The highs and lows of parenting and real estate.

Conversely Speaking

Do you ever just wanna remake yourself? Like maybe you’ve always been that guy who wears crew-neck shirts, but you’re thinking, Hey, I could rock a V-neck. I know I could. It’s possible I could even make a deep V work.

Yeah. I feel that way all the time. My freshman year in college I thought I’d go for an entirely different persona. Instead of the ‘Liz’ I’d been going by in high school, or the childhood nickname I couldn’t seem to get rid of, ‘Mini’, I thought I’d introduce myself as Liza. Yes, Liza. Because, you know, people named Liza have to be sparkly, confident and awesome, obvs (this was before Ms. Minnelli kind of ruined the name by being primarily known for marrying gay men and forgetting to put pants on). Sadly, when it came right down to it, I just didn’t have the cojones to introduce myself that way. And there were too many people I went to high school with who also went to my college. They would have laughed their asses off at Liza.

Ultimately I’m glad that one didn’t work out. I have enough names as it is. It’s a total pain in the ass to remember what each person calls me already without throwing a Liza in the mix.

But the point is, I just love to remake my image. It probably doesn’t mean I’m actually any different, but I love to think that making a change to something I’ve always done one way or always worn one way, means a fresh slate for who I am. It proves I’m in control of my destiny. I’m whoever and whatever I choose to be. I still think I can be whatever I want when I grow up (that’s something that will probably never change).

So today I’m going here:

That’s right, I bought casual tennies. And even socks to go with! Anyone who’s ever known me will tell you I am a flipflop gal. In fact, I’m even more so a barefoot gal; the flipflops are just so they don’t throw me out of restaurants and 7-11s. This purchase of a casual, not-specific-to-athletics tennis shoe is a huge deal for me. But I think I can pull it off. It’s a new Me whose toes aren’t showing. Maybe the new Me’s a little tomboyish. Maybe she needs to run somewhere with no notice. Maybe she just sometimes gets cold feet. Or possibly she’s going to visit her friend in Colorado and thinks these would work for both wandering around Denver and whitewater rafting (without the adorable socks, of course).

(I know, I know, I’m about to get a flood of comments telling me my shoes are in no way appropriate for whitewater rafting, with or without the socks. When will you people get that I’m stubborn and I have to learn these things for myself?)

Whoever this new Me is, I’d like her to also be someone who doesn’t have a dozen tiny hand prints all over her previously clean sliding glass door:

But that would mean remaking myself into someone who does windows. I don’t think I’m ready for that extreme of a change. I’ll stick with footwear.

 

 

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