To Mine Own Self Be True

Having made no 2012 resolutions, I have decided on one thing. I will be truer to myself. I will conform less, ignore the dictates of fashion more, I will worry less about what people think of my clothes, my hair, my style. I have long been known for my shoes. Unconventional, adorable, little shoes for my little feet. Most of my shoes and boots come from the kid's department, especially my sneakers. Now, I'm not saying I'll start dressing like a child, although I do own several pair of white ruffled ankle socks. I'm saying I will stop limiting my "style" to footwear and designer handbags and start incorporating more of the pieces I love into a signature look. Layers, patterns, prints, ruffles, scarves. Pink, lavender, more pink. Vintage pieces, flowing pieces, maybe some lace. Vintage gloves!
Last year, when I started to tie a fancy handkerchief or small scarf around the strap of my handbag, people asked me why. Because I can, and because it's pretty! I'd like a tiny nose piercing, but can't have one at work. I want a streak of a crazy color in my hair, just a little touch of it in the front. I recently started wearing red lipsticks more, true reds and orange reds. I was never quite sure I could carry off the boldness of it, but suddenly now it seems right. I'm going to have more fun with fashion, jewelry and accessories. The only one I have to "dress to impress" is me.

I am not the answer to everything.

This will be a rant. Short and purposeful. I do not have all the answers. I barely have any. Today, for the third time in a week, my husband asked me where HIS alarm clock was. I don't know, I sez for the third time. I have two alarm clocks, I don't use yours, it's wherever you left it. No, he insists, you did something with it. I always leave it in the same place, it's not there. I DON'T KNOW I snap. He leaves the room, I go to his side of the bed, look under it, and lo and behold, there it is. He asks where his ties are, where his blue suspenders are. Gee, last time I wore your tie......
The uterus is not a tracking device. I don't know, I don't have to know, and I like not knowing. I don't know anything, I am just as helpless and dumb as you. Dumber, even. I am not, and have not the answer to everything. And whoever told you I do is wrong. Insert Samuel L Jackson voice here: I don't know a goddamned thing.
The End.