Hunh...
So tonight I was idoly rumenating on an old memory of mine. Back when I was about seventeen, dressing up so carefully to see this girl I had a crush on. We went to her church that night to study the bible... I got out of religion when I was 14 didn't I? But old habbits die hard... She would have been my last crush before I had my first real relationship when I turned 19... anyways, I digress... I was just thinkin' about how I'd been so careful in my selection of attire- slacks, dress shoes which I actually borrowed my Papa's shoe polish for, simple shirt with a bulky sweater (by this point I no longer owned a suit) combed my hair just right, pepermint for my breath... est est... so I was just thinking how funny it is that in the midst of my most severe depression I was still playing the part to the hilt. I was quite the young gentleman. (I won't say handsome 'cause I was always the geeky kid) I was thinking how strange it was that I have this memory with a dual set of feelings. On the one hand it's a somewhat treasured child hood memory. Where you smile and shake your head at the kid you were but with a fondness for that moment, living that crush, living that right of passage... but at the thought of right of passage my thoughts return to the other emotion that was present that night at the church. "This is wrong, what the hell am I doing. I can't be what she wants if if she wanted me which she doesn't. I should have put on a nice dress and make-up to go to church. My right of passage should have been opposite with the nice youg gentleman accompanying me... " of course then my thoughts turn to the fact that I still like girls and that just confuses the issue further, I mean, even if I was born a "normal" girl would I still would have been a lesbian so perhaps all of these mixed up feelings are moot anyways... but I digress again because when I reminise [sp?] each thought leads to the next faster than I can type it...
So the reason I just had to write is because I had this sudden shocking realization that I just had to write down. The sweater, the slacks, the shoes... even the underclothes... purchased for me by my grandmother when I was 17 years old! Just shy of adult and I wasn't picking out my clothes! THIS is shocking me 'cause I DIDN'T REALIZE IT! My entire life others purchased my clothes for me aside from the odd t-shirt with favorite cartoon character nothing I ever wore was my own choice. I just did it 'cause I couldn't think how to object. I had no interest, desire, or perhaps even ability to pick out men's clothing... The first thing I ever actually bought for myself was a pair of baby blue pajamas that say princess on the side and an extremely frilly pink tank top that I wouldn't be caught dead in now (which is rather funny when I think about it) Cait ordered them for me out of one of her clothing catalogs. OH! and the panties that said FLIRT across the posterior section! -Can't forget thoses *blushing* so anyways 19 was the first time I picked out my own clothes! Freaky I never noticed before.
Well it's time to go now because the subject of clothing and milestones has me thinking about Cait's prom in which I dressed as the perfect gentleman... That should have been a wonderful milestone, going to the prom with the then love of my life, but as much as I treasure the memories of that night I'll always be bitter that I didn't get to dress in the most exquisite dress. Our picture of that night, although cute and "warm fuzzy" and all will always be bittersweet to me. ack, random 2 AM thoughts.
juxtaposition
paradox
my whole life exists in duality...
So the reason I just had to write is because I had this sudden shocking realization that I just had to write down. The sweater, the slacks, the shoes... even the underclothes... purchased for me by my grandmother when I was 17 years old! Just shy of adult and I wasn't picking out my clothes! THIS is shocking me 'cause I DIDN'T REALIZE IT! My entire life others purchased my clothes for me aside from the odd t-shirt with favorite cartoon character nothing I ever wore was my own choice. I just did it 'cause I couldn't think how to object. I had no interest, desire, or perhaps even ability to pick out men's clothing... The first thing I ever actually bought for myself was a pair of baby blue pajamas that say princess on the side and an extremely frilly pink tank top that I wouldn't be caught dead in now (which is rather funny when I think about it) Cait ordered them for me out of one of her clothing catalogs. OH! and the panties that said FLIRT across the posterior section! -Can't forget thoses *blushing* so anyways 19 was the first time I picked out my own clothes! Freaky I never noticed before.
Well it's time to go now because the subject of clothing and milestones has me thinking about Cait's prom in which I dressed as the perfect gentleman... That should have been a wonderful milestone, going to the prom with the then love of my life, but as much as I treasure the memories of that night I'll always be bitter that I didn't get to dress in the most exquisite dress. Our picture of that night, although cute and "warm fuzzy" and all will always be bittersweet to me. ack, random 2 AM thoughts.
juxtaposition
paradox
my whole life exists in duality...