incident when smoking became inconvenient (read, I wised up). I lived for almost ten years with an alcoholic partner and never could really get to where having alcohol in the house mattered to me. When I was in High School, my peers were really into any number of addictive things. It’s not so much that I “didn’t inhale”, as that I didn’t care one way or the other. Wait. Not completely true. I never liked that out-of-control feeling comes with the taking of drugs. This is actually a bad thing during episodes when my doctor is trying to get me into the MRI machine. Especially if I’ve NOT taken my valium as she prescribed and as a result CANNOT be made to be slid into the scary, close cave that is the MRI machine. At great expense, I might add, and in the middle of the night (they schedule MRIs 24/7). I’ll simply have to stop dislocating my limbs at this rate. But still. Point is, I don’t get addicted to things. I don’t have that ‘addictive personality’ I guess. Which brings us up to the present.

 

 I had/have a situation going on in my life which is clearly Not Good for Me. So much so (so embarrassingly so) that I won’t go into the details here. So, what’s the problem, then? Just drop the ‘situation’. I try. I am trying. I have tried. Let’s conjugate the verb to try. It seems that I can manage to avoid this particular thing-that-is-not-good-for-me for about twenty four hours at a time. Then I start seeking it out, even as I repeatedly keep kicking myself knowing that, well, this isn’t good for me. Most recently, I’ve dropped all internet links to this particular not-good-for me thing. All that accomplished is that I must now Google to re-find the path when my self-control slips. What the heck is wrong with me? This Is Not Good For Me. Like smoking or gambling or drugs. Well, perhaps not *that* bad for me, but still. My intellect clearly tells me that this is Something to Be Avoided. So why do I keep seeking it out? Might I be experiencing some form of addiction? I’m starting to think so. The ‘reward’ as the operant conditioning folk might wonder about, is that it feels so darned good. Well, when it doesn’t make me abjectly miserable.  But there's the thing. I feel. I feel very strongly as a result of this stimulus. Not all good, mind you, but loud. Sometimes I wonder if it isn’t simply that feeling anything, good or bad, beats the hell out of feeling nothing at all. It’s a drama addiction, I think. Before the reader jumps to any inappropriate conclusions, let me clarify that this particular addiction impacts only on me. This isn’t about anyone else and it’s not about pornography (one of my sister’s chief annoyances). There is no torrid affair with a married man going on or anything like that. This is much more stupid and, on a maturity scale, is approximately middle-school level (for my part). Which doesn't make it suck any less for me.

 

I’ve often thought that maturity is overrated, but just now I think that I need spring to come, and sooner rather than later.  

 

 

 
God, I feel like hell tonight
Tears of rage I cannot fight
I’d be the last to help you understand
Are you strong enough to be my man?

Nothing’s true and nothing’s right
So let me be alone tonight
Cause you can’t change the way I am
Are you strong enough to be my man?

Lie to me
I promise I’ll believe
Lie to me
But please don’t leave

I have a face I cannot show
I make the rules up as I go
It’s try and love me if you can
Are you strong enough to be my man?

When I’ve shown you that I just don’t care
When I’m throwing punches in the air
When I’m broken down and I can’t stand
Will you be strong enough to be my man?

Lie to me
I promise I’ll believe
Lie to me
But please don’t leave