self – marginalia and such

On turning 29

… or being almost 30.

I meant to make a nice post about goals and aspirations and all the things I’ve done this year, but decided to do what I do best and make a list:

I have two novels in the works that I’m sort of mostly happy with… they need work, but the flesh is there. That is more than I ever imagined I would write in a single year.
I have made some serious changes to my general state of well-being by focusing on healthy habits and going clean inside and out.
I have become a runner. I can own that label now in my own way.
I feel comfortable in my own skin.
My hair is long(ish)! I never thought I’d let it go for so long, but I have managed to resist the urge to snip.
I have vacationed on my own…
And learned to live on my own.
I think of myself as a professional in my field… I’ve even started craving more presentation face-time.
I sold myself to my phone. I’m okay with that.

and I have a boy in my life who brings me nerdcakes.

Yes, I am. Every year, I go into a fashion and makeup slump. It tends to happen right around the time that things get hectic with work and life (ie. holiday and/or finals time), and I end up letting go of any sense of fashion. But I’m frump girl no more! At least, until the next mad season. Today, I will rock the red lipstick and patterned dress look. And I will pretend that I am not about to fall over from lack of sleep.

self-conscious musings

I’ve reached an age where I feel comfortable with my looks. Unless I am trying on some hopelessly skimpy outfit, which always makes me cringe with self-doubt. I really do think that I “came into my looks” when I was 23. Yes, I can pinpoint it to the year! It was when I started to feel fashionably put together, a feeling I lacked throughout my tweens and teens. However, there are some things I’ve learned about myself in my twenties.

I will never ever be a dainty girl. I may be fit, but I will never qualify as dainty. Ain’t no way, ain’t no how. I’m much too strong in the wrists to be defined as dainty.

I do not look like most girls… most especially, not like most girls in Miami. I would say I look the way most girls looked in the late 40s and early 50s. I have a face from another time. Talk about melodramatic :p .

I will always be 5lbs away from what I think I should weigh. There’s a lot more to this than I care to think about.

I have too many imperfections to count and yet I have a wonderful person who does not seem to notice them.

I really do look better as a brunette. My dreams of being a red-head never quite work out as planned.

I have my father’s toes; they’re all curvy.

I want to age with grace, but I will never be the girl who looks perfectly coiffed.

So it goes.