Hello, Monday!
I'm going to send you on a bit of a mission this morning. My weekend included quite a diverse soundtrack. All smile worthy tracks that sent me spinning back in time. A story for each tune sort of weekend. You know how I love a good story!
Here's what it sounds like:
The Fugees - Killing Me Softly With His Song
P.M. Dawn - Set Adrift On Memory Bliss
Vanilla Ice - Ice Ice Baby
2Pac - California Love
Offspring - Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)
Seriously random treats and a solid cause for a laugh! We all have songs that send us soaring back through the reel of our memories. Songs that actually are so saturated in memory you can almost smell the moment again.
Some are good, some not so good memories, some songs you'll be flat out embarrassed to admit you love, but really it's about the memory and the reason you love it, and if you're lucky, some of those memories will be ridiculously fantastic!
What's the tune that sends you back? Go have a listen and, if you feel inclined, email me! You could inspire next week's tune!
Have fun on your music adventure! Dig up the mixed tapes from your youth and try to track down a tape player! Hahaha! Oh man.....
We'll chat soon!
Monday, 26 August 2013
Wednesday, 21 August 2013
Mid-Week Confessions and a BIG BIG lesson on PATIENCE
Last summer I marveled at how quickly I was captured, and as I fell hard, I was stunned by my ability to tend my garden. I was unequivocally in love with that small plot of dirt, and as I watched the plants I'd coaxed to life grow and nourish my family.....well, it was a remarkably satisfying feeling.
We planted that 12x12 piece of dirt again this year; tomatoes, cucumbers, snap peas, peppers, celery, onions and lettuce, it's amazing how much you can fit into such a small space. I also planted pots filled with herbs and a strawberry plant I'm still not sure how I managed to not kill over the winter.
Well this summer has shaped up to look nothing like last summer. My swimsuit hangs on a hook and has been admired from a distance, my floppy hat, the one I picked out specifically to cover not only my head but also my face, has not seen much light of day.
To say it delicately, I have had few moments to enjoy the summer and embrace my inner child.
A month ago I thought my garden was done for and, the most painful bit, I was certain I'd killed my strawberry plant. (I wrote about it then but never posted because I felt foolish about writing about something so trivial. Yet instead of tossing it into the recycle bin like I never had the thoughts at all, I thought I'd piece together a lesson for myself today.)
So back to a month ago.
Do you remember July? Well it was hot here, really hot, for here anyway. Here's my confession, as sad as it is: I forgot to water my garden; completely forgot it was even there.
I stepped into that dry patch of dirt one day and saw a mess. My peas grew together because I forgot to string them up before they tangled into a gnarly, twisted-clump of messy-green disaster. I will admit the peas tasted the same, and yes, they did taste good, but there was absolutely no uniformity and had there been, I'm sure they would have produced a much greater harvest.
Shall I continue or would it have been better had I called this entry, Here's to the Ridiculous....
Thankfully I happened to be in the backyard at the right moment to adorn the tomato plants with lovely metal-work cages, to not only help them grow tall, but to bare their weight.
For a few days all those weeks ago I truly believed I had failed my garden, hence the composing of the original piece you're seeing bits of. I had neglected it to the extent that a few of the weeds I pulled were taller than my knees.... shameful, I know, not to mention the seeds that simply didn't sprout, (there will be no peppers of any sort this year.)
So here's my lesson: but in truth there are many; I guess it just depends on the lesson you need today.
I started something and, though I didn't feed it or give it the attention that my own expectations begged, I still did the job. My garden has still produced and, if my over-grown and heavy green tomatoes, which in fact, are growing beyond what the cages can hold are any indication, I'm not as unsuccessful as I thought I would be only weeks ago.
I just picked a giant bowl filled with cucumbers, tomatoes, carrots, lettuce and an onion, though the onion was definitely premature. Last week I even threw some of that homegrown produce into a pot of soup!
Do you see the lesson in there or am I seriously reaching here?
Okay, you asked for it! I'll explain.
1~ you don't have to be the best at everything to see results!
2~ rushing to conclusions and claiming defeat is inbred in us. How often do we abandon
something we love simply because we hit a bump in the road, something appeared to
be blocking our way or it doesn't happen in the time we expect it to? Serious food for
thought right there!
3~ when growing something worthwhile you will have good days and bad, stormy weather,
perfect-balmy days, magnificent sunsets and cool rain that can revive even the most
dehydrated creature.
4~ everything that is alive takes work. I guess the options you have are to tend and put in
some effort or give up and walk away; washing your hands of the obligation. There is a
third, though I am hesitant to mention it because to me it is maybe the worst, and that is
to let it grow dormant; it's a death all its own that is hard to recover from.
Have I got carried away again?
I'll try to reel in the serious and get on with it, shall I.
Take it or leave it, folks, that's my confession, my truth, my lesson, if you will! I think I've offered more than enough for today!
That's all!
Happy Wednesday
Last summer I marveled at how quickly I was captured, and as I fell hard, I was stunned by my ability to tend my garden. I was unequivocally in love with that small plot of dirt, and as I watched the plants I'd coaxed to life grow and nourish my family.....well, it was a remarkably satisfying feeling.
We planted that 12x12 piece of dirt again this year; tomatoes, cucumbers, snap peas, peppers, celery, onions and lettuce, it's amazing how much you can fit into such a small space. I also planted pots filled with herbs and a strawberry plant I'm still not sure how I managed to not kill over the winter.
Well this summer has shaped up to look nothing like last summer. My swimsuit hangs on a hook and has been admired from a distance, my floppy hat, the one I picked out specifically to cover not only my head but also my face, has not seen much light of day.
To say it delicately, I have had few moments to enjoy the summer and embrace my inner child.
A month ago I thought my garden was done for and, the most painful bit, I was certain I'd killed my strawberry plant. (I wrote about it then but never posted because I felt foolish about writing about something so trivial. Yet instead of tossing it into the recycle bin like I never had the thoughts at all, I thought I'd piece together a lesson for myself today.)
So back to a month ago.
Do you remember July? Well it was hot here, really hot, for here anyway. Here's my confession, as sad as it is: I forgot to water my garden; completely forgot it was even there.
I stepped into that dry patch of dirt one day and saw a mess. My peas grew together because I forgot to string them up before they tangled into a gnarly, twisted-clump of messy-green disaster. I will admit the peas tasted the same, and yes, they did taste good, but there was absolutely no uniformity and had there been, I'm sure they would have produced a much greater harvest.
Shall I continue or would it have been better had I called this entry, Here's to the Ridiculous....
Thankfully I happened to be in the backyard at the right moment to adorn the tomato plants with lovely metal-work cages, to not only help them grow tall, but to bare their weight.
For a few days all those weeks ago I truly believed I had failed my garden, hence the composing of the original piece you're seeing bits of. I had neglected it to the extent that a few of the weeds I pulled were taller than my knees.... shameful, I know, not to mention the seeds that simply didn't sprout, (there will be no peppers of any sort this year.)
So here's my lesson: but in truth there are many; I guess it just depends on the lesson you need today.
I started something and, though I didn't feed it or give it the attention that my own expectations begged, I still did the job. My garden has still produced and, if my over-grown and heavy green tomatoes, which in fact, are growing beyond what the cages can hold are any indication, I'm not as unsuccessful as I thought I would be only weeks ago.
I just picked a giant bowl filled with cucumbers, tomatoes, carrots, lettuce and an onion, though the onion was definitely premature. Last week I even threw some of that homegrown produce into a pot of soup!
Do you see the lesson in there or am I seriously reaching here?
Okay, you asked for it! I'll explain.
1~ you don't have to be the best at everything to see results!
2~ rushing to conclusions and claiming defeat is inbred in us. How often do we abandon
something we love simply because we hit a bump in the road, something appeared to
be blocking our way or it doesn't happen in the time we expect it to? Serious food for
thought right there!
3~ when growing something worthwhile you will have good days and bad, stormy weather,
perfect-balmy days, magnificent sunsets and cool rain that can revive even the most
dehydrated creature.
4~ everything that is alive takes work. I guess the options you have are to tend and put in
some effort or give up and walk away; washing your hands of the obligation. There is a
third, though I am hesitant to mention it because to me it is maybe the worst, and that is
to let it grow dormant; it's a death all its own that is hard to recover from.
Have I got carried away again?
I'll try to reel in the serious and get on with it, shall I.
Take it or leave it, folks, that's my confession, my truth, my lesson, if you will! I think I've offered more than enough for today!
That's all!
Happy Wednesday
Monday, 19 August 2013
Half Moon Run - Call Me In The Afternoon in session for BBC Radio 1
Here's a listening delight for a Monday morning.
These fellows from Montreal are the real deal, kids, and I can't get enough of them. I chose this track because its up-tempo-drum-tapping was necessary in my world after a crazy weekend, but I think my favorite track is Unofferable.
So, enough chitter chatter from me, have a listen, then scoot on over to your music page and buy this album!
Have a beautiful day, folks!
These fellows from Montreal are the real deal, kids, and I can't get enough of them. I chose this track because its up-tempo-drum-tapping was necessary in my world after a crazy weekend, but I think my favorite track is Unofferable.
So, enough chitter chatter from me, have a listen, then scoot on over to your music page and buy this album!
Have a beautiful day, folks!
Friday, 16 August 2013
Pick-Me-Up or Perk-Me-Up?
I'm an habitual person. I thrive best when I have a proper, solid routine. I'm not opposed to swerving off the path every now and then, but as day to day life goes, I like the cookie cutter picture. It makes sense to me.
The moment school lets out my cookie cutter routine tanks. I mean it seriously gets thrown out the window and there is nothing routine about it. Not long after I begin to feel myself flag, like seriously drag; my tank is pressing utterly close to empty and though the light hasn't begun to flash in the danger zone of being stranded, I feel myself begin to sputter, gasping to get as much breath into my lungs before I go under.
It doesn't help that I'm an introvert. Yep, there it is folks, my confession for the day. Now that you have that piece of information maybe more of what I say has begun to resonate with you.
As my children grow older, and especially in the summer, being an introvert is not a quality that is easily appeased. Between my princes staying up later and later, taking on a new job, juggling a social calendar that has its own demands, all the while focusing on entertaining those boys every day; Yes, my tank is empty. And the plain and boring truth is that I'm simply tired.
It doesn't help that I'm an introvert. Yep, there it is folks, my confession for the day. Now that you have that piece of information maybe more of what I say has begun to resonate with you.
As my children grow older, and especially in the summer, being an introvert is not a quality that is easily appeased. Between my princes staying up later and later, taking on a new job, juggling a social calendar that has its own demands, all the while focusing on entertaining those boys every day; Yes, my tank is empty. And the plain and boring truth is that I'm simply tired.
Remember last fall when I linked many many entries to perspective? Well, I need a refresher. (If not you can go back and check them out. I was trying to narrow down my favorites but they all had little lessons that were a good reminder to me, so, actually, if you want, read 'em all! September and October were beauts, but the Ben Howard, Dancing in the Dark I think is one of my favs)
Here's what I know; I haven't made a point of taking care of me. It's always the first thing to slip for me, and as much as I don't want to admit it, that's just who I am; it's the giver inside of me that has a hard time surrendering the giving. Don't misunderstand; I'm not assuming the role of victim, martyr, enslaved mama-bear or woe-is-me, feel-sorry-for-the-sad-state-I'm-in. That is also not who I am, nor is that my intention.
I do want to shine a bright sparkly light, and give a massive thanks to my sweetheart for knowing me better than I am prepared to know myself and for reminding me that it's more than okay to stop, in reality it's vital. Perhaps it would be more precisely described to say he forced me to stop; he didn't shout, but his voice was sure raised in that stern parental tone we all shudder at and scramble to obey.
It was hard, the stopping. It took work too, which definitely goes against the definition of relaxing and shows how busy and wound I am really am, especially since sitting reminds me of all I haven't accomplished; like replying to emails, setting up an overdue skype date, and walking across the street to share a glass of wine with my gorgeous neighbor.
So yeah, I could really use a pick-me-up and a perk-me-up.
On the bright side, we have begun to gear up for the return of schedule and another busy school year! Bigger snowsuits have been purchased, lunch boxes are waiting, and our backpacks have finally been cleaned out from their last use in June.
Call me an eager mom! I am more than willing to accept that title and my children are certainly ready to head back to school to see their friends and settle into a routine.
So until that school bus chugs to a halt at the base of my driveway I will rely on caffeine and a non-stop non-schedule to keep me going, but you can bet when I see my princes loaded safe and happy on that school bus a few weeks from now, I will likely lock my doors and collapse for a day or two in the effort to recharge my dead battery!
Happy hot-summer weekend, everyone!
Here's what I know; I haven't made a point of taking care of me. It's always the first thing to slip for me, and as much as I don't want to admit it, that's just who I am; it's the giver inside of me that has a hard time surrendering the giving. Don't misunderstand; I'm not assuming the role of victim, martyr, enslaved mama-bear or woe-is-me, feel-sorry-for-the-sad-state-I'm-in. That is also not who I am, nor is that my intention.
I do want to shine a bright sparkly light, and give a massive thanks to my sweetheart for knowing me better than I am prepared to know myself and for reminding me that it's more than okay to stop, in reality it's vital. Perhaps it would be more precisely described to say he forced me to stop; he didn't shout, but his voice was sure raised in that stern parental tone we all shudder at and scramble to obey.
It was hard, the stopping. It took work too, which definitely goes against the definition of relaxing and shows how busy and wound I am really am, especially since sitting reminds me of all I haven't accomplished; like replying to emails, setting up an overdue skype date, and walking across the street to share a glass of wine with my gorgeous neighbor.
So yeah, I could really use a pick-me-up and a perk-me-up.
On the bright side, we have begun to gear up for the return of schedule and another busy school year! Bigger snowsuits have been purchased, lunch boxes are waiting, and our backpacks have finally been cleaned out from their last use in June.
Call me an eager mom! I am more than willing to accept that title and my children are certainly ready to head back to school to see their friends and settle into a routine.
So until that school bus chugs to a halt at the base of my driveway I will rely on caffeine and a non-stop non-schedule to keep me going, but you can bet when I see my princes loaded safe and happy on that school bus a few weeks from now, I will likely lock my doors and collapse for a day or two in the effort to recharge my dead battery!
Happy hot-summer weekend, everyone!
Monday, 12 August 2013
Ella Henderson - Waiting (Demo)
Hello, beauties!
How are you all doing?
Good weekend?
Exciting week ahead?
Is summer everything you hoped it would be so far?
If not, maybe this dreamy feast for your ears can turn things around for you!
It's been a while since I've heard a sound that affects me the way this smooth as sweet syrup voice does. I guess it's easiest to say that this short two minute tease embodies so many of my favorite things about music. An instant reaction climbs my spine and crawls up my neck, setting my skin alive with goose flesh, a warmth seeps through to my finger tips, my breath stops, my spirit sighs, and I wait silently; not a flutter in my lungs.
Let's address the words now shall we! Described fear defined and mastered by courage, mingled with anticipation, highlighted by all that is to come if you hold on tight to the hope that dreams come true.
What's not to love? I'll be waiting patiently for the release of this beautiful young lady's first album, due to arrive sometime before Christmas! Sounds like the perfect gift to me!
Have a fantastic beginning to another beautiful August week!
How are you all doing?
Good weekend?
Exciting week ahead?
Is summer everything you hoped it would be so far?
If not, maybe this dreamy feast for your ears can turn things around for you!
It's been a while since I've heard a sound that affects me the way this smooth as sweet syrup voice does. I guess it's easiest to say that this short two minute tease embodies so many of my favorite things about music. An instant reaction climbs my spine and crawls up my neck, setting my skin alive with goose flesh, a warmth seeps through to my finger tips, my breath stops, my spirit sighs, and I wait silently; not a flutter in my lungs.
Let's address the words now shall we! Described fear defined and mastered by courage, mingled with anticipation, highlighted by all that is to come if you hold on tight to the hope that dreams come true.
What's not to love? I'll be waiting patiently for the release of this beautiful young lady's first album, due to arrive sometime before Christmas! Sounds like the perfect gift to me!
Have a fantastic beginning to another beautiful August week!
Friday, 9 August 2013
Friday Favorites!
My young Prince returned from camp this evening. A whole week with one son out of the house, being entertained by a heard of young people who are frankly far more prepared and equipped to captivate and entertain his young mind than little o'l me!
Did you go to camp when you were a kid? Did you anticipate that week during the heat of summer when you could leave your parents and siblings behind, be given just a little taste of independence to live it up with your buddies in the coolest place ever?
OH MAN!!
The stories.
The epic tales.
The giggles.
The memories.
The lasting friendships.
The days without being forced to brush your teeth, do your laundry, look out for your kid brother, or bathe.
My goodness, me! Those were the days!
I sent him away last Sunday and this evening he returned. I have to confess this week has been easy; or easier, anyway. I also confess that I didn't think I missed him; his presence was definitely noticed and I was constantly aware he wasn't always underfoot, but miss him? I didn't feel it or think so.
But oh how I think I was wrong. I couldn't take my eyes off him when he returned. I was the first one opening the door to the truck and crossing the parking lot to take him in his arms (careful of course not to embarrass him! Is this what life will be like when he leaves for college?)
How is this the boy who (only yesterday) came from my belly? He's nearly as tall as me and, after only a short week away, his voice sounds different, he's more confident, he's grown in independence and, though he is legitimately pleased to see me, he is now that cool, aloof pre-teen boy who doesn't really "need" his mama.
Oh my, oh my.
Well, he's home, happy, healthy, and safe, praise The Lord! I'll be hearing tidbits for weeks to come and if the week was as fantastic as I am led to believe, next year, he will be the first to register.
Life is GREAT!! My boys are all back, under my warm and cozy roof, I have loads and loads and loads of laundry to do, an ear to listen, and my heart is full!
****Thank you to all those camp leaders who give their time, their love, their patience, and their precious summer holidays to grow wisdom, integrity and character in the lives of young girls and boys.
You are making a difference.
You are teaching our children how to be functional humans.
You are doing the job of superheroes.
You are pouring into their lives something that I will never be able to give them.
Do not be discouraged; your work is making a massive difference in so many lives!
As for me? Well, it's my birthday in two hours, YIKES! I'm going to bed! Ha! I'll dream of some of my favorite things....cake, coffee, purple flowers, giggles, sweaty runs, drinks with girlfriends, my ultra-fantastic characters, the pretty room, palm trees, sunny beaches, calm waters at the lake, dance parties, clean sheets, hot coffee, a good book, a cup of tea, a visit with an old friend, wide-open-spaces, rustling breeze-dancing leaves, the smell of rain, the joy of living, a crackling-smoldering-rich-smelling bonfire, a phone conversation with a sassy, foul-mouthed beauty who always makes me laugh, the pleasure of a reciprocated smile.
Life is good!
These are some of my favorite things.
Happy Weekend one and all, cheers!
My young Prince returned from camp this evening. A whole week with one son out of the house, being entertained by a heard of young people who are frankly far more prepared and equipped to captivate and entertain his young mind than little o'l me!
Did you go to camp when you were a kid? Did you anticipate that week during the heat of summer when you could leave your parents and siblings behind, be given just a little taste of independence to live it up with your buddies in the coolest place ever?
OH MAN!!
The stories.
The epic tales.
The giggles.
The memories.
The lasting friendships.
The days without being forced to brush your teeth, do your laundry, look out for your kid brother, or bathe.
My goodness, me! Those were the days!
I sent him away last Sunday and this evening he returned. I have to confess this week has been easy; or easier, anyway. I also confess that I didn't think I missed him; his presence was definitely noticed and I was constantly aware he wasn't always underfoot, but miss him? I didn't feel it or think so.
But oh how I think I was wrong. I couldn't take my eyes off him when he returned. I was the first one opening the door to the truck and crossing the parking lot to take him in his arms (careful of course not to embarrass him! Is this what life will be like when he leaves for college?)
How is this the boy who (only yesterday) came from my belly? He's nearly as tall as me and, after only a short week away, his voice sounds different, he's more confident, he's grown in independence and, though he is legitimately pleased to see me, he is now that cool, aloof pre-teen boy who doesn't really "need" his mama.
Oh my, oh my.
Well, he's home, happy, healthy, and safe, praise The Lord! I'll be hearing tidbits for weeks to come and if the week was as fantastic as I am led to believe, next year, he will be the first to register.
Life is GREAT!! My boys are all back, under my warm and cozy roof, I have loads and loads and loads of laundry to do, an ear to listen, and my heart is full!
****Thank you to all those camp leaders who give their time, their love, their patience, and their precious summer holidays to grow wisdom, integrity and character in the lives of young girls and boys.
You are making a difference.
You are teaching our children how to be functional humans.
You are doing the job of superheroes.
You are pouring into their lives something that I will never be able to give them.
Do not be discouraged; your work is making a massive difference in so many lives!
As for me? Well, it's my birthday in two hours, YIKES! I'm going to bed! Ha! I'll dream of some of my favorite things....cake, coffee, purple flowers, giggles, sweaty runs, drinks with girlfriends, my ultra-fantastic characters, the pretty room, palm trees, sunny beaches, calm waters at the lake, dance parties, clean sheets, hot coffee, a good book, a cup of tea, a visit with an old friend, wide-open-spaces, rustling breeze-dancing leaves, the smell of rain, the joy of living, a crackling-smoldering-rich-smelling bonfire, a phone conversation with a sassy, foul-mouthed beauty who always makes me laugh, the pleasure of a reciprocated smile.
Life is good!
These are some of my favorite things.
Happy Weekend one and all, cheers!
Wednesday, 7 August 2013
Mid-Week Confessions/Here's to the Ridiculous
I have never, and I mean ever, been a girly-girl. Shocking reveal....Not so much! I could count on one hand the number of times I've had manicures and pedicures, YEP, that's correct, both of them combined.
Anyway, I'm not sure what's come over me recently. Maybe it's because my life is consumed by boys, perhaps it's in the name of research, maybe it's been to spend some time with a new friend, maybe it's been a brief loss of sanity as I admire a different girlfriend's girliness, but I've focused a very small amount of attention on my nails lately.
This seriously is a confession; if you'd known me in my youth you would likely be shocked to know I have a makeup bag at all! (Growing up in the grunge fashion phase likely still has a lingering effect.) Set aside the phase I went through when I wouldn't leave the house without lipstick, or the short lived 5th grade blue eyeshadow that everyone was into, I have been a blank slate for most of my years. I'll more than happily wear makeup now but it took a while; I didn't even wear more than mascara the day I got married.
Say WHAT?
CRAZY!
It wasn't until I was a part of a wedding and was strapped apprehensively to a chair and painted up by two of the most skilled and beautiful aunt-in-laws that a girl could ask for that a whole new world was opened up to me. I was released from that seat and when I looked in the mirror I didn't recognize the girl who stared back. Can you imagine? 23 or so years of staring at a blank page and suddenly it was splashed in magnificent, precise strokes of colour-shading at the hand of a skilled artist?
I was a new woman! I took control after that liberating experience and haven't shut the door on the makeup room since, though, I still would hardly say I wear a lot of makeup.
Well it never did carry over all the way. My nails, my hands in general, are an atrocious site on a good day and now that I've messed with them they're worse. It freaked me out to no end to see them looking all fancy; I was less freaked out when my fingers were torn off my hand. (Last summer it took a handful of stitches that were absolutely necessary after a baseball decided to take an evil and maniacal leap straight at my face. Luckily I'm still quick, but not quick enough! And that right there puts a solid stamp on who I am than all the makeup in the world.)
It revealed several things to me:
Number 1: I talk with my hands...a lot, I'm like a conductor or a professional hand dancer. And the problem here is that my eyes crept to my shiny finger nails more often than they held focus on the eyes I was trying to communicate with; very distracting.
Number 2: my fingers no longer looked like mine. Instead they looked like my mother's. Now there is nothing bad about this fact, I love my mama, but it simply freaked me out. Number 3: I hated it, it wasn't me in any way. And I heard the argument You'll get used to it several times over the two weeks I lived in fancy-nail-world, but the truth of the matter is, I didn't and don't want to get used to it.
So I removed that mishap of a choice and as I wait for my nails to repair themselves I will dabble in the unnoticeable nude shades of polish.
So though I will admit to wanting to be surrounded by more and more girlie things as I grow comfortable in this ever changing world of womanhood, (and being surrounded by a world of boys likely doesn't dissuade the cause) I now know that particular world of girlie is not for me.
I told you it was ridiculous. It also tells you more about me than I'm used to sharing. So there you go....another Mid-Week Confession for you to laugh about!
Everyday I learn a little more about the woman I am, and that is one thing I will happily confess to you any time of the week!
I have never, and I mean ever, been a girly-girl. Shocking reveal....Not so much! I could count on one hand the number of times I've had manicures and pedicures, YEP, that's correct, both of them combined.
Anyway, I'm not sure what's come over me recently. Maybe it's because my life is consumed by boys, perhaps it's in the name of research, maybe it's been to spend some time with a new friend, maybe it's been a brief loss of sanity as I admire a different girlfriend's girliness, but I've focused a very small amount of attention on my nails lately.
This seriously is a confession; if you'd known me in my youth you would likely be shocked to know I have a makeup bag at all! (Growing up in the grunge fashion phase likely still has a lingering effect.) Set aside the phase I went through when I wouldn't leave the house without lipstick, or the short lived 5th grade blue eyeshadow that everyone was into, I have been a blank slate for most of my years. I'll more than happily wear makeup now but it took a while; I didn't even wear more than mascara the day I got married.
Say WHAT?
CRAZY!
It wasn't until I was a part of a wedding and was strapped apprehensively to a chair and painted up by two of the most skilled and beautiful aunt-in-laws that a girl could ask for that a whole new world was opened up to me. I was released from that seat and when I looked in the mirror I didn't recognize the girl who stared back. Can you imagine? 23 or so years of staring at a blank page and suddenly it was splashed in magnificent, precise strokes of colour-shading at the hand of a skilled artist?
I was a new woman! I took control after that liberating experience and haven't shut the door on the makeup room since, though, I still would hardly say I wear a lot of makeup.
Well it never did carry over all the way. My nails, my hands in general, are an atrocious site on a good day and now that I've messed with them they're worse. It freaked me out to no end to see them looking all fancy; I was less freaked out when my fingers were torn off my hand. (Last summer it took a handful of stitches that were absolutely necessary after a baseball decided to take an evil and maniacal leap straight at my face. Luckily I'm still quick, but not quick enough! And that right there puts a solid stamp on who I am than all the makeup in the world.)
It revealed several things to me:
Number 1: I talk with my hands...a lot, I'm like a conductor or a professional hand dancer. And the problem here is that my eyes crept to my shiny finger nails more often than they held focus on the eyes I was trying to communicate with; very distracting.
Number 2: my fingers no longer looked like mine. Instead they looked like my mother's. Now there is nothing bad about this fact, I love my mama, but it simply freaked me out. Number 3: I hated it, it wasn't me in any way. And I heard the argument You'll get used to it several times over the two weeks I lived in fancy-nail-world, but the truth of the matter is, I didn't and don't want to get used to it.
So I removed that mishap of a choice and as I wait for my nails to repair themselves I will dabble in the unnoticeable nude shades of polish.
So though I will admit to wanting to be surrounded by more and more girlie things as I grow comfortable in this ever changing world of womanhood, (and being surrounded by a world of boys likely doesn't dissuade the cause) I now know that particular world of girlie is not for me.
I told you it was ridiculous. It also tells you more about me than I'm used to sharing. So there you go....another Mid-Week Confession for you to laugh about!
Everyday I learn a little more about the woman I am, and that is one thing I will happily confess to you any time of the week!
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