I'm fickle. A human kaleidoscope.
Dark? Light? Mysterious? Moody? Suzy Sunshine? I feel so blogpolar. Looking in the rear view mirror of life. Left foot on the pedal. Right foot on the brake. Electric insomnia is over and all I want to do is sleep. Maybe it's just post-traumatic peace globe syndrome. Meanwhile, my blog needs a makeover. A sidebar lift. A blogroll tuck. ...but all I really want to do is find a nice warm spot on the couch.
My mother used to say, as my aunt teased my hair (back in the day) and attempted to pluck my tender eyebrows, "Sit still! You have to suffer to be beautiful." Somehow I don't think this is what she had in mind.
My blog is becoming a mirror of me. Oh lucky you. You get to witness my blanity playing hide-n-seek. (That's blog + vanity for all you non-blog speakers.) What's even more disturbing is that I've discovered just how "normal" this is for me. I change my clothes more often than OJ changes his story. "Oh! I feel like leggings and a plaid skirt this morning!" Then I think of Pippi Longstockings and I just can't do it.
Cher comes to mind. Thirty-six inch dangling ear bobbles and 12-inch heels would look very nice disguised in a long Joni Mitchell skirt from the sixties. I'll bring my guitar! Then I remember I'm afraid of heights. And I don't have a guitar.
Ten minutes til out-the-door and I'm searching for my bracelet and the other boot I decided to change into. I can apply lip liner, eyeliner and moisturizer with one hand and blow dry my hair with the other.
Lipstick does not frighten me. All colors go on - and off - just as quickly as the color code switches in my mental fill-in-the-blank palette. Gauchos morph into pencil skirts and I routinely find more matching shoes in the backseat of my car than in my closet. I'm famous for wearing gently mismatched socks to work. It's dark for Heaven's sake. If God intended for socks to match He would have joined our feet.
Gloss is my friend. Coffee stains do not mess with me. Nail polish dries in exactly the amount of time it takes to type a short email with the end of a pencil. It's a gift.
Mimi morphing is nothing new to me, folks. Change - and the intrinsic primping that follows - is always on the horizon in my life. I've been known to change clothes - and accidentally change direction - in the car. Rear view mirrors are the perfect size for puckering, batting your eyes at a backseat passenger or eyeshadow inspection. Rehearsing your 'pitiful look' a split second before the Officer asks for your powder stained driver's license. But all mornings aren't nearly as productive as this.
And then there are the post-peace-globe-traumatic dreams.....that affect my day. The length of my skirt is of equal proportion to the amount of sleep I got the night before. Short skirts for that tossy-turny feeling. Knee boots for go-go dancing dreams. (Don't ask) Ankle boots for those run-for-your-life chasin' nightmares and mid-length "church dresses" if I'm feeling emotional and confessional. Not all is fun and closet games. I can be serious you know!!
There are several platitudes, beatitudes and attitudes posted on my bathroom mirror. I need inspiration in the mornings. Behold.
"Alarm clocks are from Satan."
"Matching nails are in direct proportion to the symmetrical size of your brain."
"When God closes one door, He always reminds Mimi where she put her keys."
"Beauty is in the eye of the Maybelline tube."
You may not be able to find your socks but remember what Confucius say - "Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it." Gee thanks, Confu.
Not to be outdone by D.H. Lawrence (who was a tad confused himself) who wrote, "The human soul needs actual beauty more than bread" - which gives me permission to do my best to scrape a little inspiration for mankind out of the bottom of the lipstick tube everyday - trying to find actual beauty.
I know where my priorities lie.
Enough prissy silliness for one post. I'll be serious.
'Cause now I'm looking in the rear view.........and the view is a whirlwind of change in a very short amount of time. Some bitterly low. Other memories full of joy.
Life is so very very good. Because embracing change - no matter how wrenching the process - is always healthy.
Have you ever sensed that you were on the verge of a revelation? And you needed to just S.T.O.P. and L.I.S.T.E.N?
That's how I feel today.
Each time a BlogBlast ends I find myself brooding around the castle like Edgar Allan Poe searching for his Annabelle Lee. Peaceful. But prone to ruminate.
No plans to hatch. No deadlines to meet. No midnight epiphanies. OH MY WORD the SILENCE is DEAFENING. So I morph. And slip into transitional gear. And get all philosophical.
Oh lucky you.
Find out who - after two years of blogging and tumbling through some personal pitfalls and mountaintop moments - is staring back at me.
And which direction she wants to go.
See you in a few.