I grew up a tomboy.
Not one of those cool, sport playing tomboys that is confident and gorgeous and still girly even though she thinks she’s not girly. Who still wears cute clothes, has cute hair, and paints her finger and toe nails.
I was a farm-raised, awkward, klutzy, “boys have way more fun growing up” tomboy.
While some girls were painting their nails, I was digging in the dirt – making the latest race track for the hot wheels.
While some girls were sighing over their first third grade crush, I was decking the boy who tried to kiss me.
While some girls were turning flips on the monkey bars and cartwheels in the grass (gymnastics was the COOL girly thing in my elementary school), I was playing football with the guys.
While some girls were shopping for the latest fashions, I was jumping out the hayloft window into the VERY well-limed (ie: NOT STINKY) manure pile.
While some girls were practicing their first kiss on a mirror, I was receiving punching lessons from my brothers – again in the hayloft.
While some girls were mooning over the latest cute hollywood or music star, I was building castles out of hay bales and swinging from the rafters on ropes.
While some girls sunbathed for that glamorous tan, I raced oil barrels across the mucky duck pond.
While some girls had gorgeous flowing locks, or cute curly bobs, I had short hair and looked so much like a boy that I was often mistaken for one.
While some girls did whatever girls do at that young age, I hunted critters with my brother’s BB gun, caught frogs, toads, lizards and snakes, and had spitting contests.
While some girls worried about how to impress the boys and what others would think, I burped the entire alphabet.
So, where is all this going?
Well, I have come in touch with my inner
(somewhat at least). I painted my toenails for the first time at age twenty-seven. (I don’t do fingernails much – I don’t like the way they feel, but I have come to enjoy colorful toenails.) I also tweezed my eyebrows for the first time when I was twenty-seven. My sister makes beautiful jewelery, so I were necklaces, earrings, and even bracelets now. I will even, on occasion, wear
but only because it looks good on me (darn it)
I am still a little hopeless when it comes to fashion. Friends have helped A LOT on that front.
Anyway, a while back I got a scarf.
One of those long pretty decorative type scarves that you see hanging on the wracks at the store and think “what a frivolity.” Well, at least that’s what I thought – though secretly I like them.
The first scarf I obtained was a pretty red scarf given to me by a friend. The second scarf came about after attending a writer’s conference with a friend.
There is an unwritten law that if you are a female writer you MUST wear some kind of fancy or decorative scarf. My friend and I couldn’t stop giggling at the fact that at least ninety percent of the females in the room all sported some type of scarf.
We left the conference and laughed our way to the store where we picked out our “writer’s” scarf.
The only problem was, other than hanging the thing around my neck, I didn’t know how to were them.
Finally, after a year or two, I decided to look up scarf tying on the internet.
I can now fashionably wear and tie my scarf.
By now, though, the fashion is probably waning. ha ha. But at least I know that I can fit in at writer’s conferences. Muahahahahaha.
So, what’s next? Six-inch stillettos?
not unless I want to kill my self 😀
(oh, and if you’re a clueless scarf tie-er like me, check out this website)