A Letter to Myself as a Teenager...

Thanks to Amy for the challenge...

Dear Teen Me,

You. Are. Fabulous.

I am proud of you. You are wonderful and friendly; you do not distinguish between the jock and the geek. In fact, you know that you will get more satisfaction out of dating the geek. You are smart, and your grades reflect that. You are fun, and your friendships reflect that. You are brave, and your theatre work reflects that. I would change nothing about you.

Remember that you are loved. Though you may sometimes not understand the ways your parents show their love, it is pure. One day, you will have a daughter, and you will know there is nothing sweeter or stronger than a parent’s love for their child.

Don’t let anyone tell you that you are a disappointment. Every experience you have will lead you to the person you are meant to be. Failing is a big part of that. Don’t be afraid; rather, don’t let your fear stop you from doing something risky. This will result in you moving far away and meeting your soulmate; this will result in you knowing the best love there is.

Fall in love. Yes, it hurts. Yes, you will have your heart broken. 4 times, as a matter of fact. This only makes the REAL THING that much sweeter. This also may result in you finding the job you are meant to have.

Don’t throw away your poetry. It may not be great, but Older You will miss having that glimpse into your mind. And, honestly, it is pretty good.

Pink is your power color. Yes, you look good in red; however, there is hardly anything you can’t have when you are wearing pink. It matches your aura.

I am not going to warn you against anything. I am not going to tell you what decisions not to make. You must make your mistakes to become the woman you are meant to be. I will only tell you that you will be happy. And remember - no matter what happens, the pendulum always swings back.

Oh, yeah, don’t throw away your chunky black loafers. They are back in this season and I can’t find a pair anywhere.

Love,
The Amazing Person You Will Become

Bad Blogger! Bad! No, No, No!

I have only posted once this week.

Oops. Sorry, guys!!

I have been crazy busy, I have been unfocused, I am trying to get everything done for a wedding 3,000 miles away and realizing that there is not much I can do. And Violet has (another) ear infection.

So...thank you, Rima, for making me a Nice Matters blogger. It really means so much to me, I teared up a little when I read your blog. I promise to pass it on soon.

And Jennie, I will answer your questions soon as well. And they are gonna ROCK SO HARD your eyes will melt.

I will be back and Fabulous again as soon as I can hear something other than the BUZZ of un-focus-ey-ness inside my head.

Ciao! (she said in a completely tacky and pretentious way.)

Don't hate my mama cause she forgets to post! Look at how cute I am! Doesn't she deserve some slack since she makes such gorgeous kids?!?

Prada, Prada, My Kingdom for Some Prada...

When I worked for the Box Store, I wore whatever I wanted. It was usually a form of khakis and a t-shirt. The only stipulation was that I couldn’t wear jeans; this, of course, meant that I only wanted to wear jeans and I was unsatisfied.

When I worked for the movie store chain, we had to wear red shirts and khakis. While it was nice to know what you were going to be wearing every day, and it cut out a large amount of prep time, all I wanted was to choose my own clothes and I was unsatisfied.

When I work as an admin, I wear dress trousers and simple shirts. I mostly wear ballet flats or brown sandals. I try to spice it up a bit with some crazy jewelry, but since my hair has gone metallic blonde, I keep it rather simple. Cardigans, camisoles, buttons, and cuffed pants are the bulk of my work wardrobe; I cannot wear jeans every day, and I am unsatisfied.

I find myself wishing for a job at Old Navy, where you are expected to wear jeans. Or even a place where I have to wear polos with logos on them. Of course, my fantasy is to stay home with Violet and wear designer sweatsuits everyday…

Perhaps I will never be satisfied with the clothing choices I am expected to make. I have heard from somewhere that the grass is always greener on the other side; I suppose the clothes are always better over there as well.
Someday, though…someday, I will wake up and grab whatever speaks to me before heading off to work.

Is it sad that my career ambitions pivot on clothing?