Let's lay our cards on the table, shall we? Many have said that I LOOKED like a bitch and/or an airhead when they first met me. Emphasis on the word "looked."
Well, isn't that just splendid? Lets just say that being perceived as a bitch and/or an airhead as far as first impressions go, kinda sucks. Big time.
My parents got divorced when I was 3 yrs-old. My mother is what you call a superfreakyworkaholic humanoid (I made that up), My father on the other hand, was as useless a human being as useless go. Somehow this made me into one nerdy, obsessive-compulsive, overachiever kid (awards, first place in competitions... you name it, I got it).
I got my Bachelor of Arts degree in Psych and Economics from the feminist college near Bean Town (yeah, that one). With a magna cum laude, thank you very much. Unfortunately, looking back, I think that's when my brain decided enough was enough. I was so burnt out I just wanted to get married and be a full-time housewife.
The first time I met my husband was when I was 18. He was 24, we went on dates, and he broke my heart two weeks later.
Fast forward four years later, I was 22, he was 28. We met again by chance. We dated, and got married 4 years later.
So when the role of housewife became available upon marriage, I was only too willing to take on the job.
Despite of my plans (yes I planned everything) not to get pregnant so soon, I became a mom 11 months after the wedding. Turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.
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| My 6.5 year-old daughter, Miss Chatterbox |
Actually, come to think of it, I'm more of a full-time mom than a housewife. What's the difference? Well, there’s never a time when I don’t feel like I'm a mom; whereas most of the time, I looked at my husband and mentally asked, “Whose husband are you again?” And that's on a good day. On a bad day, it's more like, "Who are you and why are you in my house?"
I am a shopaholic. I tend to collect things just because I tend to buy things I like more than one.
My favorite color is pink (ha! You wouldn’t have guessed it, would ya?), and I like Laura Ashley prints and shabby chic. I love girly things, blings, glitters, princess-y stuff. I love chantilly lace and cinderella ballgowns, and I cry over novels like the Sweet Gum Tree (if you haven't read it, you should. It's by Katherine Allred).
But, I don’t believe in happily ever after. I rolled my eyes at weddings, and I have zero tolerance for single girls who think that marriage is the key to their happiness. I think every girl should have pretty long hair, but I keep my hair really short because I can't be bothered to keep it in place. I talk when I'm supposed to be quiet, and I'm quiet at times when I'm expected to talk. I never know what to say when I meet new people, and I detest any kind of socializing and partying. I love my kid to death, but I’m not a soccer mom. I don’t talk to other parents on the rare occurrences that I had to come to school. The last time I met my husband’s friends’ wives were three years ago.
I hate talking on the phone, and I’m most comfortable when I’m alone, in my pajamas, reading on my little corner at home. In my decade or so of married life, I've been through many rough patches, and of course I'm no longer the naive, "I love you till the day I die" kind of girl that I was before. Yet I read and re-read all the Twilight books, fell in love with Edward Cullen (and actually elbowed some tweens in order to get to my movie tickets at the premier), and somehow convinced myself that there's such guy out there waiting for me (whaaaaat?!? I know, I know...).
This blog is for all the grown-up misfits out there, who just like me, don't seem to fit in any of life's particular category. Those who feels that often people too quickly judge their books by the covers. I don't think I'm an airhead, but I know I've said the stupidest things sometimes. I don't think I should be buying more designer jeans when my closet is already overpopulated, and yet I do. I might look like a bitch with my high heels and Chanel jacket, but I'm actually a real nerd at heart.
There, I've started my neurotic ramblings already. Welcome to Do Sweat the Small Stuff! Cos it's ALL small stuff!!!
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