On Being Easy, Breezy, And Not So Beautiful- Cover Girl

I have always prided myself in being much like the slogan goes: an “Easy, Breezy, Beautiful, Cover Girl ”(I’m sure this is trade marked by Cover Girl… so full credit goes to them, thank you for giving me my life motto, don’t sue me for using it). I go with the flow, do things when I feel like it, the less effort the better, and look drop dead gorgeous in the process.My logic in life planning best exemplifies this life motto (i.e. there is no logic, and especially no planning. There is a lot of doing, however.)

Example A: On Moving Back To The East Coast

In three months, the genius that I am, decided to move across country, again. Let me re-phrase, the broke genius that I am has decided to move 3,000 miles just for the heck of it… again. No planning, no logic, just moving. I decided in December, and here I am in February, packing boxes, biting nails, and counting pennies.

I can’t say this is proof of my immaturity. If anything it is proof of how much I have grown. Last time I packed up and moved across state borders, I did so within 5 hours of making that decision.

Example B: This Is Not The First Time I Have Moved

Yes, one day not too long ago, I woke up in Chicago at 10 am, said “I hate this witch of a city, with their bad taste in baseball and its quirky personality people”. Five hours later, I found that I had packed my eco-friendly(not really) SUV  with my most prized possessions (clothes, shoes, and my paintings). My poor car weighed more than my aunts mini-van packed with 30 of our heavy-set relatives. I then hopped in and drove two and half days to California. Hey, like some people have black-outs during fights… I black-out while packing, it’s like a medical condition or something.

Moving back to the east coast, is perhaps the most thought out thing I have done in a very long time.

Examples C thru F- Not Very Thought-Out Things

1st time moving to New York: 2 weeks. I wanted to go to college far away from my parents, I applied for late admission, got accepted, and fled.

Moving to Chicago: 3 days. I got offered a job, I took it, and moved my most worldly possessions (clothes and shoes) in three days.

Getting married: 30 minutes after being asked. He asked, I said yes, we eloped right there and then. And no, it’s not romantic when you elope in the middle of Indiana. That my friends, is just hill-billy-ish.

All trips/ adventures I have embarked on in the past 15 years have been thought of, planned, and executed in less than two weeks. If you need proof of this, I can show you my empty savings account.

While being easy, breezy, beautiful, and a cover girl have gotten me many splendid experiences; they have also caused me a lot of over-dramatic grierf (i.e. getting married to someone I barely knew that couldn’t appreciate my beauty and humor as much as I did). And as I’ve aged, I notice that I stress more and handle it with less grace. Perhaps, it’s been the scars left from previous ill-thought-out choices, that have me more worried this time around. Perhaps, it’s the scars that are making the wrinkles from my “wtf am I doing” frown more noticeable. Perhaps, it’s the combination of scars and wrinkles that are making me feel so bleh during this moving process.

Thing is, I am familiar with stress. As easy and breezy as I try to be; I’m a Virgo  I have my moments. Feeling that I look horrid, however, is not something I know. Perhaps when I was a young schmuck, way before I knew the magnitude of my beauty, I knew what that felt like. But not anymore.

The last time I remember relating to feeling ugly, was when I was 12. Not only did I feel ugly, but I also doubted everything about myself. I doubted being smart, I doubted being liked much less loved, I doubted the possibility I could be anything in this world, that I could do anything. I was filled with doubt.

And to an extent, that’s how I felt this past week. Filled with doubt. Perhaps that’s why I don’t plan anything over a two-week span; it opens up the doors to doubt. I doesn’t allow me to be breezy which is essential for the Cover Girl part of my life motto.

The doubt was so bad, I was contemplating becoming a cutter with blunt butter knives(don’t worry, I would never harm this body… I’m just dramatic).I was especially fake suicidal, after I caught myself frowning. I was looking at craigslist’s as a viable search engine for a new place. Big mistake. (Just FYI cozy=small as hell, vintage charm = old as hell, charming neighborhood= weird as hell, and great price= you can’t afford all of this charm). The frown was so bad, I believed it would leave a permanent wrinkle.

The mere thought of having a deep wrinkle knocked that doubt shit right out of me. Nothing in this world, and I mean nothing, is worth getting a deep wrinkle over.

Thank you potential wrinkles for scaring some sense into me.

Facts are: The choice is made, actions have been taken to support choice, and unless I want to look like a motherfreakin prune, I better slap on a blank- botox-like face and make this move as easy and breezy as possible. I have always succeeded in anything that I have wanted, I shouldn’t doubt that my move back to New York will be anything less than a success. Moving back, is what I want, it is where I am meant to be, and I will ensure I get there sans wrinkles.






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