There is no sexy or graceful way to pick up a dropped tupperware container that once housed mashed potatoes. I dropped mine on my way out of the door in the work parking lot yesterday. It made the lovely, loud sound of plastic slapping against asphalt, and caused the smoke-breakers on the patio to turn around and stare at me. “Nothing to see here people!” and I bend over in my dress to retrieve it. I meant to do that! 🙂
There is also no sexy or graceful way to walk in beach sand. Why is a walk on the beach considered so romantic when you feel like you are having a seizure with each step? It’s not real life….the leisurely stroll hand in hand, the sun setting behind us as we think about getting jiggy with it later on that night…..it just isn’t. Unless you are this girl…and weigh 17 pounds.
I have no desire to go back and be 22 again. Well, that’s not 100% true. If I knew then what I know now? Heck yes! However, I am a no regret girl, so there is no sense in thinking in those terms.
“Never regret anything you have done with a sincere affection; nothing is lost that is born of the heart.”
Yes! No more truer words were ever spoken. The weddings, divorces, births, and deaths. The lost friendships, the broken hearts, the moments of trust and the moments of divine intervention and humanity. They are the sum of my parts. I’m not the girl in that photo. I am this girl….
I’m not tall and slender, and I will never be a ballerina, and that’s really ok. I will fumble sweetly on my beach walks, and I will drop things, and I will continue to trip on flat surfaces. My favorite movie is Super Troopers, followed closely by Tombstone. I cry at ASPCA commercials. I can’t sew. I make super good cookies. I can change my own windshield wiper blades but I can’t hang a curtain rod straight. I love salsa on my eggs but I hate tomatoes in them. I spend my entire work day helping and trying to make everyone happy. I am entitled to walk out of the back door and drop my Tupperware! 🙂
Mmmmm…such a sweet transvestite! This is a real dude who does parties….love it.
We do not choose to be born. We do not choose our parents. We do not choose our
historical epoch, the country of our birth, or the immediate circumstances of
our upbringing. We do not, most of us, choose to die; nor do we choose the time
and conditions of our death. But within this realm of choicelessness, we do
choose how we live.