Things are not exactly as well off as I hoped they would be at this time. I've just peeled another layer of skin from my lips leaving them, once again, bright red, swollen and disgusting.

*big sigh*

When will this madness end? It's been so long since my lips were normal looking that I'm beginning to think of this look as "acceptable," and that's just wrong. Bright red peeling lips is a disgust to look at and I refuse to start accepting this as my permanent reflection. It's a horror.

I deserve to be locked in a dark underground dungeon where nobody can see me and I can't see anybody. God, how I dream of such a place for me to hide.

But enough talk of hopeful delusion. I must continue to drudge into the public eye....

I took my lil' sister out to lunch today. We went to Ruby's for hamburgers and shakes. I've never been there before and I can't say I'm inclined to ever go there again. Not to say that it was bad...because it wasn't. It's just that there isn't entirely anything special about it. Burgers, fries and shakes...all of which I had, enjoyed and was charged way to much for. But considering the company I was with it was completely and utterly worth it. My sister is a dream. Yes, I'm completely biased. But that doesn't mean I'm not right. She is awesome. Eleven years of wonderfulness wrapped up in her little body. Okay, so she's not so little anymore...shocking as that may be to me. I just can't help picturing this cute little toddler when I think of her. Just like I picture an annoying fourteen year old when I picture my now twenty-six year old brother. I wonder why I'm stuck in this memory that is close to ten years old. Now that I think about it, I wonder if that is why when I look in the mirror I still see my horrific acne-ridden sixteen year old face.

Hm...

That really is something to ponder.

Anyway, we went to a late lunch to eat and chat. She told me all about her new school, her friends and things of that nature. I found out she's been playing the violin for two years. Who knew...

Who knew my dad had surgery two days ago for skin cancer. Well, not me. Geez, thanks for telling me dad. Thanks for keeping me up to date on things of somewhat important nature. It's unbelievable how my dad can go out of his way to make me feel like anything but his daughter. In fact, it was somewhat staggering at his nonchalance toward the entire situation. He completely shrugged it off, saying "whoops." The truth of the matter is he barely said two sentence to me. "How's the car? How's Michael?" How's the job?" blah blah blah..."Don't be such a stranger, but now we have to go do some shopping. See ya kid." The end.

Yeah, I left feeling a little hurt and little bewildered and a little lost. Usually when I see my dad (even if I hadn't talked to him for a long time prior) I get shown a little sign of interest. But not this time. This time it was just really awkward and weird. I don't know whether to shrug it off or cry. My dad truly has NO idea how much I love him, how I used to idolize him and how no matter how much I try to deny it or pretend it's not there, how much I seek his approval. Some things never change and no matter what I do...or what I don't do...he's never going to acknowledge me. Half the time I get the impression he wishes I didn't even exist. Maybe it would best if I stopped living in denial and just accepted that fact. But that's hard to do. It's not an easy thing to accept the idea that your own father wishes you didn't exist. Think about that....

Not cool. And I haven't been able to do it yet and who knows if I ever will be able to.

*sigh*

But Jeannelle is awesome. I love her to pieces and I am so glad I made the effort to hang out with her today. I promised to call her on Tuesday to hear all about her first day of Middle School.

And now I must go. The Jeffersons marathon on TV Land beckons. Plus, I feel fat and bloated. Even though my lips have been more then unpleasant this weekend, I've somehow made up for those lost four pounds. In fact, according to the scale I've gained 5 since Friday. So there. Skinniness be gone. Meh. Whatever. Depression has a way to account for over eating. At least for the weekend anyway.

Which reminds me. I promised my baby some Carls Jr when I picked him up from work. So now I've really got to go.