Chipped Polish & Wornout Jeans

Sometimes I think I want too much out of life. And I don’t mean little things like the fact that I’d love to have more readers on my blog (although I really would) or finally mastering some recipe or losing the fifty or more pounds I need to lose. I want to do so much with my life, and some of it is all so different.

I want to change the world, make it better, and I want to practice law. For so long I’ve wanted to be a lawyer, and I’ve done as much as I can to make that happen. I’ve given up so much to do it. I feel like I lost Jake to my own ambition because I left before I should have; if I had stayed in TN just one more year instead of rushing off at the first change I got, maybe things would have turned out differently for us, and then maybe I wouldn’t be so lonely. But that’s not the point. The point is that I so desperately want to be a lawyer, and I’m so afraid that I may never become one. I don’t what I’d do with my life if I couldn’t go to law school and become a lawyer. I’d give everything to be able to do that.

But I also want to bake; I want to make amazing cookies and cakes. I think it would terrific to be able to make these fabulous creations that make people smile when they see them. How does that add up? I mean becoming a lawyer and owning a bakery, or maybe just a small shop that sell custom orders only. I love baking, and I love being able to be creative in the kitchen. I had so much fun baking my niece’s third birthday cake, and I would love to keep improving. My Grandmother offered to send me to classes to learn stuff, and I’m really tempted to take her up on that offer. It would be great to be able to really decorate cakes and to make those beautiful and adorable cookies I see on other food blogs all the time.

When I said that I want too much out of life, I meant it. You see I want to write. I mean really write. I’ve always been passionate about the written word both reading it and writing for myself. It should come as no surprise that I have read thirty two books towards my goal of reading one hundred books in the year 2012. Someday I’d like to be published. I’d like to write something amazing and brilliant, something worth reading. I have folders full of unfinished works that I just haven’t been able finish. I have so many ideas, and I just want to write everything.

I want so much, and I’m so afraid that I want to much. I want to write and bake and practice law. I want to be happy most of all. I want to be happy.

In other news I have a new obsession. You can find me on pinterest! I don’t know what makes it so fabulous, but I love it.

Don’t you just hate it when you find a brand of clothing that just fits perfectly, only to have it discontinued? I have been wearing Arizona jeans for years, mostly because they are inexpensive while still looking nice. Well it appears that will no longer be the case. If they stop making shirts, shorts, and skirts, I’ll really be in trouble. Most of my wardrobe is Arizona, which is probably not a good thing, and I only own a few nice long sleeves shirts and sweaters. I have no clothes for warmer weather. I have two nice tank tops and three nice short sleeve t-shirt type shirts; I have no shorts, and no nice tops. Meanwhile I think I own one skirt, a short white eyelet number I bought while dating Jake because I wanted to be a girl for a change. I’m not even sure that the skirt will still fit me, and in any case, my thighs are so fat and my legs so pale that I highly doubt that I will be able to wear it ever again. Besides, I have no reason to dress all girl again at the moment.

I mentioned the fact that Arizona may be discontinued. Well, this leads to any number of problems, one of which is the fact that I have had to seek other brands for jeans. I went two Saturdays ago on a hunt for jeans, and I wound up with Levis. That is not the point of this entry. The point is that I had a minor breakdown over my body in the middle of Dillards because I felt fat and ugly. Let’s put it this way; I hate having to hear the words ‘we don’t have that in your size’ or any variation of that sentence. It never means that everything is too big. All my life I’ve dealt with it. I’ve put on a brave face and pretended it didn’t bother me for a long time. But lately my body image issues have been so terrible that putting on a brave face doesn’t exactly work for me. Sometimes I just can’t. Two sales girls asked us if we found everything alright, and I lied and said yes, even though I wasn’t having an easy time finding pants in my size at all. My grandmother was with us, and of course she tells the girls no that I’m having trouble ‘finding jeans to fit me’. From there it was go go gadget emotional breakdown, and I exited the store through the nearest door to avoid sobbing in the middle of the juniors department.

Here’s the deal, clothes for women my age, early to mid twenties, are generally one of two things: expensive or cut too small for me. I’m a curvy woman with wide hips, a big butt, and a decent bust line. I’m also built tall and long, meaning that everything is too short. I have to buy jeans labeled ‘long’ and unless I flatten my stomach shirts are impossible because my torso is long too. I have broad big shoulders and a wide rib cage, which makes me feel like I’m built like a man most of the time. I don’t feel pretty, and I’ve never felt pretty. It isn’t fair, but it’s what I deal with daily. I want to dress in something other than t-shirts and jeans, but it’s very difficult when clothes are cut narrow and short. My wardrobe staples are jeans, t-shirts with either sponsors for the race cars or my nerdy vintage green lantern t-shirts, and tennis shoes. None of that is remotely feminine or sexy at all.

I started to want to look more feminine when I was maybe a junior in high school, but I’d always been a tomboy. I love clothes and I love doing my nails now, but when I was thirteen and fourteen, all I cared about was four wheelers, horses, and the great outdoors. I didn’t know how to balance it, and I still really don’t. Suddenly I wanted to feel pretty. I wanted boys to like me and think I was pretty. But most of all, I wanted to feel like I belonged. By the time I was in college I was completely on my own again. My boyfriend lived in another state, and I was scrambling to make friends. I had no reason to dress up other than for mock trial, and that only required a black suit and heels.  When my boyfriend returned I wanted to be pretty again, remind him of why he started dating me, but I wasn’t very good at it. I’m still not good at it.

I’ve improved some I suppose. I know how to put on eyeliner and make up, and I know what does and does not flatter me. I like to paint my nails, and I don’t mess them up as much. But I still feel unattractive most days, and I feel like my clothes make me look even worse.