Christmas approacheth. In fact, it approacheth so fast that it's basically here, if you work by the "horological" time system, in which a new day begins at 12am. I, however, work on the "chronological" time system, in which a new day begins at the moment you wake up, and
the old day lasts until you go to sleep.
Today, the day before Christmas, I am moved to think about other people. A number of years ago I told a friend of mine that I never believed people liked me very much, because I couldn't believe that they would like someone who sat around in her gnome pyjamas all day (as, in fact, I have done today), who was often irritating, and who could be boring. His response was, "Aren't you underestimating other people?" This had never occurred to me before. And for some reason - perhaps because of the hair straightening - this popped into my head again today.
I find it mystifying that anyone could find me attractive. This is, first of all, because I'm just...me. But it also because I have such a clear notion of what men find attractive: large breasts, nice bottoms, youth, good hair, a beautiful face. And I have none of these things. Also, I can be irritating. Reader, I find to my own shame that I have been brainwashed by the media without being aware, and, worse, while believing that I had not. But I find it nearly impossible to believe that someone might look past my small breasts and my no-longer-anywhere-near-my-twenties-ness, and my terrible nose, and my hair of the damned, and love me anyway. And I finally it even more impossible to believe that there might be men who find small breasts attractive, or like what time does to a woman, or who might think that my non-mainstream hair is not of the damned, or who might value personality above the physical. Oh, I can say it when it comes to people finding my friends attractive, and I can even believe it for them, but I cannot believe it for myself. I found Mr. Fallen, with his at least an extra stone of girth, wonderful; I found Irishboyfriend, with his wire tooth thing and his missing fingertop, sexy -- in fact, those were the very things I found sexy about him. But, oh, my goodness, I think, why would someone find me attractive? And perhaps that underestimates me, but it also underestimates other people, and makes them very shallow. And for that I am ashamed.