just putting it on the back burner. 2 months ago

I asked her if we could put natural dye in my hair to get rid of the white hairs. I’ll see what she says. 6 months ago

I never left the house; I just felt good wearing earrings.

I’m also starting to wonder about having a stylist friend of mine give me a natural color job. I know I have white hairs as a result mostly of stress rather than age and it’s pretty annoying to see in the mirror. 7 months ago

So, it’s another matter of seeking the middle path. I didn’t grow up in the Victorian South, but it pretty well felt like it. If you weren’t immaculately clean in every respect, groomed like a prize poodle with nary a hair out of place, shaven and buffed to a nearly incandescent glow, covered in perfume and makeup and the latest fashions, and God only knows what I’m blocking out of my memory, well, you were supposed to be ashamed of yourself and right it before anyone noticed, regardless of the cost. I played along for the most part until I was about sixteen, and then the rebellion started.

I was tired of being told what women “must” do. Pink was out of the question. Fine, I’d wear a bra to school, but once summer vacation hit, forget it. I started shopping for my shirts in the young men’s section rather than the ladies’; I was tired of the Miss Priss nonsense and I rather enjoyed wandering around in bold, deep colors with dragon motifs. Before long, to my family’s horror, I refused to wear makeup. “God gave me this face and there’s not a thing wrong with it,” I said. “What do I have to go to such efforts to ‘make up’ for?” My mother failed in her efforts to convince me that I “looked dead” without it. It was a waste of time, money, and energy, and was probably contributing to the blackheads and zits that my mother was always berating me about anyway. I’d made up my mind.

Over the last decade or so, a combination of busyness, poverty, and plain old depression made it too hard for me to do much more than shower daily. I don’t look horrible; nature is pretty kind to me on the whole and I don’t have to put in an overwhelming amount of effort to look pretty darn good. But I don’t feel fully at choice this way. I have an entire armoire full of jewelry I never wear, just because I don’t think of it. I used to really enjoy wearing it. I have a couple of boxes full of interesting clothes that I seldom wear; I’m too busy and don’t think of it. I just grab a t-shirt and go. It’s not fun.

There is no point in doing anything that doesn’t make life more fulfilling, so I stand by my choice not to wear makeup or high heeled shoes or anything ridiculous (for me anyway) like that. But what if I could change my appearance in ways I actually enjoy?

I realize now that pedicures aren’t such a ridiculous frivolity for me. I’m on my feet constantly, and I work barefoot most of the time. It’s nice to have pretty feet…and it generally feels good getting there. I had my first pedicure in I think 7 months this morning…and I rescheduled for next month already. I felt guilty about spending the money at first…but what the heck, it’s my money. I work darned hard for it. Most people who don’t work half as hard as I do are going out getting their hair done, going to movies, going to dinner, paying for ultra premium cable, spending Saturday night at the bar or whatever…I don’t do any of that. Why am I not entitled to do this much? And what if I think of other things I might enjoy doing for myself? Who’s going to tell me I’m wrong to do that? B will be gone by the time I get my next pedicure. As for F (the king Frenemy)...well he thought it was wasteful of me to order orange juice in a restaurant when he had offered to take me to breakfast, so I think we know where he stands, and he needs to just stay out of the loop and not know what I’m doing in my life one way or the other!

Hey, while I’m thinking about it, I wonder what earrings I have that might go well with this shirt… 10 months ago