Confession time, lovers. (Yes, again. So predictable.)
I could care less about labels.
It's not a very shocking admission, after all the exposition I've shared on my immature love of Forever 21, and considering how many people in the world don't give a crap either way who designed what you're wearing. But I feel like, being a blogger who could be considered "fashion oriented", it is somewhat outside the norm. But I don't really focus much on fashion as I did in the beginning. And I've never really known much about the industry.
Personally, I go more for comfort or what attracts me. Since I have a tendency towards the quirky and magpie, with the wallet of a match girl, my exposure to designers is from gossip rags or the rare Ebay find. Yesterday was a girl's day with mom, shopping in Orlando. When we went into the Gucci store, I felt like an intruder in my DF shirt and UO jeans. Yes, I could appreciate the beauty of the bags, scarves, and shoes, but I didn't have a feeling to save up the money to possess the beautiful pieces. They do not fit into my lifestyle.
And that's ok.
(Also, Marilyn in the Orlando/Kissimme area, your vehicle is ready at Oberry's. And the dude you gave your phone number to out on the town is desperate to get a hold of you. Just a heads up, though; he calls at all hours of the night, and may have a drinking problem. Good luck!)
I mentioned in the last post that I was enrolled in a Lab School as a child. The basic gist is that the teachers were there to help our young minds blossom to their full potential based on various theories proposed by child psychologists.I remember a bunch of tree climbing and role-playing, with a couple nap times and snacks thrown in.
Teachers for the pre-school aged kids (which was my group) would ask us to play out a scenario like dinner, or home making. We'd go to the costume chest, then play with the kitchen sets and essential act out what we thought adulthood was. Only I never wanted to be the one who was in the kitchen "cooking". I would put on ties and hats and push boys out of the truck to be the man of the house. The teachers never scolded that, but encouraged it.
For "free time" which was what we called recess, I would climb the trees or play on the monkey bars. My socialization level wasn't very good. I didn't get along with kids my age. Crippling social anxiety rearing its ugly head that early? Maybe.
Snack time was much nicer than at Montessori, because no one was scolded for eating before anyone else. I was traumatised by that dress down, and still remember it twenty-three years later. And that's also why hearing Montessori will make my hackles rise.
Growing up with a child psychologist for a mother was a very interesting experience. I had many play dates, joined a number of teams and groups, was enrolled in a Lab School run by child psychologists, and generally had a number of opportunities to meet and make friends.
So I think it's funny that I meet the person I call my best friend by happenstance.
It was the Halloween before starting kindergarten, and I was a hula dancer, mainly because I wanted to wear a bikini 24-7 growing up. While rampaging around the neighborhood, I met a girl who was dressed in an authentic-looking immigrant outfit, standing on her front porch with her brother dressed as a pumpkin. I don't remember what we talked about, but that following school year, I recognized her in my class. Living so close together made play dates easy to plan and we grew very close.
Over twenty years later, I still call her my best friend. We've been through so many heartaches and joys together, I can't think of what my life would be like without her. She's the greatest, and I love her so much.
Thank you, friend, for everything.
I am competitive, so I enjoy the start of the
new year being so close to my birthday. I only
wish that I was born shortly after midnight on January 1st.
Blast!
{Plus, winter in Florida isn't what most people
would call... well, winter. So, overall, it
really doesn't matter.}
Finding the courage to go for it. Courage to take a step into the unknown.
I have no other advice or explanation than that.
I signed up as for BlogHer's January NaBloPoMo, where the basic gist is to blog daily. Every day of the month. The topic, as you can see in the sticker on my sidebar, is beginnings. What could possibly be more appropriate?
January 2nd will the the second anniversary of the blog. So much has happened, both good and bad, and I've had the fortune of joining a community to share my voice, hear other's, and develop wonderful relationships that I would have never known about if I had kept my worldview limited to my town. I never would have had the courage to do half the things I've attempted in such a short time.
Not only will January 3rd be my 25th birthday, but it will also be the first day of my nursing program. My confidence and self-esteem were so shattered by my experiences at the University of South Florida. I had no idea how much of a husk of my former self I was until I found the strength to take a risk. In January, I decided to apply for the nursing program at Keiser University. I studied intently for the TEAS test in February, the math and English comprehension tests in late February, and the interview process, all required prior to the decision if I would be accepted. I heard of my acceptance and began the few prerequisites in May.
You've read a few updates on my school progress, but only those who know me in real life have seen the change as my confidence returned. I'm happier than ever, and have even seen the return of my old sass and sparkle. Piss and vinegar, I think my mom refers to it.
So, this is my new beginning. My journey through the first month of being a nursing student.
See you on the other side!
