The Wisdom of Baby Sis

Stress sucks.

My sister gave me a very good exercise to try today and I've found it to be successful. When I called her sobbing about my patheticness and she worried about me in a way that made me feel both loved and pitiful, she told me to write down everything I was worried about on a piece of paper and put it in an envelope and put the envelope in a drawer and not to think about it. So I did. I wrote down all the things freaking me out (my job, my messy apartment, my crazy reproductive organs, money, etc.) then put it in a drawer. I then took a shower, shaved my legs, put my hair in two braided pigtails and made my husband take me to see Miami Vice so I could drool over Colin Farrell (and let me once more reiterate that Michael Mann movies drive me up a wall. Could you just pick a damn camera angle and try not to shake like a crack addict who hasn't had a hit in twenty-four hours??).

And the weird thing? I felt better. I felt so much more me again instead of that weepy mess with the high pitched voice who got cry babyish with her sister. Of course to get that advice, I freaked my little sister out, which sucked, but I'll smooth that over later. All the shit's still there, but I'm not thinking about it.

And let me tell you, braids, glasses, and no makeup had the kid at the movie theater asking me if I was student. I looked about nineteen. I wanted Omar to take me out and try to buy me beer to see if I'd get carded. That kid thinking I was a kid made my whole freaking night. When we were on our honeymoon, I was doing the ponytail, no makeup, baseball cap thing and got carded everywhere. Omar, not so much. Which is funny because I'm older than him (only by four months!!). Apparently I look twelve with my hair out of my face and no makeup on. I was going to cut my hair but if pigtails make me look young, it's staying down to near my waist, heat wave or no!