Q-tips feel icky, k?

The other night, I watched as my friends rode a mechanical bull after a night of karaoke. My friend Emily turned to all of us and asked "Who are we?"

We laughed.

But I find myself asking that question alot lately- who am I?

Why am I here?

Yes, this may be one of those silly midlife crisises. Or it may be PMS. Who knows.

But who am I really? Does anybody know? If so, and you find me for myself, will you text me or something and tell myself I am looking for me? Thanks.

In all seriousness, I take myself to seriously. I realize this. I am like a poodle- high strung and likely to bark. Ick.

I am catty and nasty sometimes, without even realizing it. Ick ick.

I am impatient and unkind.

I hate using Q-tips, so most likely I am all of these things, AND I have dirty ears.

I don't drink enough water and I eat too much.

Is all of this who I am? If so, I am suprised I have lived with myself this long.

If I could, I would change many things about myself. My nature, my impatience, my tendency to curse like a sailor when I get angry.

If I could, I would change my face, my body, my toes, my hair.

But you know what? I friggin can't. All of this, bad or worse, is me. All of it, part and parcel.

I can dream of a smaller dress size, I can dream of a brand new personality for myself, but it can't happen. Not without giving up all of myself , chocolate addiction included.

So here I am. All of me, my ragged personality, my tattered past, my rounded body, my impatient snappiness. Its all right here.

Love it or leave it alone.

So this post has no point. I can't always have a point you know.

Okay, my point is this: a round peg doesn't fit into a square hole. And I am nothing if not round, damnitt.

Goodnight. :)