As opposed to outside thoughts. I have a few today. We had a satellite outage on Thursday night so I couldn't blog and last night my mind was too full to write. Now I have to catch up.
1. Someone found my blog through Google using "pics=little girls won't wear panties." This person gets one imprecatory prayer and one report of their IP address to the FBI from me. I'm into imprecatory prayers because I like to use the word 'imprecatory,' but I don't really do them.
2. It dawned on me last night as I was reading The Wedding by Nicholas Sparks, the same guy who wrote the fantastic chick movie, The Notebook, that my sister is my father's favorite. I'm okay with it. Honestly, I am. I love them both. My sister was a cute blue eyed, chubby, blonde baby and as a little girl, quite the cutie pie. Once some Iranian people who were fascinated by her complexion and hair gave her a toy pearl necklace. They ignored me. And my sister tells my father what he wants to hear. I don't. The last time he insulted me I called him on it and he phoned my sister to ask what he should do. He prefers to hear what she has to say because she will go to great lengths to smooth things over. I'm not very smooth.
3. I am an aunt again, fourth nephew, no nieces, but the baby is still in the hospital. Born at 8:01am on January 3rd, he has been battling fluid in his lungs. We have not been told when he can go home yet. His mother's arms are empty. He is on 100% oxygen. Improving, I think.
4. My new daughter-in-law-to-be was not altogether there with the dress I suggested for me to wear to the wedding. She said it was pretty but she'd show me what she has in mind if I wanted, and I said sure! Bring it on! I was excited to see what she had in mind. I showed the dress online to my husband and boy howdy, sometimes when a husband speaks you know there's no use arguing. This was one of those times. He bellowed, "We are not going formal!" Actually, I'm fine with that. I have no formal clothes at all, no accessories, no dressy shoes. How-some-ever, I, Liliana, get the job of communicating this to the bride-to-be. Also, I get to tell her that we're not attending the reception. The reception is being held in Tijuana. We just are not going to Tijuana.
So I emailed her and told her, gently, but straight up. I also told her we won't be going to the reception. And that I was sorry. I am, too. She replied with the sweetest, sincerest email. The ball is in my court again. This takes a lot of energy.
I will include a photo of the dress she had in mind. This dress, I would poke both of my eyes out with hot pokers before I would wear it. I'd never in a million years pick this style. This is a dress for a 60 year old woman and they've plopped a 20 year old model into it. It's all polyestery or organzanite or some such fabric. My husband says, just wear what you originally wanted to wear. But I ask you, is it that easy?
Which leads to the ultimate question, who am I? I've led myself to believe that clothes are not important. Two years ago I shed the whole empty facade of 'what I wear is what I am.' At least, I thought I had. I worked so hard at it, at least, I thought I worked hard at it. And I now face, of all things, a clothes problem. It's causing me consternation and worry. Haven't I moved up in the world at all? Is God up there enjoying watching me go in these teeny, tiny circles?
I think I'll just sink into a song. I used to really dig Courtney Love, but I've seen her face and I don't know her anymore. I would, but I can't link it to YouTube because the vid comments are full of foul language. Bummer.
"Doll Parts" from Live Through This by Hole
I am doll eyes
Doll mouth, doll legs
I am doll arms, big veins, dog bait
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, they really do
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, but I do too
I want to be the girl with the most cake
I love him so much it just turns to hate
I fake it so real, I am beyond fake
And someday, you will ache like I ache
Someday, you will ache like I ache
I am doll parts
Bad skin, doll heart
It stands for knife
For the rest of my life
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, they really do
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, but I do, too
I want to be the girl with the most cake
He only loves those things because he loves to see them break
I fake it so real, I am beyond fake
And someday, you will ache like I ache
Someday you will ache like I ache
Doll mouth, doll legs
I am doll arms, big veins, dog bait
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, they really do
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, but I do too
I want to be the girl with the most cake
I love him so much it just turns to hate
I fake it so real, I am beyond fake
And someday, you will ache like I ache
Someday, you will ache like I ache
I am doll parts
Bad skin, doll heart
It stands for knife
For the rest of my life
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, they really do
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, but I do, too
I want to be the girl with the most cake
He only loves those things because he loves to see them break
I fake it so real, I am beyond fake
And someday, you will ache like I ache
Someday you will ache like I ache
