My friend Tina's daughter, Maddy, has a unique habit. She picks one word that she associates with you after each visit. She is not quite 2 so maybe one word is all she can handle. You are then "Fun Michelle" or "Happy Jodi" until you see her again and then you are given a new word. Owen and her hang out alot and I can tell alot about thier visit from the word she chooses. We have been "Owen NO NO", "Owen share", "Owie Swim" , "fun Owie" and my personal favorite "Owen friend". I wonder if people had to choose one word to sum up our experience after each interaction, what it would be. Sometimes, I am afraid I would be "tired Michelle" or "stressed Michelle" or "busy Michelle" or something worse. I would hope for "Michelle friend" or "Michelle laugh" or nice or wise or caring....things like that. The best word, the one we are all called to be, and the one that I don't reflect nearly as often as I'd like, would be "Christ".
Someone recently sent me a meme about tattoos. I reminded them that I have over half a dozen, although none in such obvious places as the picture. I thought about it while I washed my hair, and how once my hair was also purple, and what kind of memes could be found about that. And also, my nose was pierced. Other than the first two tattoos, none of these were things I did in my youth. All were in my thirties. Currently my hair is a plain brown in a sensible cut. My tattoos all easily hidden with most clothing and only my ears are pierced. As this decade closes I have made efforts to dress more professionally, drink less, stay on top of the laundry although I still refuse to make my bed and talk at an appropriate volume level. Yet, I only looked back on my purple-haired days with longing rather than regret. See, I used to do those things to be different. Sometimes I’d feel just a little trapped by my suburban life although perfect, felt a little too predictable. I fel...
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Hope we can get together tomorrow.