february 25th...tick tick tick

tick tick tick
Current mood:  overstimulated

..

Time management has never been my forte. Not sure what my forte is now that I think about it but time management is not one of the multiple choice options.

I chalk it up to my creative temperament but not sure that is the answer. There are certain types of people who are ingrained with the ability to manage time effectively becoming masters of duration. My mom is one of those people but my dad is the complete opposite and needs strict deadlines or else nothing gets done. Sounds far too familiar to me and has me thinking about my productivity....or my lack thereof. I'm a procrastinator. If it can wait until tomorrow, then tomorrow it will be. Since I have started my new photography venture along with school, being a mom, running a household and going through the divorce, I have become painfully aware of just how daunting of a task it is for someone like me.

Be productive and be creative? Are you serious???

The thing that drives me crazy about my procrastinative ability (yes, I made up that word because I like it) is that it hinders my creative process. So often I will get an idea and be really interested and inspired only to find that there are more pressing matters with which to attend. All because I decided not to do them long ago when I had the chance and piddled my time instead. Then it becomes a downward spiral of negating internal dialogue, dissection of why I procrastinate so vigilantly and how I want to change my time sucking skills.

I sat with my favorite head shrinker today and talked about how difficult it is for me to start a project and complete it. Partly because I have ADD tendencies and yes, I do believe the medication has made a drastic difference but there are other elements at play. Since as early as I can remember I have enjoyed exploring different crafts, hobbies, activities. I like to dip my toes in the water and see whether I like the way it feels before diving. Then I dive in and swim for a while but then the water gets too warm and doesn’t feel good anymore. So I move onto the next pool, dive in but now this water is contaminated with the other pool I just left. Eventually all of the pools become muddy and nothing looks appealing. Wow...went way too far with the metaphor but you get the drift. Moving on.

I am a self proclaimed procrastinistic (made up that word too…this is fun), creative, restless perfectionist. I want everything done precisely the way it is meant to be or I don't want to do it at all. It makes it difficult to get things done when you are not only a person who strives to do the best but also wants to be creative, wild and free in the process. Not a great blueprint for increased productivity! It goes back to the balancing act of finding that inner level of comfort between the two,  or three or four things depending on the day.

I am turning dilly-dallying into an art form this fine Thursday morning by shunning my other duties and writing a blog that could have waited for another time. I did, however, accomplish 7 out of the 10 on my to do list so I have that going for me today. Suppose I'll see how the other 3 pools pan out but I have a feeling they will all turn to mud too if left to my bohemian hand.

february 21st...the good life

the good life
Current mood:  content

..................

“The good life starts only when you stop wanting a better one."

Couldn't say it any better myself but don’t ask me who said it because I have no clue. To be present, in the moment, living life right now, a good life and stop wanting what you think you want. Instead want what you have. Novel idea and one I’m living by these days. Just being happy to have what I have. It’s so very Oprah of me and feels a little corny and self righteous. Suppose I’ll start using the term “authentic self” soon too. If I do, please let me know so I can shut the hell up.

Over the past year or so I have reached out to reconnect with some people from my past. By past I mean teen years and young adulthood. I married fucktard at the ripe old age of 25 but in those 10 years prior, I packed in a whole lot of independent living.  When I got married I chose to leave behind another life that was filled with some pretty interesting folks. Artists, smokers, your everyday Joe's just trying to figure out who they want to be when they grow up and all the while refusing to grow up. I have missed that part of my life. Just didn’t realize it missed me just as badly.

Yesterday I was blessed, and I do mean blessed in every sense of the word, to have brunch with some old friends. These are the kind of girls I hung with back in the day. They all know too much about my sordid escapades and I have a shitload of stories about them as well. Free spirited, wild, uninhibited creative minded goddesses that lived life without a burden. We went our separate ways, married, babies, adult life, the usual bullshit and responsible lifestyles. We all made compromises and changes along the way but somehow we are all the same kids under the adult layers. The same tenacious spirit lives in all of us and man alive, seeing it seep its way back into our lives is astounding.  And now it’s coming full circle. Again. These fucking circles are everywhere I turn these days. Jeesh. Might just be time for that mandala tattoo I’ve been designing and pondering.

Anyway, I go to this brunch with these ladies, take in all of the good energy, the spirit of these women and I am again reminded that this is the right path for me. I get these little inklings that things are going exactly the way that they are meant to be. It can be good conversation with friends, a flicker in my children’s eye, the glance or touch I get from switch that lets me know he's real. Whatever it is, it is there. I get that warm feeling in my belly a lot lately and I’m becoming very comfortable with it. Makes me wonder how I ever went so long without feeling it.

I am happy with my life. It's not a shell anymore. I have less than I have ever had monetarily speaking but I am rich in every other way possible. I have no real income (gulp), a stack of paperwork thanks to the court system and a million reasons to want to bury my head in the sand or panic…or maybe both. But I don’t feel like hiding or freaking out. Sometimes the gravity becomes too much but the majority of the time I am moving along quite nicely. My photography business is taking off, I began taking college classes, I am working on my web design work (so someday I will have real income) and the mess that is my divorce from fucktard is progressing.

I’m living it. That was the key all along. To stop wanting more and start loving what you have. Everything that I do seems to point to the right path. I’m relishing in this beautiful man in my life. He loves me, I love him and we love bacon. It is just that perfectly simply with him. My kids bring me so much joy every day I can hardly contain myself. This reconnection to friends from long ago and some new ones along the way strengthens me and gives me hope. My family gives me the roots to keep growing and nurtures me in mind and body. And I’m actually starting to like myself more. I’m slightly happy with what I see in the mirror (slightly, I still have major issues).  I may not look any different in the physical sense but I feel like I radiate.

Yes indeed. Life feels very sweet today.  So sweet that I just want to coat it in chocolate, roll it in powdered sugar and eat it up, every last bite.

february 17th...ashes anyone?

ashes anyone?
Current mood:  quiet 

 

 

....no i'm not catholic and no i'm not particularly religious per se, not in the traditional sense anyway. but ash wednesday marks the beginning of the lenten season for christians and thus starts a time when we modern day folks try and give up on a vice or habit. 

i have tried to give something up for "lent" in the past and this year had me thinking about what exactly i should be giving up. i have tried chocolate, beer, caffeine but i always go back to them before my time is up. willpower is not my strong suit.

the pastor at church gave up facebook which i find both funny and tragic. the youth pastor gave up saying "no" to people which i find incredibly stupid. then again, he is the youth pastor and doesn't know his way around life just yet. then i became curious as to what it will truly signify in the traditional sense if i gave up something for lent. just how did our modern society became so skewed in our interpretation of this time in relation to biblical teachings. so curiosity got the best of me and i began looking at the meaning of ash wednesday via the ever faithful world wide web. here's the 411, condensed version of course.

ash wednesday derives its name from the practice of placing ashes on the foreheads of christians as a sign of repentance. the minister or priest general makes the sign of the cross on your forehead and says "remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." it signifies the beginning of the 40 days in which jesus fasted and prayed, resisting the temptations of sin while in the desert. it is a time for us to relinquish power and draw only on our spiritual nature as a guide to do what is right and just. pretty powerful stuff if you ask me. 

reflection and repentance. food for thought. but the amazing part is that somehow we have translated this sacred experience into a time to give up things like chocolate, alcohol, caffeine. 40 days of kicking a habit, a vice so to speak. somehow along the way it became more about denying yourself something that you enjoy, perhaps to the point of excess, for a short period of time and then going back to it as soon as the season is over. in fact, we celebrate the end of those 40 days with lots of cheer and excitement. yeah us!!!! we can have chocolate again. suppose it is somewhat like turning away from sin and proclaiming your faith but i find that a stretch.

temporary cessation of a bad habit. seriously? we have become so narrow, so absolute in our thinking that we have reduced what could be a powerful spiritual journey into not eating salty foods for 40 days because excessive salt is a sin? did i miss something here? i mean, even those people around me who are suppose to be "spiritual" in their daily lives are giving up things like facebook and beer. frankly, i think it's pretty sad.

sad because this occasion doesn't call for giving up fast food stops on the way home. it calls for deep spiritual exploration. a time to look at yourself, look at what your life means, how you live it and a time to repent and ask forgiveness. for some people it's asking forgiveness from god in the christian sense but i think it's bigger than that. i look at it as forgiving yourself, moving forward and learning from past "transgressions". i'm still pissed that tiger the dick-flinging golf prodigy took such a powerful word as his own simply because he couldn't keep it in his trousers. another blog, another time.

it's about exploring your existence, having faith or rediscovering a faith you have lost. perhaps it's a faith in your god, a faith in this big old universe or faith in yourself. that's the beauty in exploring it. what will it hold for you? for me it's not about giving something up. it's about the movement into something better, something bigger. it's about faith in myself, in the process, in the moment. so i'm not going to give up beer, chocolate, caffeine, profanity, sex. nope. besides, chocolate is about the only one i would have a good shot at giving up anyway. the others are just too damned much fun!

instead i want to take the next 40 days and own them. truly live in the moment and turn inward, becoming my own teacher. i want it to be a time to reflect, re-examine and forgive myself. really examine what is happening and start finding that inner balance we all seek. i doubt that i'll find it in 40 days and i hope that my journey doesn't end at that time.

but in the meantime i will not deny myself coffee to prove that i am worthy. no way. i doubt that giving it up would make me worthy of the love of the universe anyway. the universe wants me to have coffee. otherwise, it wouldn't be in my pantry.

february 14....elvis, vegas and a shit-ton of bacon

elvis, vegas and a shit-ton of bacon
Current mood:  silly

..elvis, vegas and a shit-ton of bacon.

the past few weeks have been stressful to say the least. but peppered in there have been some unusual conversations between me and switch. namely a few involving the "c" word (commitment). for some reason, the topic of commitment, marriage, kids, future kept coming up either between the two of us or because of third party conversations. one way or another, i think we were both getting just a little freaked out about the whole thing. so i decided to cut it off at the pass and make sure switch knew where i stood.

and where is that? well, i have no intention of getting married again, although i would probably entertain the idea given the right circumstances. but honestly, i can't see me doing it again. no reason really. i've been there, done that, and it aint all it's cracked up to be. besides, i think people start neglecting each other when a band of gold is involved. but that's another theory for another time. anyway, we had been talking about it, reassuring each other that it's not something that either of us plan in our future. big sigh of relief from both of us on that one!

however, being the creative goofballs that we are, we began joking about what a wedding involving the two of us might look like. i stated that the only way i would do it was in vegas. at which time he upped the ante and said that not only would it have to be in vegas but that "elvis" would have to do the ceremony. and that's where the silliness begins.

somehow we ended up with a wedding in vegas, officiated by an elvis impersonator. switch would wear a circa 1970's elvis jumpsuit complete with cape of course. then i decided that his belt buckle would have to be encrusted in rhinestones spelling out the name buttercup. and i would wear a skin tight red dress, pinup girl hair and enough cleavage to make any man drool. following all of this would be a kick-ass party with a live band, ice cold redneck martinis, our very best friends and families, a breakfast buffet and a tower of bacon. lots and lots and lots of bacon. and dare we forget to include some fucking fraynch toast!

and there you have it. i am in love with a man that i can be silly with about a subject that is generally taboo. i mean how cool is it that we can laugh at each other at the thought of running off to vegas and getting married? not many relationships where you can take a serious subject and make it something so silly, so ridiculous. but that's just how much fun we have with each other. he's my sweet, elvis jumpsuit wearing, crazy ass fucking man. and i love him. i really do love him.

so this valentines day i will spend with my kids, making brownies and getting all sorts of mommy loving. i do love all the snuggle time with the little rugrats. makes me so happy to be a mom. and hopefully my sweet man will spend his day off with a few beers and some great nascar action. and although i won't see him this valentines day, i will spend my day thinking about how lucky i am to have such a great guy who loves me, can laugh with me, enjoys my odd brand of humor and my love of all things bacon. indeed this year is a great one to celebrate love sweet love.

february 11...i only love you once a year

i only love you once a year
Current mood:  romantic

..i only love you once a year. um, thanks, i guess.

that's the message i always get from valentine's day. it's like carrying a "get out of jail free" card the other 364 days out of the year. now i'm not comparing love to jail. don't get me wrong. the genuine real deal love thing is quite possibly the most powerful emotion i've had yet. but seriously folks, what kind of a message does valentine's day send?

i think....since the soapbox is out and has my name blinking in lights above it...that lots of couples use valentine's day as an excuse to neglect each other the remainder of the year. it's a day when men spend ridiculous amounts of money on flowers, candles, lingerie, expensive dinners, lavish gifts, jewelry and spa days. woman fall victim to it too, going out and buying sexy dresses, planning to please their husband with something from "the folder" that night. or perhaps they buy them that nine iron they've been drooling over at the country club. somehow we feel we have to buy these things to show our love for each other. i find the whole thing rather sad and not at all romantic.

well i have a better idea. i know, surprising right? instead of put-zing around all year, acting with little emotion, rarely telling your wife/lover/girlfriend/sex slave what they mean to you, try telling her you love her. tell her you love her and appreciate her for who she is everyday. not just for the gussied up woman who walks out of the bedroom that one night out of the year, ready for a special night that includes shaving her legs and doing some extra "trimming" all so you can have one night of dirty sex because she feels obligated. 

instead try telling her you love her when you come home, find the house a mess, the kids in time out, dinner burned and your wife crying in the corner because she can't do the job of 5 people. tell her you love her when she comes home from the gym, breathless and defeated from that damned eliptical she hasn't touched in 3 years. tell her how much she means to you when you need her the most and when you need her the least. just say it, show it, make sure she knows. i guarantee you that she'll be more willing to try something dirty more than once a year.

now this all sounds pretty sexist since i'm writing an open letter to men but don't misunderstand me. women are just as bad at this whole appreciation thing as men are...i'm just in a man bashing mood. so ladies, remember to tell that man of yours that you love him when he's coming in from mowing the yard, when he gets home from work, tired and worn down. tell him how much he means to you for the little things he does everyday that go unnoticed by other people.

so instead of the silly nonsensical little gifts and such, just tell me i look nice, even when i don't. tell me you love me and make me feel desired, confident, beautiful. that's all i really want. i just want to know that i matter to someone else. that the love and affection that i give is returned.  

i don't want to be appreciated once a year. i want to be loved everyday, all day for the rest of my life. so please keep your silly hallmark kissing bears, your heart shaped soaps, the box of godiva's, the sappy cards and the crotchless underwear.....i take that back, you can continue gifting the skivvies and the chocolates but everything else goes.

so tell me i'm the woman that rocks your world. that's all i ask.

february 10....you sunk my battleship

you sunk my battleship
Current mood:  amused 

 

....looks as though we have ourselves a little game to play.

i've always been good at games. i loved sorry, connect 4, concentration just to name a few. but i remember one game in particular that i loved playing with my brother. battleship. oh, that game kicks ass. despite the fact that he is 4 1/2 years my senior and a wicked smart guy, i could read my brother like a book. i always knew when he was bluffing, just how much longer it would take to sink his battleship, which move to make next. it was never a guessing game. i just knew i was going to win, even if i didn't. and when i didn't win, i never felt defeated by him. only challenged to play again.

that's what it comes down to at this point. confidence. knowing that you are right on in your estimation of when and where to make your next move. only now, the moves have far greater stakes in the form of financial well being as well as the well being of two great little redheaded chillens. never doubting that the strategy is the right one is the name of the game. granted, let's not be naive here. there are always times to regroup, restrategize, reevaluate the game. that's what makes you a good player. but the old adage of "never let them see you sweat" could not be any more dead on than right now.

so fucktard wants to play a game i like to call one man up. oh yes, he has decided to try and get one up on me. i don't blame him really. in the strategy department, it's the right time to strike. my defenses are down, i'm shot in the energy department, trying to juggle everyday life with full time motherhood, a part time job, developing a website, starting my own photography business including business licensing, procedures, my attorney and the endless paperwork. honestly, the list just gets longer and more daunting by the hour. but i'm picking one thing at a time and going for it. that "f" word wants so badly to be a part of my life right now but i just won't have it. 

fucktard decided not only to close out our mutual checking and savings accounts on monday, he also wanted to show his generous side. he's so sweet that way! so he gave me a check for $500 to last the remainder of the month. it is to be used to buy groceries for me & the kids, electricity, phone, cable, general cost of living kind of thing. what a generous guy, huh? but wait....it gets better. yesterday he decided to file for divorce. now, i had already met with my attorney, approved the paperwork and the like and asked for a temporary hearing to determine "needs" aka financial support so i was feeling pretty one up in the game. but here comes fucktard trying to get in a good move.

well kudos big guy because you indeed did get one up on me the past two days. it had me feeling defeated, annoyed, downright pissy. i literally had to stop myself from punching in a wall, pulling out my hair and plotting some horrible revenge. it takes a good amount to get me that riled up but he pushed those buttons. he moved his peg into E4 and almost took down my big ship. almost.

but i rallied and remembered back to the confidence of being a kiddo playing a game involving plastic ships and pegs. strategy, timing, arrogance, confidence, determination. this time i don't have to try and determine what he'll do next. i already know what he's planning. i can read him less like a book and more like cliff notes at this point. after all, fucktard is anything but worthy of book binding.

so i'll press on with this lovely little game. and by lovely, i mean anything but lovely. in fact, it's a big fucking messing and fucktard is certainly manning his own vessel on this one. nope, no more copilot to tell him right from wrong, which way to head to thwart off danger or a pirate attack. instead i've branched out and have my own fleet that are moving along nicely with the ebbs and flows, guns drawn and ready for battle.

i look forward to the moment when i get to hear him say "you sunk my battleship". nothing better than a good victory to seal the deal.

february 6...the folder

the folder
Current mood:kinkyish

....when i moved out of the house, i decided that i wanted to explore the city a bit more. put my middle aged toes back into the single woman pond so to speak. i don't really consider myself single because, well, i am still technically married and i'm madly in love with switch. so although i'm somewhat single, i don't really consider myself available per se. but i promised myself that i would get out more, explore and enjoy myself as much as possible. and so far i'm having a blast!

anywhoo, i got tickets to see a comedian last night downtown. there were two opening comedians and then the headliner. all very funny but the headliner did a bit at the end of the show that talked about secrets men and women keep from each other. there was a part about how women play mind games with men, yada yada yada. after he was done impersonating women and these challenges we pose in relationships, which were pretty funny, he started talking about something that he claims all men hide from their wives/girlfriends called "the folder".

now, the folder is that place on your hard drive, buried deep within your data files that's labeled with some generic name so your other half won't find it. believe the comedian called it something like "tax return 2003" but you get the drift. contained within this file are sexual, perverse, offensive things that men keep. why do they keep them? if asked, they honestly don't know. but for some reason, they keep them hidden, safe on their hard drive for a just in case moment when you either can't find your other smut or you want to show your buddy something outlandish. boys are silly that way.

what i found so funny about this concept is that i don't think it's just men who have the folder. in fact, i think women have one that even dirtier, they just don't have the balls to admit it.  perhaps it's filthy pictures of themselves that they've sent to boyfriends...not that i would know anything about this one of course...photos of big cocks, money shots, stupid dirty jokes, disgusting emails they've received that they can't bear to put into the delete folder, offensive images or videos that would get you kicked out of the pta. who knows. 

what i do know is that i have one of those folders. you probably do too. i think everyone has a folder, whether it's part of your laptop hard drive or the hard drive wired in your mind. we all have dirty fantasies. fantasies that you have considered if you could just find the right person to play along. and why shouldn't you? sex is good. being playful and exploring is fun. perversion can be good as long as it doesn't hurt anyone, unless you're into that sort of thing.

it's a natural, creative, exploratory part of sexuality and i think it's silly to hide it away like it's something shameful. there's no shame in dressing up like a french maid and being spanked, if that's what you like. if you want to pretend that you're a cowgirl and ride your man around like a stallion, by all means have yourself a rodeo. i must clarify that neither of these fantasies are a part of my own folder. that's between me and my hard drive. but i say, to each their own!

the comedian challenged all the couples in the audience to go home and ask your significant other to try something from "the folder". sounds like a challenge i might enjoy. i encourage you to do the same. open the file, pick something with just one X....you can try the XXX smut once you warm your partner up to the idea...and have a ball (or two).

i just wonder if switch will be concerned when i pull out the honey and the blindfold later tonight? hey, you never know unless you try.

February 5...the four letter "f" word

the four letter "f" word
Current mood:  ninja 

 

..if you thought it was the word FUCK then you obviously don't know me very well and i suggest you hit the eject button before you become offended. on second thought, fuck it. i hope you stick around and see just how often i use the fucking word. if you're offended, fuck off. fucking fuckerton. it's fucktastic!

kay, that felt good. a little late evening profanity always wakes my ass up. but back to the subject at hand. the "f" word.

F.E.A.R.

you know it, you've felt it, you might be experiencing it right this very second. fear is a word i've never much cared for really and that's just based on how it sounds. has a tendency to be nasally and whiny which gets on my last fucking nerve. but besides the auditory factor alone, i don't like the general connotation. it sounds weak, defeatist, negative.

unfortunately, but entirely expected, i've been experiencing a large surge of fear, particularly in the last week. pretty hard not to feel like i'm going to shit my pants any second considering the facts that (a) i left fucktard after 14 years (b) have no job...or at least nothing steadily paying the bills (c) in the middle of a messy divorce (d) trying to raise two beautiful chillens (e) have no idea what is waiting behind door number 2. in all honesty, i'm scared of my own shadow right now. the fear takes over and sets me right back down in the same spot it decided to pick me up. to the concrete shoes i'm wearing tonight.

so what the hell am i so fucking scared of anyway? dissection time. i have always been scared of something. as a child, it was the closet at night. damned poltergeist movie did me in for good! as a teenager, it was being home alone accompanied by a fear of knives and fire. weird, huh? as a young woman, it was many things, but for a long time it was simply the feeling of being alone with myself. opening up and taking all the guts out and trying to put them back in...metaphorically of course. i was afraid i wouldn't know how to piece myself back together. i have always been scared of being a failure, of trying and not succeeding so why try at all? i know, defeatist and pathetic but it's the truth. 

fear has served many purposes for me over the years. but this fear i'm feeling now, it's the most fulfilling fear i've ever known. it is propelling me to do more, be more, see more. it's un-fucking-comfortable, at times it's desolate and lonely, other times i feel like it's the energy, the focus that i need. this change in the dynamic of fear in my life has really thrown me off center. i am accustomed to it serving one purpose only...holding me back from myself.

but guess what chicken butt (that one's for you, switch)? i'm fucking scared and i fucking love it. i have never been riddled with so much blinding fear in my entire life and yet i'm moving through it. how the hell is that even possible? me, pushing through it? granted, this past week i've been doing anything but facing the elephant in the middle of the room. i'm actually quite proud of how many distractions i have provided for myself. i do have a persuasive nature, even with myself. but it's time to shoot the fucking elephant and move on with it already.

so tonight, i'm enveloped with fear. the thought of my future, the future of my kids, the future of the people i love, failure as an artist, as a mom, as a woman. it has me emotional, edgy, contemplative, introspective and fucking fearful. and i've finally decided to use it for my benefit. damn, i had no idea i had this in me but now that i do, there's no looking back. i feel empowered with fear. i know your game and i'm taking you down like the ugly bastard fucking stepson you have become.

fear, consider yourself my bitch.

February 4....Neglect and Maintenance

Neglect and Maintenance

Current mood: bouncy




I am letting things go. Seems to be a recurring theme these days and it’s concerning me a great deal. Granted, letting things go is not a bad thing in theory or in practice if used in moderation. However, I am simply ignoring everything and that is no way to be productive. It's time for some maintenance.

Although I have pushed just about everything to the side including the state of my home, which looks like a tornado hit, I am neglecting myself the most. It’s not always a bad thing to let things go. Erma Bombeck once said something to the effect of “Cleanliness is in no way next to Godliness. I have never heard of anyone having a religious experience by scraping burned cheese from the inside of a toaster.” She makes an excellent, and funny, point. But this is out of control. I am a disaster area.

The thing that is really starting to get my goat is the fact that I just look like hell. All the time, pure unedited HELL!!!! I have a very sweet admirer who seems to think otherwise but frankly, I’m a little frightened when I see myself. For example; this morning I left the house in tattered jeans, didn’t take time to brush my hair, old t-shirt, sneakies with no socks and not a stitch of makeup on my very broken out skin and I went to both children’s schools, the bank and my head shrinker….all without caring how I must have looked, or smelled for that matter. By the way, the acne is incredibly frustrating for a 37 year old woman given that up until about 2 years ago had not one single pimple. As a teenager I had beautiful milky white skin with no blemishes at all. But as an adult, I look like a hormone crazed 15 year old….ok, so I act like one too but still, I am not amused.

Now this is no way to come across as someone who has it all together. In some ways that’s how I feel. Like I do have it all together but my god, I’m a frightening sight. And as vain as it may sound, it really, really bothers me. I’ve never been a beautiful woman straight out of bed in the morning and I’m really very low maintenance. I don’t dry my hair, I don’t iron my clothes, and it doesn’t take me an hour to get ready. I’m a granola and it shows. But somehow it’s become a neglectful situation and it’s feeding my insecurity.

The majority of the women in my family are incredibly vain. My aunt, my late Grandmother and my mother are all beautiful woman. Always well dressed, makeup, hair, jewelry, all of it wrapped neatly into little 5’2” frames, especially my Mom. She is well put together and confident. I remember as a kid wondering why mom never left the house without her hair perfectly coifed, her clothes beautiful pressed and well appointed. I thought it was vain, shallow and completely unnecessary. Why on earth couldn't she walk into her own driveway to pick up her paper without every hair in place? It was so irrational and really irritated me as a teenager.

But as an adult, I understand that it wasn’t a vanity issue per se but instead a choice. She chose to get up early, to make herself feel beautiful. For her it meant spending endless time getting her hair just right. It meant pressing every crease into her khakis. But it provided her with a springboard to feel that she could accomplish anything that day. That no matter what happened, where she went, what she did, she felt beautiful doing it. I can respect that and admire the fact that she spends time on herself and is unapologetic about the fact that it takes her over an hour to get ready.

I want to be that confident again. I’m not my mother and still refuse to dry my hair or iron my clothes. Hey, I can’t change the bohemian in me but just have to figure out how to make her look better. But I sure as hell can start taking a shower first thing, putting on fresh clothes that make me feel more attractive, start looking the way that I feel inside. And I do feel confident, desired, sexy. I would even go so far to say that I feel beautiful. Sometimes, not always, but I feel more beautiful than I have in my entire life. All in all, I’ve never been so comfortable in my own skin but somehow my skin looks like hell. It's time for a change.

So off I go this fine morning. I will start by taking a hot shower, putting on makeup somewhere other than in my car, make sure my clothes don’t smell of the night before and start my day. Maybe then I’ll feel a little more like conquering this hell hole of an apartment I’ve created. Damn, when did I become such a slob? So here’s to a better, more beautiful, more put together day. Feel like it’s gonna be a good one.