Let’s shake it up a bit and get a teensy weensy bit personal. Oh, how we women love to be like this, spilling the A-Zs on how we are in life etc., hence the blog. No tsismis though (gossip), go to Jamba if you want something juicy. Becoming 29 has significantly bumped up my looking-young-for-my-age points, although aspects of that do irritate me sometimes, like physically I truly wish I was taller and proportioned. I often tend to wonder why it wasn’t enough that I was stamped with “babyface” features, why it is that I have to be kiddish short, flat where I shouldn’t be (you get it, ladies), quite skinny waist-up but with chunky legs and feet that won’t slide into skinny fit jeans or slender shoes like hands into a glove ever. I’ve had even the most tactful people tell me when we dress up for events together “ahh, malaki pala legs mo noh?” in the kindest tone and it’s not even because they’re HUGE, they’re I’d say of medium heft, it’s just they don’t match the waif build of my upper half. O,h note to those reading, this might be a bit long. It’s kinda like an open diary entry made appropriate for public reading.
Anyway, body grievances aside (don’t blame me, we all have them, don’t tell me you don’t) I believe I’m still a pretty perky person especially for someone who’s 29 and still single and I am learning to appreciate how young I look, but I have come to the point where I prefer not to be mistaken for a high-school student. I’m 29, honesty really, I’d rather be thought of as a BABE than a BABY. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t write this post to PLUG that I’m single, I wrote it to share that I’m still happy that I am. This whole mode of self-exploration helps me come to terms with it. Think of it as a random ramble that I like to do about myself once in awhile just to tie in all the inspired blabbing I do about beauty and cosmetics. Recently I’ve had a couple of odd days where I’ve met single women a few years younger than me more desperate to be with a guy than I am, I’ve met a few on shoots and they begin interrogating me, presuming I’m in college or just graduated. They get the shock of their lives that I’m 29 and begin “adjusting” their conversation approach and add more respect because only a few moments earlier they thought they were trying to talk to an “18-yr old” LOL. It’s not their fault of course that they thought I was a teen. It’s just the way things are.
A lot of the time these lovely women (usually heaps taller than me) look at me in curiosity immediately assume since I’m 29 that I’m either in a relationship, engaged, newly married, plain married, or dating when it’s really, at this point in time, none of the above for no particular reason except God hasn’t revealed the One and I haven’t found myself “at home” with someone, and it can tend to perplex people to no end. So they then assume I’m not interested in getting married. Geez,phooey, I’ve only just come out of a 3-year relationship last year but of course I am interested in settling down. I’m a hopeful romantic, not hopeless, remember don’t doom yourself by using that word (I revoke the times that I have). Many still single women repeatedly label themselves as “hopeless romantics” and deep inside they’re like “Oh God I hope I find someone like tomorrow” but hope drains away like water through a sieve. I got engaged the first time when I was 5 yrs old in elementary, to a Jewish classmate, he was also my first kiss (sorry Mom, not recommended) because he did a Dance Instructor dip while we were lined up after lunch and planted a wet one. Before that we pranced around school arm in arm announcing to everyone we were engaged, with gusto, and that they were invited to our wedding. I remember him with his cherub features (blonde curls, blue eyes, freckles, missing teeth, all you could ask for really) yelling “This is Julia, we’re going to get married everyone!” Good times, I think later on though it had a lot to do with my being transferred. A few weeks later, my Italian classmate made me his girlfriend for a little under a week, then after that my Australian classmate did. It was an international school, not I.S. though so “relationships” were fleeting really. I have had and do have a couple of crushes on hand of course, gosh what am I, numb? Of course not, and when people invite you to go out, GO OUT, if you don’t invite friends out and be seen, don’t sit pretty and wait aimlessly. Which leads me to the song by Brooke Fraser called Arithmetic. A fan of the movie Tarzan had used the song thinking it was a love song for a guy and edited it to fit scenes of Disneys Jane and Tarzan. However it’s a song primarily for the Lord, and I think it’s a great single girl’s song, because before any guy this is how you should feel about your Maker, excited to spend time with Him. The lyrics aren’t the USUAL and it’s truly intimate and captivating. I love it.
The late Anne Bancroft, who was, when asked a similar question had replied, “When he comes home at night and I hear his key in the lock I say to myself, ‘Oh good! The party’s about to begin.’”