Never say never

I have never been a girly-girl, or cursi as my dear friend R would say. I wear skirts, and dangling earrings, but I'm not "put together"; I don't do "outfits"; I just throw stuff together, check to see it doesn't clash horribly, wiggle to see if I'm comfy, and am out the door. I also never do anything much with my hair - I manage to comb it once every three days. Sometimes less. I usually yank it back into a ponytail, scraped tight because I hate wisps.

But no, I have suddenly caught myself becoming one of those girls!

It all started with BBot telling me I should part my hair on the side. Then he moved on to ohhh don't tie it up you look so pretty, followed by stealing of hair bands. Then I found a haircutter (much like a woodcutter?) who gave me bangs. And another one who gave me MORE, and shorter, bangs. Which are pretty and all, but when I wash my hair and it's doing it's curly-wavy thing, it's a horror.

So, from a girl who washes her hair, grabs a hair tie and scrapes it back into a ponytail or a bun, I have become a girl who washes her hair, blow dries and irons the front, and then ties back the wet hair in the usual bun, with bangs framing my face.

I have also started dressing "together"! A lot has to do with acquiring trendy clothes that FIT, and getting over some body issues, but put the two together and look! I'm a whole other person!

I also used to say, that once I acquired a SigOth, I would not be one of those people who stops hanging out with her friends, and spends all her time home with boy, or hanging out with other couples.

HAH!

Fat chance.

Whod'a thunk it?

Humming

(aside) I have the workout tingles again!

This morning, in the shower, I found myself humming. What! you cry, the HORROR! HUMMING! in the SHOWER!!

Yes, yes, pipe down, it's perfectly normal, I know.

However, I only ever hum in the shower when I'm very serene and content. Which, in the light of the the events of October and November, is surprising!

The Roommate left for greener pastures in March this year, and since OOF found himself homeless, it made a lot of sense for him to move in. Which he did. To the horror of pretty much everyone who has known us a long time. Ah how right they were =) I'll spare you all the details, but after six months of happy happy joy joy love love, it all kinda exploded, and it turned out that little, if any at all, had changed from our earlier relationship. Well, with the exception of my being in love with him, thereby rendering my doormatness even less justified. And us being considerably older, and therefore even less justification for childish behaviour on both sides. But he's gone now, back to Mommy thank the lord, and I'm left alone in my beloved flat.

At first I was horribly sad. There were at least two episodes of sobbing. Then, I was tense, because he was around and I just wanted closure! Put two passive aggressive drama queens in a complicated situation and you bet there's a ton of drama! After he left, I was relieved, intensely so - until I was livid at his parting behaviour, which really should not have surprised me in the least, since I have always quietly accepted his unacceptable behaviour and neither called him on it nor made him deal with the consequences, so why shouldn't he expect that I clean up his trash after he moves out?

I got past the anger, at myself for thinking he could change and caring so much that he do so, with some serious cuddles from the BBot, and settled down to unease. I was just jittery in my own house. I didn't want to be there alone. Some of this might have to do with reading the Twilight Saga (STOP at book 3 people!), but I was seriously unsettled by my extreme reluctance to be in my own home! I mean, I LOVE being home!

This past weekend, Momma sternly told me to be a grown up and stay in my own house, which I did. And all week I've been joyously coming home to curl up in bed at 10pm, and partake of my own, very scintillating thank you very much, company. This morning was wonderful - getting out of my toasty bed into the cold winter air, going to the gym and coming back, making tea with the kitchen windows open, and lounging on the couch in my OWN mess. I find that, even though I've always been the kind of person who likes company - someone else somewhere doing their own thing - I am equally happy on my own.

Now, if I could only find a maid...