It's things like this that make me doubt the year on my birth certificate. Yes. I dyed my hair pink. It's not the first time. This time, though, it looks a bit like Neopolitan ice cream. And I love it. If that's not the coolest ponytail ever, I don't know what is.A few posts back, I was talking about my identity crisis, and this picture illustrates exactly why. Come on - you saw those pictures...none of them have pink hair evident, or multiple ear piercings or a tattoo or a belly button ring and I have, or have had, all of those things. The belly button ring went the way of pregnancies with 9 pound babies, unfortunately, but I live in hope of the day I will get it back. I'm not a dork. I'M NOT A DORK. Except when I am.
Here's the thing. Sometimes I am a dork, on the inside. I'm unsure of myself and feel like an idiot when I talk to other people and I still feel like I'm going to trip over my feet when I walk - the way I did when I was a gangly teen with REALLY large feet. I still feel the same as the girl with the bad mullet or the really bad perm or the countless horrifyingly bad haircuts. I still feel like the girl who was told, by the first boy I ever kissed, that I looked better in the dark. (Yes. Ouch. Junior High - I've blocked most of the memories)
And then, sometimes, on really good days, I feel like the ultra-cool punk princess I want to be. I tell stories and people laugh, I play the guitar and people sing along and enjoy it, even when I miss a chord or two. I paint something and it really is awesome. I dye my hair pink and brown and blonde and people stop me in Target to tell me how cool it is. I like those days. Stellar days. Punk rock days.
They are interwoven, the dork and the punk. Like a double helix of DNA - one side dork, one side punk - curling around each other until one doesn't function without the other. I'm not sure what exactly that makes me. Either a donk or a pork, maybe. Ew. Maybe not. (podunk?)
How about a woman who still feels like a girl. Maybe a woman who can't really fathom the time and space that have separated her from the 15 or 20 or 25 year old that she once was. Or perhaps just a woman who has lived fully these first 40 years, learned more than she ever thought possible, and plans to continue that trend through the next 40 years and more.
Somehow, I don't mind the idea of aging so much that way.
Hola mi hermana! You might be a dork or punk, perhaps a donk but never, oh never a pork!!! I sported purple hair when I was your age...yes...and I've had blue too......electric blue! I have a tattoo also that came after many margaritas on my 43rd birthday. Ah...What fun it is to be us don't you think? But I'm keeping mine blonde for now. :)
ReplyDeleteI agree with Marta and vote for donk. And I happen to think you're one of the coolest people that I know. Just think, if they say 40 is the new 30, and 50 is the new 40...how cool will we be when we're 80? Ubercool, baby!
ReplyDeleteI have yet to try the pink or for that matter any other color hair thing. It used to be red naturally but now that I have zipped way on by 40 and 50, it is getting grayer by the day. Now, I can say that I often do the ponytail thing. There are just other things I would rather do than get my hair cut.
ReplyDeletehee hee -- podunk! That's too funny. And I should tell you folks -- it looks waaaay cool in person.
ReplyDeleteYep, that's pink alright. Sort of goes with your glasses too. Podunk? How about dupo with the accent on the o, sounds a bit more exotic.
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