see? blue cast. photoshop fail.
Today I received a mini lecture about a homework folder. I’m sure it was as simple as “Mowgli didn’t bring his folder to school today,” but I only heard: “You are a failure as a mother, and your children are destined to become even more terrible failures than you, thanks to your parenting ineptitude.”
When I got home, there was mascara all over my face.
Now, granted, it is a new moon today, plus, nature is just about as dark as she gets right now. And however skeptical you might be about nature’s effects on the soul, the new moon does at least have physical implications for me. (read: P. M. fucking. S.)
Anyway. I came home—drippy mascara, hungry kids, and all; and went online to place another photo order. While the order was uploading, I (surprise!) went on to facebook, where a friend admitted to having a bad day. It was a simple, honest sentence, but was more comforting to me, in that ridiculously depressive moment, than any other words or actions could have been. Beyond support, advice, or sympathy, it sometimes is just nice to know that you’re not alone.
I know. I know how obnoxiously weepy and sappy and whiny that sounds if your life is perfect and you are never sad. (Seriously? Your life is perfect, and you are never sad? Wow. Bitch.) But for those of us humans, we actually find great comfort and connection in one another’s imperfections. It’s true, isn’t it? Don’t you feel closer to a person once you’ve seen their soft underbelly, their endearing (and not so endearing) flaws, their mistakes and secrets? Or worse, their mundane?
So why in the world do we try so desperately to hide those things? We flaunt what ”should” be flaunted, and hide what “should” be hidden (including our sadness). And then we, wearing mascara and perfection, disconnect.
I had a similar conversation with a friend the other day, and she remarked on what a vicious cycle it is: the attempt to connect by appropriately flaunting and hiding and fitting into stereotypes, which, in turn, only causes more loneliness. Counterproductive.
I was feeling all smug and non-people-pleasy then, like, psssh. glad i’m not like that. pssssh.
Until I thought about what it would be like to meet, in person, some friends I know only through this here electronic device. And it made me feel socially anxious–a feeling I am not at all familiar with. I realized that this is totally different than the normal way of getting to know someone. You people know me at my most manic depressive. I flash my soul here, in words and pictures and drawings like I would never do over a casual cuppa, yet you would not even recognize me in passing.
Someone directed me to this post by Jen Lee that says it perfectly. “Being new friends is sometimes about breaking the bad news to each other.” My confession, my soft underbelly (no pun intended), is more about how normal and relatively boring I actually am. And so, without further ado, I’m breaking the bad news, a few of my horrifyingly mundane attributes:
(these will not be making it to the christmas cards.)
~ I have ugly feet. I mean, who doesn’t have ugly feet? But apparently, mine are even that much uglier.
~ My dreadlocks really have nothing at all to do with a spiritual journey. It’s just another hairstyle.
~ I have really short, stubby fingers. Bad for arpeggios, good for trills.
~ In a matter of minutes, I can be all three of these things: extremely happy, painfully sad, and completely apathetic. Quite frequently, actually, this is the case. (Did you know that already?)
~ Currently, my comfortable jeans are a size 12. And I have neither ambition nor desire to change that fact. I’m fine with it, but if exercise and dietary discipline are virtues, then fat is a fault.
~ I’m not terribly good at photoshop (obviously?). AND I use (prepare yourselves, photographers!!!) Photoshop Elements.
~ I don’t wear sunscreen because I like how I look with a tan.
~ I am likely the messiest person you’ll ever know. Seriously. (Tell ‘em, real life friends.)
~ I live in the most standard ranch house ever. And I don’t. Have. Anything. Hanging. On. My. Walls. (except something I will tell you about later.)
~ I don’t at all take care of things like DVDs (Hi, Jessica!), TVs, laptops, carpets, . . . oh, anything really. I don’t take care of material things.
~ I was the homecoming queen.
~ I don’t send Christmas cards.
I was homecoming queen too. Except I didn’t go because Doug asked Laurie and I went out for Sushi with Jane instead since it was her 18th birthday. That’s the bad news. The good news is that Doug joined the Marines and was never heard from again and I lived happily ever after. I’m SO glad I got that off my chest…
if you could make that emoticon go away that’d be great. WTF! sorry for defiling your blog.
Pssssh. No emoticons here! Psshhh!
If only we knew all of the real horror show details lurking behind the blog photos! The good news is I had a terribly shitty SHIT.TEEE. day today and the good news is you did too and now I don’t feel so bad. See how it all works out?
xoxo
Terri, I think you and I were destined to be sisters in another life. No, seriously. I agree and am also all of those numbers (except for the homecoming queen part, oh and the sunscreen part but that’s just a Florida thing).
After meeting a bunch of online friends in Vegas last month I have to totally agree with what you’ve said here. I’ve known these women for four years and yet – and yet, I think we were all still a bit surprised by each other.
Glad my post could help you with your yucky day. I’ve always appreciated that your blog isn’t one of those happy shiny ones in which we only share the good parts of our lives. It’s refreshing to hear what I constantly think in my head written out for everyone to see. *smooches*
Love your honesty! Wish there were more chicks like you. So sick of the “my life is perfect” talks. Come on, let’s get real! Glad to see your human like me:)
Laughing and well’d up… <3 u your mess ect. and FUCK skinny jeans anyways;)
Well, being the person that you got “ugly feet” & “messiness” from…
And I’ve known messier, just sayin’.
I still can not believe that you had mascara on!
Oh, Jodi, I want her to be my sister too. That okay?
I’d send you pictures of my messy house but you would be scared. NO, really scared.
And nothing on the walls? Um, yeah.
love, love, love, love, love.
I need more friends like you!
it’s all good, don’t you worry.
my toes are missing a bone in each of them. i bet my feet are if not uglier, at least more odd than yours.
I so needed to read this today of all days. You have a way with words and I’m so glad I’m not the only one who feels like a terrible mother or who has a messy house.
Thank you!!
I love this blog. And my husband often comments on my ugly “special” feet.
i.love.you. i love your blog. i love how you make it real.
what a great post.. ( not that I am happy that you had a bad day ) just that you are so real. I found your blog through Deb S’s and Love it.. will be back
you are such a darling. this is adorable….homecoming queen
oh shoot…i forget these blogs do those little smiley face things. i must confess…do not like the little smiley face things.
sorry all you sister WANNABIES… i am the only REAL one… so there.
and terri, thank you for this! i needed this today…. in a bad, bad way. i was going to clean up a little before bed, but psssssh. who cares? i like sleeping better. wait, maybe i’ll do some christmas cards… pssssh… nah. xoxo
oh my gracious i love you all so very much.
last night as i was sitting in a weepy mess, i realized too that this is the darkest, darkest, darkest time of the year and sky… of course i’m a mess. thank you for this, so often we (women especially) live in isolated cells of perfection, unwilling to bust out pretending we have perfect lives in order to see that no one else is perfect either. thanks for keeping it real. ;-D
sharing our dark secrets to bring light to each other in this darkest time of the year – I knew there was a reason I stopped in. I’m a virtual sister with nothing on the walls (I can’t commit to anything) and fat feet in a house where nothing matches or coordinates. That’s okay though – since when is life meant to be all matchy matchy and neat.