Do you play?

"mmmumble...mrrrph....gurratag..."

"What?"

"mmmumble...mrrrph....gurratag..."

Natalie sighed and stopped digging through the boxes in the back of the closet. "I'm sorry, what did you say? I couldn't hear you."

"I didn't know you played guitar." 

"Oh, I don't."

James looked at the guitar sitting in the corner of the living room and back at Natalie, "Does your roommate play?"

"I don't have a roommate. This place is way too small for a roommate don't you think? Give me another quick second to find that book and then we can meet everyone. Thanks again for the ride."

James shook his head. Conversations with Natalie often went this way. Like he was talking about one thing and she was hearing something else entirely. The whole reason why they were here in her apartment was due to one of these conversations.

They had been at the office getting ready to leave for a team building event and Natalie mentioned to Janice that the event they were going to reminded her of this book she had read once. James wasn't paying as much attention as he should have been because part way through the conversation Nat turned to him and said, "Can you give me a ride?" James thought he was agreeing to give Nat a ride to the event and agreed. Turned out he was agreeing to giving her a ride to her apartment to find the book, then they would go on to the event. No big deal, her apartment was just completely out of the way from where they were headed. 

"You know now that I think about it, I think maybe it wasn't a book but a movie. Yeah, I think it was a movie. Do you know the one?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The movie that had the scene in it that I was telling Janice about? Back at the office? You know, it had that woman in it who always plays those kind of parts. With the smile that does that thing?"

James looked at Nat. She was staring at him like he should just know exactly what she was talking about so he just tossed out the first name he could think of. "Sandra Bullock?"

"Yes! Her! Now what was the movie?"

James thought for a second, okay, what did he know so far. Nat thought it was a book she had read but it was a movie. A movie starring Sandra Bullock and somehow it was tied in to the glass blowing they were going to do as a team building event. Did Sandra Bullock ever star in a movie about glass? Or teams? "The Blind Side?"

"Yes! That one! See? Doesn't this just remind you of that so much?"

James just started at Nat. He wasn't sure what to do now. Because, in fact, no The Blind Side had nothing in common with going to a little glass studio and making Christmas ornaments to foster, well who the hell knew what these things were supposed to foster. But since he had guessed it all correctly how was he going to get out of this now? "So tell me why you have a guitar if you don't play?" Distraction.

"It came with the apartment."

"I didn't know this building did furnished places."

"No, it was just the guitar. I kept it thinking that the people that lived here before would come back for it, I mean, who leaves a guitar behind? But they never did. Then I decided it was a sign and I would just take lessons and learn to play it myself."

"When do you start?"

"Well, I haven't set them up yet. As soon as I'm settled."

"That makes sense. So how long have you lived here?"

"Five years."

"Five years? And you aren't settled yet?"

"Well, I'm settled in the apartment, but you know work is always changing and then I was dating someone and now I'm not and there is the whole pet issue."

"Pet issue?"

"Yeah, I was thinking about getting a dog, or maybe a cat but then if I do that I will have to make sure I have time to take care of them and what if they don't like to hear me practice? You know they have like super sensitive hearing and so if I mess up that would be really bad for them, right?"

James shook his head, "I'm sure it would be fine. I have a dog and he pretty much sleeps through my playing."

"Oh! I didn't know you played! How long have you played?"

"Since I was in middle school. I thought it would help me get a girlfriend. I would learn how to play guitar, start a band, live the rock and roll lifestyle...typical teenage boy dreams."

"That would be great! You should still do that! You know it's never too late to start! Oh gosh! We could totally start a band!"

"Yeah, we should do that." James laughed, sure that Natalie was joking. 

She wasn't.

Is it a code?

Blink, blink, blink....

Was it trying to send a message?

Blink, blink, blink...

Something out there...just beyond reach?

Blink, blink, blink....

Vast field of white with just that one slice of color.

Blink, blink, blink....

Wait, is black a color? Or is black all of the colors? Is it white that is no color? She could never remember.

Blink, blink, blink...

Maybe she should Google Morse Code.

Blink, blink, blink...

Was there a Google translate for that?

Blink, blink, blink...

Oh well...maybe tomorrow.

Blink, blink, blink....

Lists! Plans! Documents! Action Items!

Okay, so this weekend as I was lounging on the couch contemplating the summer I started thinking about when C was little and I would put together summer schedules for him. Everything from what camps he would attend when to what extra education things would be taken care of. Oh yes, education. I am one of those parents. There were workbooks, projects, educational camps, on and on. I think summer vacation is the worst idea ever as far as education goes. The last month of school is a waste as kids are only focused on getting out and the first month is a waste as you have to re-teach them everything they forgot over the summer. But anyway...this isn't about that...

You all know I have my self evaluation times that always hit, right around my birthday is a big one. And as my birthday is at the end of the summer I thought this is perfect. It's time to put a big push on for some things that need taken care of. So I brain dumped. Just started listing out things I want to do this summer. The list is varied. There are some specific to dos, like finish booking the hotel for the Chicago trip and planning what we are going to do there. Some more general, like do something new every weekend. It could be big or small. Just something we haven't ever done before. Trying to decide right now if this weekend is covered by Rock of Ages because we've never seen it or if because we have gone to musicals before it's not...I think it's covered because I would count hiking in a new spot as something new. But then again maybe it's not covered because only Brent and I are going and not C. But then again this is my thing so I can't really force Brent and C to do new things. And then again I am already over-thinking this part...

And then there are the things that creep on the list all the time. A few are there because I'm already doing them and want to continue and a couple are on there because it's either take care of them now or get rid of them forever. If it's made my to dos for years and has never been to done then it's obviously just a nice idea of an idea not really something that I really want to do.

The good news is I have three months to work through the list because some of them are habit building or habit breaking things so they will take time. The better news is there are a few things that can be done and crossed off to keep me motivated while I am working on some of the longer term projects. So far I've started working on modifying an aerobic workout to try and find something that will make me break a sweat and not hurt my foot, I've sent an email for an estimate on some household work that needs done, I've started changing some things to help break a time consuming habit and I've made sure to sit down to write. Not a bad start. Hopefully by the time I send C back off to school at the end of the summer my to do list will be to done and so will yours!

I mean, you have one right? Well what are you waiting for! Get started!

Too long for a status, not quite a blog....

Everyone confuses Memorial Day and Labor Day at least once in their lives. Probably more than that. Not what the holidays are for, but when they happen. Usually it's "Which one is the end of summer? That one." Or the opposite, "The one in the beginning of summer, I mean that one." Our bookend holidays. Start of summer, end of summer.

Growing up Memorial Day was a parade and a picnic. Labor Day, was just the picnic. Not a lot of union love in my house so that was about it.

Now as I see people post on their Facebook status updates I see that they are blending Veterans Day and Memorial Day. The actual meanings behind the days. Veterans Day is to honor those that served. The chance to say thank you. Memorial Day is to remember those that served that paid the ultimate price. Those that didn't come home. Decoration Day is what it was originally called when the country first started the day of remembrance after the Civil War. There were so many who lost sons in that war the whole nation needed to grieve. To remember. To honor. Decoration Day, plant the flag, bring the flowers, sit by the grave-site. Or a grave-site of an unknown soldier since so many died and were never identified in that war. But as I told a friend this morning, that's fine, extra gratitude is always good.

So here is my personal mixing of the days as an adult. Brent's parents were married Memorial Day weekend. They chose the holiday weekend so they would always have a long weekend to get away or celebrate. At the time Brent was in the Navy and had to request leave to attend the wedding. Which led to much hilarity. See, on a leave chit you have to put the reason for the request. "Attending my parent's wedding" might have been the most original reason ever. Though technically it was the second time they were married, and they were married when Brent was born so he might have been a son of a bitch, but he was no bastard. (My MIL had a bumper sticker "The Bitch is Back" she wouldn't be insulted by Brent being a son of a bitch, just in case you were wondering)

So Memorial Day was their wedding anniversary. Pictures of us all at the wedding, and I do mean us all, I was pregnant with C at the time and as I started to show from the moment of conception by 5 months I looked like I was about 8 months along! Good food, lovely ceremony. The one drink of champagne I had lets me know the booze was good. Brent was in the military but we hoped never to celebrate Memorial Day for its intended purpose, wedding anniversary celebrations were fine.

Brent's father died over Labor Day weekend. On leave from his own active duty service. After surviving Vietnam and Afghanistan, while we were starting to worry about a second tour in Afghanistan or a tour in Iraq he had a massive heart attack and died over the holiday. So the full military funeral was that week. Labor Day weekend.

So when I think about Memorial Day I think about weddings. When I think about Labor Day I think about taps. And boots with dog tags. And the Patriot Guard. And hundreds of men and women in uniform shaking our hands and pressing command coins into our palms. They blend.

But as I told my friend this morning, gratitude is good no matter the day on the calendar. For the families of the service members who gave all, I say thank you. For the men and women who chose to serve, I say thank you. For those that continue to serve, I say thank you. For my father who served, for my father-in-law who served, I say I miss you.

Second Place...

And here is the other Three Minute Fiction piece that didn't make the cut.

Now this one I was pretty happy with and would have been just fine submitting it as my entry this time around. It was the one that C actually preferred (after helping me change the ending to a more subtle one instead of a club to the head). And I was leaning towards it as well. Partly because even though it was the third idea I came up with when I heard the prompt it was the first one that actually made it to words on the screen. And partly because I just liked the story. But that's why I had three people read them all to decide before I submitted. It's hard to be unbiased about your own work. You can fall in love with an idea or concept and not ever really realize it's not your best stuff. Though I'm not saying this isn't my best stuff. I'm still very fond of it.

It also started out fairly long and had to be edited down to fit the requirements and I think that some day I might stretch it back out to a longer piece. Maybe. Maybe not.

But for now here is the second place finisher in the contest to see what piece enters the contest:

I Wish

“Tell me the rules again, DJ.”

“James, we've been over them at least 100 times. Why do you want to hear them again?”

“I want to make sure I have them right in my head. I would hate to make a mistake. An opportunity like this only comes around once, right?”

“Fine. As finder of the genie’s lamp you are entitled to one wish. You may not wish for more wishes. You may not wish for something that would take away the free will of another, as in you may not wish for love or friendship that would not be freely given. You must use the formal request language to make your wish so there is no misunderstanding. I, James Peterson, wish for, insert wish here, understanding that this is my one and only wish and I will abide by all repercussion of such wish. With the conclusion of this wish I, James Peterson, do release the Djinn from his obligation to me, the finder of the lamp, and he may now return to where I found him.

Are you ready to make your wish now?“

“No, not just yet, I’m still thinking. There’s no time limit right? I mean, it’s not like if I don’t make my wish within 6 months it expires?”

“No, James, no time limit. A wish doesn't have a shelf life. I’m not sure it’s ever even been an issue before; most people make their wish in a day, two at most. You've been thinking for months now.”

“It’s just important to me to get this right.”

“Then is that all for now? Should I go back in the lamp?”

“Well, I was thinking, did you want to go see a movie and maybe grab some dinner? Remember the action flick we saw the preview for a few months ago? It’s opening this weekend.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. But no Indian food this time, if I want good Indian food I’ll go home and grab some between wishing gigs.“

“Oh, right, that makes sense. Also, I picked you up some clothes. That way you can wear something different than the ‘formal genie’ look you normally rock. Not that there is anything wrong with it, I just thought this might be more comfortable.

And umm, I was thinking, while I’m deciding on my wish you could just hang out, you know, outside of the lamp. Since my roommate moved out there is a spare room you could have. You know, if you want to.”

“Live outside the lamp? I've never really thought about not living in the lamp. It’s small but it’s home, you know?“

“Sure, sure, I just thought it might be a nice change of pace for you. That way you wouldn't have to wait for me to release you from the lamp all the time. You could just hang out whenever you wanted to. But, you know, no worries. I mean who knows I could make my wish soon and you would be gone anyway.

Okay, well, if we are going to make the 7:00 show we should head out soon. Did you want to go get ready?”

As DJ went to change James placed the lamp back on the shelf in the living room. He had been thinking he should really find a more secure place to store it. If DJ decided to go ahead and start living in the spare room maybe he would get a safe deposit box at the bank.

 “Okay, I’m ready. How about we go for pizza after the movie?”

“Sounds great to me.”

Three Minute Fiction

So I entered the NPR Three Minute Fiction contest again this cycle. I actually wrote three different stories for the prompt so I figured I would go ahead and post the two that didn't make the cut for you. The prompt this time was write a piece of original fiction in which a character finds something he or she has no intention of returning. And like always the piece has to be 600 words or less.

That's why this piece didn't make the cut. It's actually the first idea I had when I heard the prompt but when I wrote the story the first time it came in at over 800 words. And that was with a lot of self editing as I wrote. By the time I got it down to the 600 words I felt like it lost too much. When I decided to post it here I had to decide if I was going to add back in the parts that I cut or just give you the 600.  I went with giving you the 600. I feel like this shows you what happens to a story when you have to cut and cut and cut. You can see where I was going, but how I ran out of road to get there. Writing a story with limited words can be a real challenge. Even for someone like me who prefers to write short pieces. You have to be very precise in your word choice, in what you leave in and what you take out. And sometimes you just can't make it work.

And now that I've given you every reason not to want to read it I bring you:

Cleaning Out the Attic

“Mom, I think this box must be yours.” Judy pushed the dusty box out of her pile of things to sort and back towards her mother.

Joyce looked at the box marked dorm room, “Oh gosh, if it is I don’t even remember putting it up here.”

“Open it up and let’s take a look. I’m ready for a little break anyway.” They had been sorting the attic all morning getting Judy’s things packed and ready to move in to her new house.

Joyce looked in the battered cardboard box at the jumble of items. Ticket stubs from long ago concerts, pictures of friends, scribble notes about classes and events, things that had once been tacked to a bulletin board in her college dorm room, papers written long ago, books from classes she could barely remember and at the bottom of the box an old letterman’s jacket. “Not the best packing job, but it was the last day of class and we needed to clear out quickly.”

Judy took the stack of pictures from the box and started looking through them. She stopped on one and handed the photo to her mother, “And who was this, hmm?”

Joyce saw a much younger version of herself wrapped in the arms of Eddie. Eddie smiling at the camera wearing his college letterman jacket that he was so proud of.

“Ah, Eddie, he was the last boy I dated before I met your father. “

“He’s cute.”

“He was and very charming. I remember at the slightest breeze he would take his jacket off and wrap it around me making sure I was warm. I faked a lot of chills.”

Judy laughed, “Mother, really! I would've never thought of you as that kind of girl!”

Joyce smiled at her daughter, “I wasn't. But something about Eddie made me feel like I could be.”

“What happened to him?”

“We broke up. I’m not a dainty little girl that likes being taken care of. He needed someone who was. It all worked out for the best.”

Judy looked in the box and saw the jacket folded in the bottom. “You still have his jacket? You should get in touch with him and let him know you found it! How excited would he be to get it back?”

Joyce smiled at her daughter and started putting the old pictures and mementos back in the box. “He would be surprised, that’s for sure.”

She hadn't been completely truthful with Judy about when she had packed that box. She had been in a hurry to get out of the dorm room but it hadn't been the last day of class. It was a month before school let out.  Stopping by her room in the middle of the day she had walked in on her roommate and Eddie making out. Eddie tried to calm her down, “Babe, it’s not what it looks like.” She hated being called babe; it made her think of the Blue Ox. She had told him that over and over. She yelled at him to get out of the room and her roommate wisely followed. Seeing his jacket tossed over her desk chair she had to fight the urge to throw it out the window. Instead it went in the bottom of the box and she ignored every plea from him to return it. Denying she even had it. 

Thirty years had passed, maybe Judy was right and she should get in touch with him and let him know his jacket had been found.

 “Babe, it’s not what it looks like. “

Or maybe not.

The things you do for love....

"How about this one? Everyone says I look lovely in this one."

"Yes, you do look lovely in that one, Mom, but you really need a picture of just you. Having a picture of you and Dad doesn't really send the message that you are ready to start dating again does it?"

"Oh! How about this one? We could use this one!"

"Mom, that's a picture of Angie."

"Everyone says she looks just like me. I think it would be fine."

"Mom, you cannot use a picture of your daughter on your dating profile. Angie is 45 years old. She looks like you did at 45, you are 70. How about this one? It's a good shot of you and it's only a few months old."

"I look like an old lady in that shot. How about if we go to the mall and get one of those glamour shots taken? I could get all made up and use that one!"

"Trust me, Mom, this one is perfect. Okay, now let's work on your interests. What do you want to include?"

"Are you sure we are using the right dating site? I got an email last week from Cougars.com offering to sign me up for free. Polly Ann says that cougars are very hot right now so maybe we should be using that one?"

"No, Mom, that's not really what you are looking for. Trust me this site will be better for you."

"Are you sure? I think I would make a lovely Cougar. I'm a complete MILF."

"Mom! Do you even know what that means?"

"Of course I do, dear. Polly Ann's grandson told her that it means Mature Interesting Lady Friend."

"Okay, well, that's not exactly what it means, but Polly Ann's grandson is a quick thinker. Let's just stick with Match okay?"

"Didn't your friend Janet find her boyfriend Marcus on Match? They were a lovely couple. He was so nice and polite and they seemed to have so much in common."

"Yes she did, and yes they really did."

"Why did they break up?"

"Well, umm, when Marcus was filling out his profile he forgot to mention that one of the things he and Janet would have in common was that they both liked men."

"Oh, well, that's too bad that they couldn't make it work anyway. Gay men can make wonderful husbands you know."

"What?"

"Oh they can. You remember my friend Betsy right? Her second husband was just wonderful and gayer than a Judy Garland movie marathon."

"Mother!"

"Oh I know, your generation thinks you know everything there is to know about everything. But we had a few tricks up our sleeves as well. He was a lovely man. And after her first husband died she just wanted someone that would take her to the show and to dinner and hold her hand and tell her she was pretty. He did all of those things and more. Just the best friend she could ever have and they really did love each other. So I wouldn't mind a gay husband either. Is there a site for that?"

"No, Mom, I don't think so. Why don't we just stick with this one? What do you want to list as your interests? Reading? Knitting? Traveling?"

"How about skydiving? Or white water rafting? Those sound like fun."

"But you don't do either of those. You are trying to find an actual good match for yourself. So being honest will be your best bet."

"Oh fine, you just fill it out and I will look at it later. Are you sure we shouldn't head to the mall for a glamour shot first? I could get you one as well. You have a nice rack, you should show it off more."

"Mother! Seriously!"

"It's true you do. Maybe I should take a picture that shows off a little more cleavage at least? You know men can't resist that sort of thing."

"Okay...and done. Your profile is now live. The next thing that will happen is the site will make recommendations for you based on your interests and what you are looking for in a companion. You can also look through profiles and see if anyone interests you and if they do you can send them a message."

"Oh, I don't know that I feel comfortable sending them a message. They should message me first I think, I don't want to seem too forward."

"Mom, you were just talking about posting a better shot of your cleavage online, and now you are worried about being too forward?"

"There is using what your momma gave you and being too forward, dear, there is a difference."

"Alright...well...anyway...let me know if you need anymore help but this should get you started. And remember, don't make dinner dates, meet for coffee only to see if you like the person. Don't give them your address or meet them at the house. Always let someone know if you are meeting someone for coffee..."

"....keep a quarter in your shoe in case you need to call for a ride. You sound like your father and I did when you girls first started dating. Don't worry so much, I've done this before. It's been awhile, but I'm sure it's just like riding a bicycle."

"Okay, you're right, it's just that world has changed so much since you were dating, I worry. Let me know if you need anything else, I need to get Bri from soccer practice but should be home by 7 if you need to call."

"I'll be fine, dear. Don't worry. Though I still think we should get one of those glamour shots."

A deep as a mud puddle....

Well it's official. Word came from my new podiatrist that like boot season before it flip flop season has been cancelled. He let me know that my normal way of being, strappy sandals, heeled boots, barefoot otherwise just wasn't going to cut it anymore and I would need to start wearing Ugly Shoes™. Which was not the deal at all. The deal was I went to the doctor he said, "Blah, blah, blah." I did "Blah, blah, blah" and then I was fine. But looks like that's not the case. Unless and until it gets bad enough for surgery I just have to treat my feet differently. And since surgery isn't really something either one of us wants I have to change the way I treat my feet.

Which means most of my summer shoe wardrobe has been relegated to the "sometimes" pile. Along with a good chunk of my winter shoe wardrobe. And my workout shoes. And then the fact that I'm supposed to start wearing shoes around the house as well instead of going barefoot. All of this is just driving me nuts. I love boot season and strappy sandal season. I love the summer when I can slip my shoes off and be barefoot where ever I am. If it's sitting on the grass someplace or at the beach walking in the sand. These are the joys. Working out barefoot? Yes please. I've been doing the minimalist shoe thing during the summer since forever...

Now I get to wear Ugly Shoes™. I mean, practical shoes. Shoes with a lot of structure. Shoes without a lot of flex. Shoes that keep my toe inline with my foot so shoes without much of a heel. And when I do this I get to avoid surgery and hopefully minimize any pain in my foot. This is a good thing. Fixing the problem without meds, without surgery, without cortisone shots. These are all good things. I'm thrilled. Really. As Brent put it I get to shop for all new shoes! Yay. And then he also said, "You're going to pout the whole time right?" And  yes, I probably will do that too. But I will try not to. I will try my hardest to see what a great thing this is.

So while all of this is going on I looked in the mirror this morning and thought to myself, I've had really good hair days the past two days, maybe I should rethink cutting it all off. Growing it out longer might be what I want to do instead of going back to the super short cut. I think I will change my mind. And then I realized that these two things were completely related.

Shoes for me are one of my few super girly areas. I love shoes the way that women stereo-typically do. There aren't a lot of other things about me that are stereo-typically girly. But my love of shoes is. But I have a hard time with shoes because I have an odd shaped foot, so getting a pair that fits well and looks cute is a major big deal win for me. And I love it. Strappy sandals and flip flops in the summer are easier than pumps. There is room for my wider toe box and I don't have to worry about my narrow heel. And I can get super cute ones for super cheap so I could wear (and have) a different pair every day. And there is nothing like a really cute pair of shoes to lift my mood. When you go to put on that skirt that somehow shrunk in the back of the closet and so you are bummed? Throw on your cutest gold sandals with the skirt you have to wear instead and you are fine. Especially with a fresh pedicure to show off your bright red toes.

Ah...here we go with the other big truth. Shoes don't care how much I weigh. I have had clothes two sizes smaller than I am right now and 4 sizes larger. But the shoes? Pretty much the same. Yes, there is a little play when I get bigger or smaller, but basically the shoes stay the same. When I was at my larger size I could still put on a cute pair of shoes and feel attractive. Right now I'm at a good size for me (yes, Skinny Bitch is still clamoring for about 10 pounds less but we shut her up with cake) so the shoes are just bonus. But when I am heavier? The shoes are the thing. And now I will have to rethink my work out choices so part of me is panicking a little as to what that is going to mean with my weight. Can I maintain and not do the higher impact aerobics? And still eat that cake??

And so the focus switched to my hair. BOOM! And I almost didn't catch myself doing it. See here is the thing, when my hair is really long that becomes all people notice. I can be heavier or thinner and it won't matter because I will be, "You know Denise, she has the really long hair?" No one will even notice my shoes because they won't get past the hair. I know this from past experience. I've had it really long a few times and I know how attached other people become to it. Trust me, if you know someone with really long hair ask them what happens when they think about cutting it off. People get possessive. You can't! Don't! Horrible!

Hair has always been a big deal to me. When I was little I had to keep it short. My sister had long hair and my mother said she would never ever go through that hassle again. So the pictures of Susan were of this gorgeous little girl with fat sausage curls and then there was me.

And it still does that weird little kick out to the side at this length

When I got old enough to take care of it myself I grew it out. Then when I got older I decided to grow it out and keep growing it to see how long I could get it. I was thinking Crystal Gayle when I started. But once C was born I realized that an extra 20 minutes to wash my hair was just not in my schedule so down to my butt was as far as it got before I cried uncle and cut it off. David (our hairdresser) donated the hair to locks of love and I kept it shorter, bob to shoulder, for quite a few years. Then I decided that I would grow it out and donate it again. And I did that twice. Then off it all went. And I've reached the point where it's time to cut it off again. I'm going too gray to grow it out and donate it so the thrill of growing it out just isn't there. And honestly I think I look better with shorter hair.

Or at least I thought so until I discovered I couldn't use my shoes for my girly outlet. Because see, when I was little and my hair was short I got called a boy a lot. And my sister took great relish in that fact. Long hair was for girls, short hair was for boys. Now there is no one on god's green earth that would mistake me for a boy anymore but I guess there is still a part of that living inside me. That feeling of, will I still be feminine if I cut off my hair and start wearing plain shoes? I don't have a lot of girly things to give up, if I give up these two what does that mean?

And then I had to ask myself why I cared. I'm pretty comfortable in my own skin. No matter what size I happen to be at the time. (hush, Skinny Bitch). It's all vanity and I get that. There are more important things to worry about in life and I get that too. And I'm smart and I'm funny and I'm turning in to a Stuart Smalley joke right before your eyes...

So today I watched a few episodes of one of the girliest TV shows out there and found myself fascinated by the time and money these women were putting in to their weddings and recognized again that I'm just not that kind of girl. And as I get ready to go to the hockey game tonight and I put on my sensible shoes it will be okay because that's the kind of girl I am. And short or long hair, low or high heel, barefoot or sensible shoes aren't going to change that.

Oh and I'm not giving up my pedicures....