Do you ever look in the mirror. stare at yourself. and wonder –
Is this the person I am going to be for the rest of my life?
Is this how I’m going to look throughout my 20’s and settle into for my 30’s?
Is this me??
That’s what I was doing June 9, 2015.
I have a round face, but not really. It’s actually pretty square because my jaw (for some reason) has convinced itself that it has to overcompensate and now competes for “Biggest Mandible of The Year Award” with Buzz Lightyear.
But anyways – no – my face is round because I’m ten pounds overweight. Give or take five, but mostly give. And the honor for that accomplishment goes to an insatiable appetite for Panera Mac’nCheese, cinnamon rolls, mashed potatoes, Honeybuns, Reese’s Cups (pronounced “Ree-says” NOT “Ree-seize” who are these people who say “Ree-seize”??) pizza, grilled cheese, anything cheese honestly – we will be here forever if I continue the list of foods I can’t say no to.
I have eyes, that tell no lies. They are bright despite being the darkest burnt raw sienna umber (feel free to add to the list of Crayola “browns” you can remember) imaginable.
My eyebrows are not kept. And one of them, my furry, stubborn friend on the left begins with a half centimeter patch that does whatever it wants. Literally. This group of hairs is the 1%. They stick straight up, spines erect, and do not bend with the curve of my arch. (We should all be jealous of their “stand out from the crowd” attitude). Because they do not care. And does that bother me? Yes, on the occasion. Would I like to have Anastasia Beverly Hills level eyebrows? Sure (actually maybe not, there is so much work that goes into it!! so many products, oh my good god, I never knew there were so many tools and gels and powders..look at the website. overwhelming). But do I care? No, not really. Like the koala (my favorite animal), I reserve most of my energy for eating. To allocate any time of my day to fretting over the reckless situation of my eyebrows would deplete me of all my precious glucose.
Although serving one of the less important functions of my body (my apologies to any otolaryngologists reading this), my nose is trés obnoxious. It sits in the middle of my face and takes up probably 50%. Also, its pores are ridiculously huge – or maybe it’s just me. My nose is the clearest giveaway that I am half “black”, ya know like the yin-yang symbol. Take that how you will.
And finally my mouth. Well let’s just say it’s my nose’s twin brother. It is also huge. It is strong, triumphant, proud. Connected to my aforementioned jaw, it is capable of chomping through steel. It cannot be stopped! Take that Buzz. (ok, maybe it’s not that serious – but still) My lips are pink. I appreciate their subtlety. Basic. And my chin floats right beneath – nothing notable to mention about Mr. Chin. The one nice thing about my round, square, strong jaw and huge mouth combination is that when their forces join together for a smile – I get 100 bajillion Power Points. K.O. My secret move. My pinch of pixie dust. The ultimate Super Mario Brothers Final Smash Attack. My smile, I’ve been told, will one day stop World War III. (No, I wasn’t told that at all. I have no knowledge or secret intelligence on a possible World War III. This is humor. @NationalSecurityCouncil).
I would say I’m on the lesser side of superficial. I care little for appearance – only when it really matters. Of course, that’s another whole conversation, isn’t it? I am confident. I know I look good (despite all the criticism I just gave myself). But – I only know that because of other people’s perceptions. Because of the compliments strangers decide to tell me. Not because I think I’m the most gorgeous giraffe roaming the African savanna. Truthfully, I think I am normal. And normal is ok with me.
Why do I write all this? Pure entertainment. This. Everything I’ve just stated is literally my train of thought. And the ensuing blog posts will more or less follow this theme of pondering life, asking questions, attempting to answer those questions, and confronting the bitter and mysterious realities of our existence here on planet Earth – as I perceive them to be.
Now, back to the main event:
I am confident more so because I know myself. Or at least I think I know myself. (And that’s all that matters right?) I know that I am strong, mentally greater than physically. (Although, my legs are quite muscular. My body could be compared to that of the T-Rex: wimpy, pathetic arms, atop towering, monstrous, thighs and delectable calves). I know that I am witty, and if forced to keep up a conversation, I can do that. I am not fake (but would a fake person know they are fake? Probably not. So you’re going to have to take my word for it. We’ll pursue the issue of being fake in a later post.) If I do not like you I will not be cruel, but I will also not give you any pretense of a future of friendship. And that is not being mean, that is being honest. There is a difference. I am easily distracted – if you couldn’t tell that already. I like many things, and it takes almost nothing for me to be amused. But it takes almost everything for me to truly smile. Along with being easily distracted, I am easily restless. After being inside for too long I grow solemn. Anywhere outside is better than somewhere enclosed. Wind and the sun make me feel alive. Along with the restlessness and being easily distracted, I change my mind like a kid in a candy store. (By the way, clichés make me barf). Which is why my two biggest fears are the unknown and any legitimate commitment. (Funnily enough, although these are my two biggest fears – they are also two of my greatest fascinations). Also, I think you should know I probably won’t finish whatever this is. I don’t even know what this is, but you’ll probably hit a dead end at some point. So don’t look forward to an end.
I am 90% proud of myself. Still working on accepting the other 10% of my life that are mistakes. Or are they? Nah. I am kind. I am holistic. I love animals. I do not eat them (at least not the ones that I can see a personality in. So, yes this is me admitting that I eat seafood occasionally because I simply can’t connect to a fish like I can to a cow. This is also me recognizing that this makes me a hypocrite. Ok, great, now we can move on. But! For the record, I rarely eat seafood…anyways). I enjoy music, playing and listening. Books are my friends. And I only keep a few close ones. Friends, that is. If I lived alone for the rest of my life I would probably be ok (this subject will also be approached later in a post most likely to be called “Chelsea Handler“).
A lot of things confuse me. Like relationships. Everything about them. Why do we get into them? Why do we stay in them, even through the bad times? How is it possible that we can learn to love a stranger like they’re blood? Why do we open ourselves up to the possibility of heartbreak? It’s exhausting just thinking about it. Again. To be pursued later.
Anyways. This has been fun.
I would love to interact with you – Stranger, who is reading this. Friend, family member, whoever is reading this. Feel free to comment. To respond. To post your answer to any of my theoretical questions posed. My only request – Be genuine. Please.
Not sure how to end this now, so bye.
Wait! (P.S. Just thought you should know, I’m 20 years old and in college). Ok, now bye.