Late to the Party, as Usual

Awww, Corey? I always thought I was more of a Deb...You know, screw it all, shave the head (hair is in the sink if you want to glue it), oh wait, no, I didn't really try to kill myself, just wanted the attention...Yeah, complex but not so. You know, the tomboy who sometimes wears pink, the otherwise “normal-looking” girl with the purple hair, the bookish child grown to an introverted teenager who suddenly jumped out into the world one day and yelled “Look at me!”

Mother once told me that I wouldn’t make it on my looks alone and I wondered, “What looks?” I still see the too-thin girl with dark eyes too big for the face and constellations of freckles across her nose. My hair will never be longer than my chin because I hate it. Right now it’s the regular brown, but I have that hair-dyeing itch again. I was anorexic but I don’t think I am anymore. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell. Life tends to be like that. I can give or take food, but I do eat. Sometimes, I even get hungry.

So, me…Who is me? A sort of twisted sense of humor; I’m the girl in the room who is quiet during the jokes and snickers at inappropriate times. I know how to use my grammar, but sometimes I prefer to not. Mom says I could read before the age of 4, but my real love is dance – and if one more person makes a stripper comment…Ok, so I have a sense of humor about that. But no, not the adult kind of dance. Sorry, boys.

So, I majored in dance and also English, but then I decided to get married and have kids, a choice that I’m glad I made. Most of the time I’m happily married. So now I’m back in school, but not dancing. Juggling school, work, and family, is an interesting prospect to say the least. Oh, and I’ve just been diagnosed with clinical depression. Surprise! But I’ve managed to keep my head above the water and I’m doing much better than I was. Hey, I’m here, I’m awake and out of bed, and that counts for something.

So, who am I really? I guess I’ll find out right along with everyone else. The road goes on forever and the party never ends, right?

Now I have to go. Mr. Christie is begging for attention and my dog is begging to be fed. If the road doesn’t go on, at least life does. Thank Goodness for that.