I think I wrote the post below in about 2008.
I know I took the pink hair selfie above in June 2015.
Some things never change.
I don’t fit in.
Never have. Maybe never will. And while the “outside” can often be lonely place, there’s also lots to be relished about being a rebel.
It means I can still don purple suede boots, black lace stockings, short skirts, and the jean jacket I embroidered and wore with such pride when I was 13 (it doesn’t matter that it’s literally falling apart at the seams now).
I feel comfortable in big, fat, fluffy, black boas, pink leather jackets, matching Crocs, and Girl About Town fuscia lipstick. I’m the queen of classy/elegant funk, and I exploit my unique sense of style with impunity. I’m equally comfortable in overalls.
I have a tattoo in the palm of my right hand that says “destiny” in Chinese characters. I got it the day after I got my first five tattoos (which are more discretely positioned ;).
I leave my hair naturally silver, and line my eyes with blue and green.
I’m direct and opinionated, and some of the things that come out of my mouth surprise even me! (I can also be tactful, though some people might find that hard to believe…)
I wear jeans to work. I also wear pink. A lot. Which is a bit strange because, until 2005, I despised pink.
In my view, eyeglasses are fashion accessories as well as tools, so I have super cool ones – people frequently ask me where I got them, and hardly ever say: “What are you doing? Act your age!” (Which is 56, BTW, in case you’re counting.)
I believe in bling – the blingier the better. I also believe in simple abundance.
I do what I want, when I want, where I want (within reason), with whomever I like. If anyone else wants to join in, fine. And if they don’t, so be it, I do it anyway. That means I’m often alone. I’ve become OK with that.
I’m insatiably curious. I talk to strangers. Everywhere. All the time. I love to hear their stories. People are absolutely amazing.
I fail A LOT more than I succeed (or so it would seem to the casual observer in me). I stumble. I fall. I get up. (OK. Sometimes I crawl for awhile, but eventually I DO get up, a little bruised and battered, but not broken.)
I dance with joyful abandon, and once I start, I usually don’t stop for a long, long time.
I work hard; I play hard. I wish my body didn’t need sleep.
I have a wide diversity of interests, and I’m a wannabe geek.
I don’t answer to anyone or anything but the universe and my own conscience.
I’m joyful, tearful, happy, sad, lonely, and connected. Or not. I’m ordinary and extraordinary. Just like you are.
My mind and my body are inextricably connected. The health of each depends on the health of the other, so I stay fit in order to stay sane and vice versa.
I cry in most movies, especially on planes, and I don’t care who stares.
I seek inner peace amidst the chaos. I surrender defiantly.
I’m a feminist (that means I’m for women, but NOT AGAINST MEN, just to be clear, for the gazillionth time *sigh*). I believe women are equal to men. I believe we should be treated equally and fairly. I know women are powerful and amazing.
I don’t expect ever to be famous, like the people in the infamous Apple commercial here
, but I would like to change the world, for the better, in whatever small way I can.
I aspire to be crazy. I’m a misfit, a rebel, a troublemaker, a round peg in a square hole. Or a square peg in a round hole. Depending on which day of the week it is 😛
I want to celebrate and emulate the craziness of the crazies, in tribute to the wonderful magic they/we/you bring to the world. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.
That’s me 🙂 Who are you?