27 Things Series: January 1

Well, folks.

As promised, here is my first post of the "27 Things" Series. For January 1st, I wrote that I wanted to paint my nails.

So, tonight, I did just that. I painted my nails this subtly light pinky sparkly color. I know, I know. Too many describing words, but alas, that is the teacher in me. Over the years, I've learned that it is very hard for me sit still after I apply that first coat of polish. I am like a child, eagerly awaiting Christmas morning, excited to see the presents under the tree. And, by the time the second coat of "Picture Perfect Pink" is applied, I am the child jumping on my parents' bed at 4:30am in the morning, unable to contain my excitement.

My grandmother was always the best when it came to getting a manicure and waiting for the polish to dry. She would sit at her kitchen table, her fingers out, as I painted them. I don't know how she sat there, waiting for each fingernail to dry. Never once did she chip a nail, unlike me - who is ready to get up and go even when "things are still wet."

I've experienced that latter mentality in life, you know, the "eagerness" to "just go," even when "things are still wet" and waiting to dry. As a teenager, I just wanted to go and go, like the Energizer Bunny. Though I was shy, even during my English classes and would rarely raise my hand to provide an answer when called upon, the innermost parts of me, were leaping like a frog, from lily pad to lily pad.

As an adult, I find the actual part of "waiting," much easier. In fact, I've coined myself with the term "the waiter," or rather, "the waitress." Waiting comes easy to me, because for 26 years, I've waited and worked for all that I have. Yet, when it comes to relationships, particularly those with men, I wait and wait. My friends, especially those who are close to me, say that I should "take risks" (albeit, healthy), and "put myself out there." Yet, as an independent woman, I've realized that I've become used to "sniffing" out the imposter guys; the ones dressed in suits and who seem to have their whole life together. Their clothes are pressed with a flat iron, their words are all strung together so intricately like a string of those aforementioned Christmas lights, and their solid black shoes convey a stunning reflection of themselves. I was confused by their appearances at first, often falling for my "crushes" but refusing to follow them for real, knowing deep down in my being that they were wearing a façade of societal obligations.

Now, I've realized that its the men that come by unexpectedly, the ones that don't necessarily follow all of the customs and rules and routines that society has traditionally mapped out for them; the ones that are genuine and innately natural, those are the ones that I remember the most. They convey the simple things in life and sometimes, plaid shirts are easier to manage than pressed business suits.

Anyway, all of this over painting my nails.
:)

Cheers, friends - and may you have a happy, and healthy New Year!
Stay tuned for Post # 2, coming tomorrow.

-alex