Monday, May 3, 2010

We were ring around the rosy children

In a fairly innocuous episode of Sex and the City, our fearless stiletto-ed leader leaves us with one of her trademark deep thoughts:

"I will never be the woman with the perfect hair, who can wear white and not spill on it."

Viewers everywhere nodded in solidarity, as we took note that even Carrie (who can and does whatever she wants) wasn't infallible.

Yesterday on my way to a date with the BF that was to include salmon burgers and watching Damages, I had to turn around 5 miles into my 20 mile trek because I realized I’d forgotten... Damages. And the salmon burgers.

When I got to his house I tripped up the (very steep!) stairs and he heard me mutter an expletive before he could see me. Then I almost cut my finger off while I was slicing tomatoes.

This morning as I was heading out of his house, I was mostly just grateful to be alive. And to still have a boyfriend. Then...

“Uh, G?” I heard as I turned to walk out the front door. His voice was a mix of amusement and slight concern.

“Yes??”

“Do you want me to take the tag off your sweater?”

I shuffled back in shame, and he gently held one corner of the fabric tag while tugging the plastic one off my new cardigan.

One of the perks of dating your best friend whom you have known since you had a spiral perm and baby teeth, is that they’ve probably seen you looking and doing worse than anything you can manage as an adult. I’m dating that person. It’s a blessing, because he knows I’m a disaster and likes me anyway. It's a curse because I can’t prove otherwise no matter how hard I try. There’s nearly 20 years of precedent leading into this relationship. Even if I successfully wore an all-white outfit while milking a herd of cattle in a windstorm, I’d still be the girl who faceplanted twice in one recess period.

And that's probably okay. As long as I'm living a life where a gasoline spray to the eye is just a typical Wednesday, I might as well live it alongside someone who finds my stories endearing. And par for the course.

3 comments:

Teresa said...

1. I want a photo of you with a spiral perm.

2. How many cardigans do you own?

3. I would pay you don't even KNOW how much money to see you milk cattle. You don't even need to be wearing all white.

Gina Marie said...

1. They are posted generously around my parent's house. Please come check them out any time. We'll drink Bailey's and complain about how we only got to experience the 80's as pre-kindergarteners.

2. This question seems to infer that you can own too many cardigans, which is blasphemy to me, and to The Gap. Also this one is your signature royal blue so shut it. Last, how many royal blue pieces of clothing do you own?

3. I was practically a cattle-milking prodigy back in the day. Probably around the same time of the infamous perm, actually.

4. Your comments make you look like you didn't have a nervous breakdown yesterday. Way to be!

Shannon Clattenburg said...

1. I routinely wish I got to experience more of the 80's than stretch armstrong and curly shoelaces.

2. I live for dear Carrie's thoughts at the end of every episode. They make me feel better about myself.

3. This was an excellent written post, and I loved reading it! Thanks for your awesome stories!