I'm in the sixth grade. I'm sitting on the floor at my friend Sharon's house. Rachel is there, too. My well-meaning friends turn to me and gently let me know that I "really don't need to bother wearing a bra." They aren't wrong. I'm wearing one, but the situation doesn't particularly warrant it. Two years later, I found myself sporting a C cup. My mom, a talented seamstress, made me a dress at about that time. It was a slim-fitting column dress with a matching jacket, as I recall. The white fabric had large polka dots; we jokingly called it the Wonder Bread dress. My mom took my measurements. 36-24-36 At some point in history, those numbers were considered "perfect measurements" for a woman. This was 1984; I'd like to think the world as a whole is less concerned about such things these days. I'm confident my daughter has no earthly idea what her measurements are. She just knows she's cute. Growing up with a fun array of medi
The list of adjectives I assign to myself is pretty long: clumsy, organized, competent, uptight, etc. One that might surprise you: patriotic. I fully understand what it means to be an American and am darned happy about living here. But, I have a beef (that part won't surprise you). I've grown tired of certain segments of the population thinking that they've cornered the market on patriotism or that they can dictate precisely how the rest of us express ourselves when it comes to our shared country and flag. Sometimes it seems like the Toby-Keith-boot-in-yer-ass brand of patriotism drowns out the rest of us. For the record, I don't believe that patriotism requires a love of NASCAR, a disdain for immigrants, a Republican voting record, or a preference for country music. Nor does it require adherence to a specific religion. I've seen Facebook posts from some of my friends and acquaintances that call for all of us to return to the "Christian principles on which
I've been gaining some new readers lately, which is very gratifying. I've done some reading on the topic of optimizing one's blog, and one oft-used suggestion is to have a giveaway of some type. "No," I always think to myself with a self-satisfied shake of my head. "I will not cheapen my blog like that. I want people to come on by because they like my writing." Or because they find me incredibly witty and unmistakably modest. Or they think I have the cutest kid they've ever seen, bar none. Or they are stalking me and need to gather just a bit more personal information before showing up at my workplace with a machete. I've also noticed that some of the blogs that receive heavy traffic are also very confessional (TMI) in nature. I think harboring a few secrets is healthy, so I'll continue to keep some things to myself, thankyouveddymuch. I'm also keenly aware that I don't really have a reliable shtick on which to hang my blogger hat. I
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