"when i was four years old they tried to test my i.q.
they showed me a picture of 3 oranges and a pear
they said, which one is different? it does not belong
they taught me different is wrong" -Tori Amos ' my i.q.'
Did you know its less than two months to Christmas?
Not Clausmas, okay, not that commercialized version of the celebration of the birth of my Savior, but Christmas. Its coming and I can feel its tingle.
I don't blog about my faith very much, which is a crying shame, because its very much a part of my life. I am a baptised Catholic and I feel my most at peace in the sanctuary the Mass offers, in the stillness of the Mass. I rant to God a lot, and I vent, and I rage, but I thank, and I praise, and I worship.
My faith is something I treasure, and if that makes me different, or simply one amongst the multitude, then..I'm okay with that. Either way, its a part of me and Im sure it will be for a long time coming. Im enjoying serving in my local church and community. I have a lot to make up for. Yuck, that just made what Im doing seem less somehow and ugly. But it doesnt make it any less true.
It was amusing the other day when I was totally lost about how to do something at work and a colleague looked at me and I asked pleadingly"what should I do?'' and they said,'just do what you do best!" and I asked what and they replied, "be pretty!"
I waited for the laugh, for thepunchline,and when it didnt come, thats when I realised they were serious. Huh. Me, 'pretty? Hahaha, thats a laugh and a half, and while likemy work, I have my good days where Im somewhat pleasant to the eye, and lately I get complimented for things beyond the so called brains loads more these days (and allegedweight loss)....it just doesnt fit.
The thirteen year old in me is flabbergasted, I tell you.
Maybe because Im back in Brunei, where my adolescence took place, so the setting just seemed surreal somehow. By the time I got to uni, I was much lessawkward,the boys didnt seem to mind the extra weight, I was more interested in my appearanceand my photo ops were legendary and I liked my minis and my rebonding but here in this place, sometimes I feel thirteen all over again.
Another point Im considering is that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and since most of my beholders remember the thirteen year old with every 'flaw' you could find (you know, the skin problem, the extra weight, the bushy eyebrows, the unrulyhair, the lack of fashion sense, name the flaw, I had it!), its not really that much of a compliment, since even a monkey in a dress could look prettier than me at thirteen.
I was such a boy.
Thank God for the miracles of rebonding and so on. If I lived in the stone age, I think Id look pretty much like the perfect stone man. Heh.
But its been good as I can tell who the people who cared about me at a deeper level are now. Theyre the ones who don't react so much when they see me. They embrace melike we hadnt separated for so long and they ask how I am today, not query my appearance in disbelief and wonder how it happened. Bitches.
It should be an ego boost, but my ego is massive enough already (haha) even without it all and when taking into account the other things Im awesome at that *doesnt* involve the superficial high of outer beauty.
Not that my inner beauty is very pretty, hahahahaha. But my dears thats a story for another day.
I mean, I know my strengths. And while its nice to hear the compliments, theyre almost superfluous, and at the end of the day, I'd rather be known for other things, is all, and I don't need makeup or clothes or great hair to make or break the definition of what makes me...me.
But I wont lie that it feels strangely gratifying on the days when I feel mentally spent.
In other news, man, have I had 'off' days at work! But Im getting the hang of things and getting more confident, and if there was ever such a thing as an on day, then today was definitely one of them.
No comments:
Post a Comment