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Monday, March 06, 2006 

Travel plans

I leave San Francisco on the 6th of April, and have a (thankfully) non-stop flight which arrives at Roissy the morning of the 7th. I'll have a week in Paris alone until I take the train to Basse-Normandie to pick up my little nugglet (she'd be so angry if she knew I'd just typed that!) From there we will take a train to Amsterdam, spending two nights in Brussels (where we'll be for Easter) on the way. After Amsterdam we will return to Paris for two nights (she's loves Paris, too, so we couldn't come back to the States without her seeing the City) before flying back to our City by the Bay. My refresher French classes at the Alliance Française are going pretty well. I'm not as bad as I had originally thought. I really just need to get used to hearing the language again, I think.

Someone asked me why my blog's subtitle is "random musings of a social retard." Why am I a social retard? Well, there are lots of reasons, but I'll start here: I was reading Pumpkin Pie's entry about not being a trusting person, and it really made me think about how I am not a trusting person at all. Ever, really. I don't have a best friend. I did once, and she betrayed me. In a big way - and I was so naïve, I didn't even realize it when she was lying to my face, and stabbing me in the back (quite impressive really, if you think of the visual!) So as a result, for a very long time I just didn't socialize with women at all. The vast majority of my closest aquaintances were gay men. I became quite the fagnet®. It wasn't until relatively recently, the last seven years or so, that I've started hanging out with chicks again - often with mixed results. Girls are mean. I think I've only just begun making female friends in my 30s because I am no longer a threat.

When I was younger, I was cute. Guys never looked at me and said "Gawd, you're hot" It was always "You're so cute." I hated that. I was a cheerleader/drill team girl, but never the most popular girl in school. I was never in a clique, unless you count President of the French Club. I don't! I was pretty athletic, on the track team, but was the kind of kid who had friends of every type: the brains (I was one), the burnouts (my 9th grade boyfriend), the popular girls (a couple were in the same exchange program I was in, so we got to know each other in France), the jocks (my daughter's dad was one - no I didn't get pregnant in high school! It was a few years out of college), even a few dropouts (my 11th grade boyfriend.) My point is, I'm not cute anymore. I'm not sure exactly when this happened, but I look at myself in the mirror and am mystified at the face that looks back at me.

All my gayboy friends tell me I am beautiful. I try every day to be a kind, generous, and understanding human being. So what’s the problem, right? I wear a size 16, and in the rarefied circles I move in, that’s too big. So I hold back—way back—and opt out of the whole social (particularly dating) scene. I’ve been doing this for a long time. So long, that I’ve convinced myself I may be unlovable. I can't seriously consider meeting someone online because I wouldn't be able to take the look of disappointment when we met in person.

This is all probably more than anyone needed to know, but this is kind of a stream of consciousness thing going on here. Sigh. Here's me from a few months ago. I just today bothered to read about how to post photos to my blog. Finally.

My hair is different now. Braided, but I love my glasses. You can't tell in this photo, but they're purple, or more accurately, aubergine.

I want to comment, but I don't know what to say. You've put a lot of yourself in this post and I've been thinking over this comment box on what I want to say.

I'll put it simply: I can hardly wait to meet you.

See you soon.

aww buzzgirl, you should never worry about that happening! You are still sooo cute and you have to understand that, there is sooo much more than just a pretty face, you have a great personality I can see that! Be free, trust your fate and you'll be just fine!
I could go on and on, and give you examples, but trust me on this, you are beautiful on the inside and out!
kim:o)
how exciting that you are going to meet some fellow bloggers, i can't wait to hear about it!

i hope you have the most fabulous time in europe! by the way, i just heard that there is a large corsican contigent living in the san fran area. thought that was kind of interesting/strange. as one ex-size 14 girl, but very soon to be that again, i salute you sister for your honesty. it's very refreshing. and i love your glasses too. i have always wished i needed them, but can't seem to get the courage to wear "fake" ones.

buzzgirl - you are cute but don't take cute being in a bad way. At least nobody can call you ugly. I think you are way too hard on yourself but also know you live in one of the most judgemental and fake worlds alive (SF of course!). I wouldn't mind hanging out with gay men either there!

You just need to live your life, have fun. And I think you are since you will be visiting Paris and Amsterdam! You rock. :) And kim is right - inside and out...

buzzgirl - no need to worry - thoughts roll and that is what is so cool about blogging,. :)
(expatraveler - its not working..)

Hi buzzgirl, I'm Lisa. I saw your link on Expat Travelers blog. This is the first time I've read, but may I say truthfully, when I saw your picture I thought "What a doll!" I love the glasses! As for the rest, I identify very much with what you wrote there. Extremely much. Would you mind if I add you to my link list? I'm 37 and not even going into what size I wear. ;) Also a social retard. *sigh* All of my days. Nice to meet you.
P.S. If you want to see some "what was I thinking?!" pics, give my blog a peek. I am NECABOE. (not even cute and bordering on elderly) But I was feeling brave. I guess you were too. :)

Buzzgirl,
Your post touched me more than you will ever know. I can remember the sister of my oldest daugthers father telling me and everyone in the car that I was not a knockout kind of beautiful girl but a sweet and pretty in a natural way kind of girl. She said it was a compliment but my feelings were crushed. I think if I wore lots of makeup and dressed the part I could be more glamorous but that is not me. I am the sweet and natural girl inside and I guess out.
When we moved to France I wore a size 14 and I am only 4 foot 4 inches tall. When my husband first met me in real life I was a size 12 (we met online). I felt like you that no one could love me and that I was destined to a life as a spinster with Angel Girl. I stopped even looking at men and just thought they were trouble I didn't need since my ex burned me so bad. Now, I am thinner and happier. My husband loves me...the real me and he thinks I am the sexiest and most beautiful woman alive. He tells me all the time he doesn't know how he found me and that I am the girl of his dreams. I am not beautiful by most peoples standards but I am not ugly. I really don't know if that matters at all really.
I think you are very beautiful and I mean it. Your face is glowing and you have the look of a model. Really. Your face is shaped a little like a heart and I think that is why people say you look so cute. You are beautiful on the inside and out.
I hope you have a great trip to Paris. Bloggers seem to be meeting everywhere lately. I am reading about it all over the blogs. :) I love blogging.

Forget cute – vous êtes sur feu! (hope I spelled that right) See you in Paris!

Ms. Glaze

Hey-- I know what you mean about girls being mean. I don't have a best friend either.....exactly for that reason. (long sad sob story)

On the other hand. I must say that I think you are super cute! Size 16 girls unite! We can be cute too!

p.s. Please inform me when girl scout cookies go on sale again. Someone could make ALOT of money selling GS cookies to ex-pats. We have seizures just thinking about how yummy they are---and we can never seem to find them in Europe. I just had my mom ship me a boxes.....and they're gone already.

I could have written this post. except for the cheerleader/drill girl part.

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