No One Has Ever Called Me A Diva (To My Face)
'Swiss Miss' unloads her Philip Morris Smokes to the trash compactor, for the hundredth time. (She will continue to unload them for years to come in noble attempts to avoid lung cancer.)
This is how I wish to be remembered, both now, and when I'm gone. Spiritually speaking, this is what I will look like for all time. If I come back as a ghost, this is what frightened little girls will see come out of their closets. I have returned to the big important dilemma of what to do with my hair. I desperately need a haircut (or trim) and my eye brows are now taking over my forehead, so a visit to the salon is necessary. I was going to grow my hair out to just past my shoulders, but now I think maybe I just want to return to the simple state of the bob. Bobs are good. Anyway, I was digging through old photos looking for examples of my hair long, and short, for a little unscientific study. The problem with using old photos is that I was thin then. I'm not now. You can't really compare the two and come up with an intelligent opinion. The only thing I know everyone would agree on is: GET THAT FOREST OFF YOUR FACE!
I have grown my hair out long (down to my ass once) many times and so this dilemma periodically tortures me. Looking at these pictures doesn't really make me nostalgic...OK, I was trying on that lie for size, but it doesn't fit. I DO feel nostalgic looking at those pictures because I was able to wear whatever I wanted, and consequently, I put my best truest self forward. Now I can only fit into really boring big clothes, the kind that one gets at Ross when one is lucky. Big people fashions. BORING. (I realize there are companies out there that make pretty nice almost stylish clothes for the large lady, but I can't afford to buy those clothes. When I was thinner and poor, I could find all kinds of cool cheap clothes used, and I could make myself cool clothes.) Unfortunately, I find it terribly disheartening to try to make myself clothes right now when nothing makes me look less like a potato sack.
I should view these photos as inspiration. I've mostly decided I'm going to get a bob, wax the brows into submission, and then this week (when all the relatives are gone) I'm going to attempt to get up early and take Chick for an hour walk every morning. Early. Which means I'll have to set the alarm. And go to bed early. Which means less time for beer.
I am heaving a huge sigh here...I guess I better also start counting the damn calories again until this big sack of a body starts to shape up. It's effective. And then I might be able to wear my tiara again by christmas without looking ridiculous.
It's time for me to hop into my K-Mart mom uniform and get ready to look really boring for work. But I'll be imagining I'm wearing a dirndle and aprons again. I'll be dreaming of when I can open up my old wardrobe like it's brand new and dress appropriately for my personality.
*By the way, I keep trying to use the spell check feature when composing in blogspot, but it won't work for me. If you know the trick please tell me. In the mean time, if you observe a ton of spelling errors, then you know I didn't compose it in word. Please forgive the errors!
I have grown my hair out long (down to my ass once) many times and so this dilemma periodically tortures me. Looking at these pictures doesn't really make me nostalgic...OK, I was trying on that lie for size, but it doesn't fit. I DO feel nostalgic looking at those pictures because I was able to wear whatever I wanted, and consequently, I put my best truest self forward. Now I can only fit into really boring big clothes, the kind that one gets at Ross when one is lucky. Big people fashions. BORING. (I realize there are companies out there that make pretty nice almost stylish clothes for the large lady, but I can't afford to buy those clothes. When I was thinner and poor, I could find all kinds of cool cheap clothes used, and I could make myself cool clothes.) Unfortunately, I find it terribly disheartening to try to make myself clothes right now when nothing makes me look less like a potato sack.
I should view these photos as inspiration. I've mostly decided I'm going to get a bob, wax the brows into submission, and then this week (when all the relatives are gone) I'm going to attempt to get up early and take Chick for an hour walk every morning. Early. Which means I'll have to set the alarm. And go to bed early. Which means less time for beer.
I am heaving a huge sigh here...I guess I better also start counting the damn calories again until this big sack of a body starts to shape up. It's effective. And then I might be able to wear my tiara again by christmas without looking ridiculous.
It's time for me to hop into my K-Mart mom uniform and get ready to look really boring for work. But I'll be imagining I'm wearing a dirndle and aprons again. I'll be dreaming of when I can open up my old wardrobe like it's brand new and dress appropriately for my personality.
*By the way, I keep trying to use the spell check feature when composing in blogspot, but it won't work for me. If you know the trick please tell me. In the mean time, if you observe a ton of spelling errors, then you know I didn't compose it in word. Please forgive the errors!