Two ends to every rainbow.
(I don't like today's picture, but here is is anyway if you wanna see it. Otherwise, you get something that has nothing to do with today.)
When I was little, I wanted to be Barbie.
I guess this requires a little explanation
Think about it. I'm a short, not-skinny, brown girl with frizzy-wild hair. Barbie isn't. If she were real, she'd probably be tall. She's got long blonde hair, blue painted-on eyes and that pink convertable, and all of those clothes and friends and shoes. Nevermind that she's ill-proportioned. Nevermind that her feet are too small and that she'd topple over if made to stand on her own, or that her knees don't bend well, or that that she can't seem to keep a job, or that her relationship with Ken is annoyingly ambiguous.
She's everything I'm not (and will never be for various reasons). And we want what we don't have, don't we? Greener grass and eating cake and all that.
So, when I was little, I wanted to be Barbie.
And sometimes I forget that's not what I want anymore.