Friday, May 15, 2009
I have a romantic idea of the person I'd like to be, she's right out of a novel. She doesn't blush, she makes plans and keeps them, she stays up late and gets up early, she works out 'cause it feels good, she writes novels, she shops often enough to have a pretty good rotation of a wardrobe going, she remembers birthdays and sends cards on time, nix that, early, she spends hours at a time lounging and reading a great book while enjoying a reasonably-sized glass of wine, she has a tasteful tattoo and remembers to go for regular hair cuts and has her hair coloured in the salon, not from a boxed mix, she takes the dog to obedience school, she has a career she is passionate about, she is able to bring dying plants back to life, she walks the dog twice a day without fail, she is motivated enough to write the exams for grad school, she is motivated enough to figure out whether she WANTS to go to grad school, she is well versed in the names of her favorite songs rather than just the general tune, she doesn't open-mouth-insert-foot on a regular basis, she has a relatively strong grasp on regular small talk rather than feeling stumped on something to say other than umm, yeah, can you believe we had snow this morning? In May? Yeah.
I like to think that this person exists, but I also like to think that other people feel the same way, like somewhere along the way something just slips away-- you spend your childhood thinking that you will grow up and everything will just happen. I'm still waiting.
When I was growing up I wanted to write and I still want to. I just don't have the confidence that I used to have, but I`m working on it.