Really wasn't meant to be a girl...

I've never really cared for being a girl. Always wanted to be a guy; feeling that I related more to that side of humanity. Could never understand what made a girl tick. Finally at 15 or so I cut my hair really short and started dressing like a guy. Refused to answer to my name. I still remember my poor Mama had to introduce me to a family friend as such "this is my daugh..., sorry I mean my youngest 'son'" as she rolled her eyes and the person shook my hand obviously confused. 

I'm older now. And don't care either way since I've learned I don't have to be a girlie girl. I don't 'get' the use of manicures, pedicures, demonstrations, girls' night, heels, dresses...I'd rather be in jeans and boots dusty and grimy picking gnats off my cheeks after a long road trip. Nice picture huh?

So is it any wonder that my family was a bit confused when they saw me sitting on the couch with a knitting needle cursing at a ball of yarn. I was with my Mama Saturday and asked if she would try once again to teach me to make a little flower. She laughed. We both still remember the fiasco of the first attempt. But her mom taught her and I think it would be a cool thing to know. Part way through the little lesson I was grinding my teeth announcing that this was by far the most difficult thing I ever had to do and it was so much easier riding a motorcycle. "Ay Elena" she said. She always says that. I think it's my name "Ay Elena".

Sitting there with my family in the evening they kept laughing at my teeth grinding and frowns. I didn't make a flower. It looks more like a hammer...or a chicken drumstick. By Sunday morning I decided I would go outside instead and focus on something better. I built a campfire and moved tree stumps. I watched the sun play off the leaves as they fluttered through the air. Feeling the warmth of the sun on these last few warm days. And my heart swelled as I wallowed in that floaty feeling of gratitude. With no yarn.

Upon opening my eyes this morning I realized I had to do what I've been putting off for several months. Face my nemesis. Go dress shopping for my niece's wedding Saturday. I hate dresses. I hate shopping. I truly wish I could just pay someone to go do it for me. I tried to maintain Sunday's attitude. But no matter how hard I tried-I couldn't. And it soon became apparent I would have to go into the mall....

Anyway after my self-imposed ordeal I came to this conclusion. I don't hate shopping. I hate clothes shopping. I hate malls. I hate being in these stores that think people should all look the same. I don't like the 'feeling' of the people in these places. And I don't like that being in these places makes me so negative. Every thought started with "I hate....". Far cry from Sunday.

But on a positive note...I can spend glorious hours in book stores, art stores, antique and second hand stores, and those little artsy stores in tourist towns. After the third store and practically running through the mall, I begged my angels to help me find something to 'get me out of this hell-hole'.  I came home with a dress. It makes me look like a burrito. But it's one night. And my Mama asked me to wear a dress. I guess I could suck it in but I don't think I can suck in my 'birthing hips'. Hee hee.

But I feel too girlie now. 

So tomorrow I'm putting on my boots and going for a ride on the moto
to find my balance.