Darn it, that thing was pink
I was looking at two friends blogs [mickeyg.blogspot.com and jennism.blogspot.com] and thought, wait a second, that's not what they looked like before. And I thought, hmmmm... time for a change all the way around, perhaps???
So, I went with this extremely pink template. I tried it. I tested it. And then it occurred to me. Pink is GIRRRLY. I am so not girly.
You see, it's important that I come to this realization. Lately, I've been trying to be girly. I told Jenn today that I was feeling oddly Audrey Hepburn-esque. I had the flippy skirt. I had the hair all done up. I even briefly considered wearing makeup. I have an appointment for a pedicure. And then I remembered -- my father had no sons. I spent my childhood Saturdays at car lots and Honda dealerships (motorcycles, of course). I have been to more than one truck and tractor pull. I went to an Indy race and was 2 feet away from Mario Andretti.
I think maybe my childhood self was right. Mom, you know the childhood me I'm talking about. The one who refused to wear the dresses her grandmother bought her. The one who always forgot about picture day and had to either button up a sweater real high or stand in the back of the class picture. That girl knew better than to bother trying to act girly.
I think this attempt to be girly and feminine has something to do with weight. I won't bore you all with the drama, but in the last year, much to Ben and Jerry's dismay, I lost somewhere around 20 pounds. Almost 3 sizes. So, now, when I go shopping, I'm trying to find little-er things. Things that feel dainty and pretty. And, well, girly. I'm buying skirts and dresses and things with ruffles. Okay, so maybe I'm lying a little on the ruffles, but you know what I mean.
So, now I'm wondering which me is the real me. To a great extent, I believe that how we dress is a reflection on us -- our opinion of ourselves, how we want the world to see us, etc. So, was the real me the one that covered up and revealed very little, or is the real me this odd girly creature who seems to be perpetually finding the tank tops and mini skirts.
Somehow, this is all a reflection on my psyche. Something about me trying to understand myself or something like that. Or maybe I just like skirts. Either way, I decided that the pink blog had to go. This just felt more like me.
So, I went with this extremely pink template. I tried it. I tested it. And then it occurred to me. Pink is GIRRRLY. I am so not girly.
You see, it's important that I come to this realization. Lately, I've been trying to be girly. I told Jenn today that I was feeling oddly Audrey Hepburn-esque. I had the flippy skirt. I had the hair all done up. I even briefly considered wearing makeup. I have an appointment for a pedicure. And then I remembered -- my father had no sons. I spent my childhood Saturdays at car lots and Honda dealerships (motorcycles, of course). I have been to more than one truck and tractor pull. I went to an Indy race and was 2 feet away from Mario Andretti.
I think maybe my childhood self was right. Mom, you know the childhood me I'm talking about. The one who refused to wear the dresses her grandmother bought her. The one who always forgot about picture day and had to either button up a sweater real high or stand in the back of the class picture. That girl knew better than to bother trying to act girly.
I think this attempt to be girly and feminine has something to do with weight. I won't bore you all with the drama, but in the last year, much to Ben and Jerry's dismay, I lost somewhere around 20 pounds. Almost 3 sizes. So, now, when I go shopping, I'm trying to find little-er things. Things that feel dainty and pretty. And, well, girly. I'm buying skirts and dresses and things with ruffles. Okay, so maybe I'm lying a little on the ruffles, but you know what I mean.
So, now I'm wondering which me is the real me. To a great extent, I believe that how we dress is a reflection on us -- our opinion of ourselves, how we want the world to see us, etc. So, was the real me the one that covered up and revealed very little, or is the real me this odd girly creature who seems to be perpetually finding the tank tops and mini skirts.
Somehow, this is all a reflection on my psyche. Something about me trying to understand myself or something like that. Or maybe I just like skirts. Either way, I decided that the pink blog had to go. This just felt more like me.
