Thursday, July 19, 2012
Big Red Swimsuit
Beth Carver paints the most beautiful swimming women. Gumbo Lily shared about her last year (or maybe the year before) and I've loved her paintings ever since!
Yesterday, I tried on a big red swimsuit at a department store. What was I thinking? First of all, the dressing rooms were full (I should have heeded this warning and refrained from exposing myself to the monster mirrors inside). Nothing shakes one's confidence like swim suit truth. Seriously, I wanted to click my heels together three times and BE home. When I walked into our house I felt cozy relief and accepting love, that safety that comes when you are fully clothed. When you go shopping for clothing, do you feel suddenly attached to your own familiar garments? I do. They fit. I try on a few things and then take comfort in the clothes I had on, deciding that I like them more than I did a few moments ago. They give hope. I believe in school uniforms because they are a good equalizer and they tend to prevent a lot of "personal appearance angst" with girls especially. When I was at a Christian women's conference a few weeks ago, I noticed that everyone around my age had on capri pants, similar comfortable shoes and nondescript knit shirts or blouses. That's a uniform, isn't it? I've always thought nuns looked very pretty in their look alike outfits.
Kelli invited me to join her for a manicure and pedicure today and I looked around at the feet near me. Old feet, young feet. All fairly unsightly because let's face it, cute feet are rare. But all this to say: I worry about dumb things. I need to get out more.
My eyelid is healing up nicely, thank you! Fitting all my medical appointments in a two week period wasn't all that smart. I think I'm shyer than I thought I was. All the waiting room, blood drawing, breast screening (yikes!) and "filling out forms" business IS NOT FUN and made me nervous, very nervous. I know. Weird. One more appointment to go. The dermatologist. I like him. He is so speedy at removing unnecessary (ahem) things and for some reason I am not one bit shy about letting him check out the battle scars of aging all over my freckled skin. And there you have it. I have nothing more exciting to share than my boring old personal business. Thanks for reading.