Writing, Running, Being.

The finish line is a shifty Thing and what is life, but reckoning?
Ani DiFranco

Friday, December 28, 2007

the same old me

Jonas graduated to a big boy car seat today. As I wrestled with the unfamiliar straps and complicated buckles, a small lump formed in my throat. Wasn't it just the other day I was still in the delivery room going through the same ordeal with the foreign straps of the newborn car seat? An image of an angsty teenage Jonas peeling out of the driveway with no car seat at all popped in my head and I had to bite my lip and blink back the ridiculous tears. Time goes so fast. I'm just biding time with him.


I'm beginning to think that some sort of arrested development occurred in my brain somewhere between 4th and 5th grade. When I close my eyes and try to picture who it is that I think I am, the picture is one of me on the ferry to Fire Island with my dad. I'm almost 10 and I'm wearing a kitty sweatshirt I painted myself with craft paint and a stencil. I have about 40 friendship bracelets on each wrist. And bangs. Big thick ones. I want a hamster and pierced ears and a perm and I can't wait.
Brian's mom gave me banana clips in my stocking this Christmas. I couldn't help but smile at how great they would have looked almost 15 years ago with the perm I never got. You know, often when I see middle aged office ladies that still have feathered hair and shoulder pads I think to myself "What's her problem? Doesn't she know she's stuck in the early 90's?" I guess time just goes so fast that they don't notice the fashions rapidly changing around them. They are in their offices, stuck happily in their primes, probably not even giving a shit about the bright chunky jewelry that has replaced delicate gold heart shaped lockets and cheesy charm bracelets. They don't care that the girls are now straightening their hair, rather than teasing and perming.


I try to stick to the classics. I wear a lot of black because I'm just not hip enough to keep up. Every now and then if there's something that has seriously caught on, I'll jump on the wagon a little late and hang out toward the back, so no one notices just in case I want to jump back off. I do have some pretty big ass sunglasses. One thing you will never see me do is wear fuzzy boots over tight jeans. I'm not really a good candidate for that look anyway because A) I'm too short and fat for it and B) I'm not a movie star.


Brown is the new Black
Less is the new More
Old is the new Young
Skin is the new Coat
Modest is the new Vain
and I am the same old Me

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