This is *not* the post I expected to put here. I was en route to the bathroom when I was stricken by a wonderful blog idea. Then I walked out of said bathroom, bumped into a friend of mine, and when we parted at his office, I had already forgotten my grand idea.
So instead, let’s talk about appearances, first impressions and identity.
I sometimes have difficulty wrapping my head around exactly who I am and how people view me. Whilst listening to the classic song “Pepper” by the Butthole Surfers I stopped to ponder the lines: “You never know just how you look/Through other peoples’ eyes.” And you truly don’t. It’s not that I am concerned about what people think – not necessarily – but I wonder what they DO think as they view me.
For one, I drive a Honda Element. A lot of folks tend to think of this as a “green” car or associate it with hippies. I don’t really consider myself all that nature friendly. I mean, I do my best to recycle and I take my reusable bags to Publix. But I don’t think hippie fits the bill. But add onto that rock climbing, which is definitely dominated by the hemp wearing/patchouli smelling crowd. SO, if I were to roll up to Railroad Square in my Element and get my boulder on, I could me lumped into the does-not-bathe/rolls a joint after a good climb category. Alas, I’m not.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, I am a mother. But when I look in the mirror, I don’t consider myself to look old enough nor dress classy enough to me a mom. OK OK, not all moms dress that way; I see a lot of mom jeans out there (pleats… ::shudder::) but I guess what I see doesn’t register as “mom.” And yet, I have a kid who is almost three and one who is two months today. Mommin’ is almost old hat by this point. I have a firm grasp on how to juggle a carseat, my keys, a grocery bag and a small grubby hand so that we can maneuver the parking lot at 5:30 PM and try not to get smooshed by frantic Panera patrons. Diaper blow-outs? No problem. I usually have some kind of wipe or cloth on me somewhere, if not there then in the console of the Element. My office has a few pictures; prime examples of the kids and their cuteness only. Nothing over the top, not too many gaudy frames or anything. I balance the kids’ pics with and equal amount of Batman and Married to the Sea comics.
Who would guess that a 31 year old mom, unassuming but not glaringly DORKY, would be a comic collector? If you were to get your hands on my thumb drive, the collection of images would astound you. Most of them are pictures from comics that I have collected over the past couple years. Mostly Batman, mostly pics of my favorite characters, and some fan art. However, this is juxtaposed with pictures I have taken of random things like contrails in the sky, my burger at lunch, and my children. Oh, and vamipres.
So another aspect of me is that I totally fell into the pop culture phenomenon that has resurrected itself lately. I remember in the early 90s when Anne Rice stuff conjured a following but now, god, everyone is into vamps. True Blood, Vampire Diaries… Twilight for Pete’s sake. I wrote about it some on here but Lord knows I never meant to EVER read a romance novel, let alone of the paranormal persuasion. Is this what happens when you become a mom in your thirties, or what? At first, I was self-conscious about this but now, I can walk right into that romance section at Borders without so much as a sideways glance. I have learned to accept the truth.
Truth is, everyone is so much more than their outward appearance or their car or their job. Still, I don’t know if I can even define myself in just a few words. Any time I set up a blog or something similar and it has the “about me” box, I pretty much just end up spewing all the odds and ends about myself there, hoping they come together to form some kind of semblance of my whole package.
So, how do you see yourself? What aspects of your appearance are deceiving to who you really are or think you are?
I think people who don’t really know me think I am a super laid back person. Wouldn’t say I am uptight, but I am def not relaxed all of the time. Also, I wonder if people think differntly of me once they find out how obsessed I am with all things fiber related. I mean, what kind of person can talk about yarn and fabric for hours? π
I think the cool thing about getting older is becoming more comfortable in your own skin. For the most part, I could care less what other people think about me. The only time I do care is when someone passes judgement on me for no reason. That’s just not cool π
Somedays I am totally taken back by the fact that I am a Mommy. When did I grow up? And for the record, I wouldn’t be caught dead in “Mom Jeans” either.