An Open Letter To: Myself

Hey dude-whats up:

You know, you didn't even want to blog tonight, I know what you wanted to do, crawl in the bed and read Kafka again, that's what you do when you feel down. You read Kafka and try to put yourself in the place of Gregor Samsa, lying on your back just as he did, and feeling like you don't belong in your own body. Well, I'm glad you opted to force yourself up and come write, because even though you don't feel like it right now, this will probably make you feel better.

Things are rough right now. You work 40 hours a week, plus an additional 5-10 teaching and preparing for class, you aren't used to that much work, combined with the pregnancy, its a lot. Not to mention that there are still house responsibilites and relationship responsibilites, you feel overwhelmed, and thats okie too, but you can't let this get you down.
Okie, so you can have some nights where you come home and do nothing but eat rich creamy ice cream and drink ginger ale, but you can't do that every night, and you can have some days where you throw your clothes around on the floor and kick shoes just because they are in front of you, but you can't keep that up or you'll never be able to find matching shoes and the fact that when the shoes end up getting the walls dirty pisses you off even more, suggests to me that you need to stop it. Now.

So, lets examine where your feelings of fear are coming from, and yes lets do it in cyberspace where all can see, because after all, this is supposed to liberating.Liberation, your favorite word. Well, there is the fact that you are responsible for bringing a brand new person into the world who will depend on you to teach them, love them, and care for them, for 18+ years, at least. Now, you have worked with kids before, have numerous cousins and have the uncanny ability to recall Mister Rogers' songs ('Your body's special and so is mine,' 'I'm a man, who manufactures, who manufacutues chairs, I'm a man who manufacutures chairs, I'm a man, who manufactures') and you still remember the name of all the creatures from the New Zoo Revue (Freddy, Henrietta, who could forget!) And above all else, no matter what you think, you are caring and compassionate and you've secretly wanted this for a very long time.

What else is there? Oh yeah, the PhD. Not to fear...you just got an email today from a PhD mom today who gave you tons of support and encouragement. You will no doubt have some very hard days, and some very good days. You will have days where you cry and stomp and throw books (much to the chagrin of baby I'm sure). And you will ponder the question, "Why the hell am I doing this?" But you know why. You know exactly why, everything you've done up to this point has guided you in this direction, to complete this degree and to work and to teach and to research and to help other folks out there who need it. You were given the ability to communicate and write and to show others how to do that and just why its such an important thing. What does my umi say? Let your light shine.

Why does moving bother you so? Because you've never done it before. You have never been out of a 10-15 mile radius of Terminal Avenue. That would be scary for anyone, but you got to break out of this, what are you going to teach your kid? You have to lead by example now, no more looking to others to do the dirty work for you. You are not leaving them forever, and hopefully once school is over and you have this degree behind you, you will be able to choose to come back closer to home, because you will actually have the ability to be competitive for jobs. Imagine, people might actually want to hear about your research interests, and you can talk about McLuhan and Burke until they run out of your ears.

And finaly, its easy to get discouraged, and its okie to cry, and to read Kafka, but you gotta pull yourself up too. Let your passion take you over again. You've got a very important person that you need to prepare for now, and part of that prepartion involves getting your own self in check. All you can do is the best you can with what you've got right now.

Now, if you still wanna read Kafka and pretend to be a roach, go right ahead, but I'd suggest listening to Mos and doing a two step.

Peace-
ilnizzzah

its raining its pouring

and i'm bout to be snoring.

There's a good rain tonight, a cool misty one, the kind that makes you want to nestle in your bed and go to sleep. I finally had enough energy to do the dishes and clean my living room, WITHOUT stretching out on the sofa afterwards. Went to the drs today and they even moved my due-date up, by three days, but still that's a bit sooner! The dr also said my morning sickness should be over and my energy level returning, thank heavens.
Had another ultrasound today and the baby didn't like it, only 14 weeks old and it was shaking its head no, we could see it moving back and forth as the dr would press down on my stomach.
Fiesty.
I love it!

Week 13 Doctor Visit

This was the first visit I had where I was actually able to meet the doctor and both H and I were especially happy. He spent a good amount of time sitting down and talking with us about how things were progressing so far. He actually delievered one of my other doctor's babies so immediately I felt at ease with him.

Apparently, there was some problem with two-different due dates being listed on my chart so we got to do another ultra-sound. The baby did NOT like this idea at all. As the doctor pressed down on my tummy with the wand, the baby moved and shook his/her head. Now, I know this was not a voluntary movement (they don't start that until the end of the second trimester), but still how adorable! How fiesty!

So You Wanna Be Startin' Something?

I can remember a time when Michael Jackson was my everything. I had posters, stickers, jackets, gloves, records, and I even did a curl in my hair (though I must admit that came much later than when Micheal did his). But tonight, I'm feeling nostalgic and listening to the Thriller cd and allowing myself to get swept away in 1980s Michael, when the weird things about him were actually cute.
I find that I get in these moods of wanting to go back or remember old things when I feel most down during the present. I'm very unhappy with work, worried about the upcoming move I've got and am just going through so many changes at once that I feel like my head is spinning, but I remember a time when I would go to Pizza Hut on Friday night, listen to MJ on the jukebox, eat pepperoni pizza, drink coke, and everything was ok. I know I was a kid and I know that life is complex and blah blah freaking blah, but I just find those memories so comforting right now. At a time where there is just so much going on and I feel so not comfortable, I think about things like those Pizza Hut nights.
But its weird how memories can come dancing back in your head, sometimes you look for them and sometimes they come on their own. Another example, today I went to McDonald's (I know, but hey, I'm three months pregnant, thats my excuse) anyways I was taking a sip of my iced tea and there was just something about the straw and the drink that took me years back. McDonald's has always used really wide straws with the yellow and red on the sides (I think I got the colors right, correct me if I'm wrong). But the tea and the straw just made me think about going to McDonald's as a kid after school. And all these memories rushed back, in no particular order: eating after school at my gma's house, my grandpa's truck, dancing to MJ, playing in the backyard. I love it when things like that happen, but only when the good ones come rushing back.

Big Timers

When I was about 7 or 8 my dad won the lottery. The BIG lottery. He's always been one who enjoys gambling, though he never did it at the expense of the family, he only used extra money he got from side jobs. Well, he'd take the bus up to Atlantic City, do the casinos and on the way back buy lottery tickets where ever the bus would stop off. I don't remember, but I think it was a Maryland ticket he bought that won.
The night we found out he'd just come home from a 3-11 shift and his eyes were bigger than usual. My mom and he were in the kitchen and I must have wandered in to the conversation. He had a cig tilted out the side of his mouth, my mom was at the table, he was leaning against the sink. Now, most people if they'd just found out that they'd won the lottery would be totally amped, jumping up and down, planning vacations, new cars, homes, etc. But not my dad, no sir-ree-bob, not my pops. He was preparing his stratagy. He was planning on how we'd break the news to everyone, when and where we'd relocate to, and how we'd need protection from would-be kidnappers and thieves. Strategy.
The next day we went to visit my grandfather (dad's dad) and I remember on the way over to my grandparents house my dad did most of the talking, still strategies about his next move. At my grandparents (and for some reason it was sweltering in there, I felt so sick I thought I'd pass out) he and my grandfather went upstairs to continue talking while my mom and I were downstairs. When we left it was decided that we would tell NO ONE until we knew how much the winnings were.
A day later (and a dollar short, and I mean that quite literally) we found out that so many people hit the jackpot and the lesser prizes that our slice was not hardly anything to warrant kidnappers coming after us.
I don't think as a kid I ever really grasped how much that would have changed everything, where I went to school, who I met, what I do now. I rarely even think about what happened or what could have happened, not unless I'm trying to think of a funny story to tell friends and entertain people. Or, when I play the lottery.

I'm an administrative Ass

Just in case you wondered what my job title was:

Administrative Ass.

Tree and the Library

Tree asks the question:

"Which books do you hate that you're supposed to like? or Which books are you afraid to admit to not liking?"

Well I wanna start with my top fav "classic" books of all time(s):

To Kill a Mockingbird
Heart of Darkenss *most bestest*
The Scarlet Letter

Now the ones that I didn't like but pretended to like because I thought all English majors HAD to like them:

-Anything Dickens
-The Brontes
-Moby Dick (didn't even read it)
-Faulkner, yes I said it, Faulkner

This is liberating!!!!!

rent-a-Negro

I saw this author, damali ayo, read from her book How To Rent a Negro on CSPAN this weekend. I have to admit, at first I didn't get it, but after looking over the website, this is just hilarious.

If you got to the website there is an actual order form so that you can rent your own negro. She even lists all the different events and uses for your rental negro. My personal favorite is the Informational rent-a-negro section:

"Informational "I want to know more about being black, so do my friends and colleagues. It always seems like I say the wrong things when I meet black people. I just want to learn, help!"

I went to a predominately white high school and always felt like I had to be what I call la voce de los Negroes de world, or the voice for all the black folk in the world. (Pardon my chopped language skills) I remember whenever anything happened to a black person people would turn to me in class and say things like, "Do you feel the same?" "I'm sorry about slavery, this makes me sad!" or "Did you know him/her?" That last comment was the most priceless one.

In my senior year I took AP government and some Black government official (don't remember who) died. During class the teacher announced it and then turned to me and personally apologized. I was like, "um, okay, but I didn't know this person." And she goes, "oh, but what a loss for your people." Just priceless.

A lot of times though people had a hard time with me in high school. They couldn't understand how I can tote Malcolm X's autobiography in one hand and rock out to Dave Matthew Band all at the same time. I love dichotomies. I think that it was because I went to a predominately White school that I became a strong person and learned a lot about race issues. For the most part there were no horrible events or name-calling situations, but there were tense moments, like the year during Black History month when I wanted all the Black folks to come to school wearing dark shades and black berets, but other than that things were pretty smooth.

Then, came college. I went from a very small private Catholic High School to a large state University. Diversity was er-where. And in a good way, but it did make me question myself a lot more. All of a sudden I saw all kinds of brown folks from all over, and I didn't quite know how I fit in. My experience of being Black in America was vastly different from some of the other people I met. While I felt like I had good practice in explaining Black things to non-Black people, I also realized that there were lots of Black things/experiences I hadn't had and that there was no ONE Black experience.

Things changed even more when in my sophomore year I met my husband. I never had an issue with dating people from various backgrounds, but I'd also not dated a whole lot either. DH is White and when we first started talking I was just happy to have someone to talk to who wasn't trying to jump in my pants after the first week. We talked and talked and talked and I was amazed that I didn't have to explain "Black stuff" to him, we connected on a level that I'd never connected w/ anyone one before in my life. My family loved him, especially my granny who always told me that a man should be a couple of years older and a couple of inches taller (he satisfied both requirements nicely). Never once did my family talk about his white-ness, it just was not an issue.

After we'd been going out for a couple of months and talking on a pretty regular basis DH confided in me that his family was a bit bothered my brownness. At first I didn't sweat it, I'd had friends in high school who had parents/grandparents like that and for the most part, they were nice (fake) when I met them and that was it. Well, we weren't planning on getting married or anything (lol) at the time, so I didn't think too much of it. Then, it became a problem. We'd have to do two birthday parties (I couldn't come to his) and split Christmas (he'd be w/ his folks and then come over to be with mine). Sometimes it would make me so angry, especially b/cs of the fact that these people knew NOTHING about me. NOTHING. Except that I was brown and a woman, so who knows, they prolly thought I was a jezabel.

Once or twice I would randomly met them, they'd stop by his house and I'd be there, or we'd 'happen' upon them and I never felt so ignored in all my life. I mean I felt like I was invisible. Invisible, like my skin, my bones, my eyes, my soul did not exist in front of them. Once, we were at the mall and saw one of his cousins. The cousin came up to DH and started to talk, I turned around the corner, the cousin saw me and RAN out of the store, never looking back. Guess that's what a spook does.

But time went on and we were serious and the love I had (and have) for him outweighed the ignorance. So we started planning a wedding. Not knowing who would come or what it would become, we didn't know if there would be a royal rumble or the celebration we truly wanted. Eventually, magically almost, and I mean wand-magic style, DH's family came around (well, some of them) and they started to participate in the planning events for the wedding. At times this was a bit awkward because it was like first they were off, then they were on and no one ever mentioned the off period. Ever.

So now, with a baby on the way, I think about all this again. Especially because now I feel motherly instincts kicking in and I don't want anyone to say or do anything to my child or else I'll have to pull out my Crouching Tiger techniques. But I wonder, I just wonder what this child will face and have to deal with. I know that at home, in my house there will be nothing but love and constant reassurance that you are a HUMAN first, and the other stuff people may use to define you but you don't have to buy into that. Is it possible to do that, or is this wishful thinking?

Its not easy being green

The past two days have been a bit rough for me. The combination of pregnancy-morning craziness-work-teaching-and trying to orchestrate a grand move alongside the grand entrance of un bebe is driving me crazy.

I feel like I've got so much to do, and that's because I do have so much to do. The one class I'm teaching is reaching a critical point in the semester which means I have to dedicate more time to them. Work is going okay, but I'm just not accustomed to being in one place for so long each day. Anybody seen the movie Office Space? I'm the guy who beats up the copier. Working in an office is very different from what I did in the past, very different. There are certain things I've had to learn and things I'm trying to learn. I have found though, that I do prefer the classroom. As for the morning stuff- I spoke to soon when I said that I was feeling tons better. Yesterday morning was rough and this morning was even rougher. I just wake up with this miserable green feeling in my stomach and mouth ( I know that's weird, but I associate feelings with color, so bear with me). Its not until about 9 or 10 AM that I actually feel better, like a normal functioning person. This makes it very hard b/cs I have to get to work by 8AM and most nights I'm not able to go to bed until 10 or 11. On the rare occasion that I can go to sleep at 8 or 9, I wake up feeling much better.

But, this to shall pass, or that's what the books tell me.

I need a vacation. In a nice warm climate. With good cold iced tea. And good books. And a huge plate of fried chicken with honey b-b-que sauce and a side of collard greens with vinegar. And brownies and chocolate cake for dessert. Oh, and a pot pie would be nice.

An Open Letter to Those Folks Who Write Pregnancy Books

Hello,
I am writing because your books are pissing me off. You might chalk that up to whatever chapter you have on being 'hormonal' and having 'mood swings' but I beg to differ. I'm just pissed. I'm angry because lots of what you say is very difficult for women like me to do. Who am I you may ask? Well let me try to give you a mental picture:

-I am a woman in her late twenties.
-I work a full time job and a part time job in order to be able to afford decent housing conditions.
-I have a husband who also works a full time job and goes to school full time.
-I do not have a maid, nor do I have members of my family who can come over and clean and cook for me because most of them work full time jobs with families.
-I am educated and I do want a healthy baby and pregnancy but I think that some of the information given and some of the folks who have pregnancy related courses are full of pooh.

Now, why pray tell do I think that way? Well, the fact remains that some of the advice given is good, very good, and extremely useful, but some of the suggestions given are not for us working folk.

For example, 'take frequent naps to avoid feeling tired during the first trimester.' How is someone who works 8-5 supposed to do this? I mean honestly, yes the solution makes sense. If you are tired, then take a nap. But its not feasible for working folk to do that.

Also, another favorite, 'take yoga and exercise classes to help your body,' well that's just fine and freakin' dandy but most of the classes are offered during the week during the day! Who may I ask is this catered to? Not working folk. I was fortunate enough to find a yoga center that actually has Saturday prenatal classes (but there is only ONE).

I'm not angry b/cs I have to work (which I know some people might think) but I am angry that some of this stuff presupposes that you aren't working, or can flex your time so that you can participate.

Where are the books on the working woman's guide to pregnancy? Where fore-art-thou?

And I am NOT hormonal.
I hate that word.

Women in Academia

My dear friend at Cheese & Responsibility has posted a response to my response, well really to the article I blogged about on 10/5/05 "oh my gosh this is so cool," and I feel a need to post more about it b/cs the posting by Tree of Knowledge does a much better job of elaborating on the problem and how this proposed solution would/could/would not/ work.

Tree of Knowledge is right on with this idea:

"I mean, mothers have a tangible excuse - a child that depends on them and a culture that believes that mothers should be primary care givers. But doesn't the same problem exist for women who are not mothers and men, both fathers and not? Doesn't the rigors of academia break up marriages and turn relatively stable people into alcoholics? Isn't there this, often true, stereotype of professors being absent minded and out of touch with reality? Haven't we all been to department parties where no one has fun because all anyone has time for is their research? We're (I'm including non-tenure track profs and grad students in this) trained to believe that we are supposed to devote ourselves to our research for the rest of our lives, but why?"

I agree, and this new rule/idea is not going to change that. The Ivory Towers have long been associated with folk who don't know what 'real life' is like (or some who are perceived to not care), long hours, and the idea that you must sell your soul and anything else you've got in order to gain a seat at this table. We are trained to believe that research and publication is the end goal and that you sacrafice whatever you need to sacrafice in order to get there. I believe thats why some folks do get divorces, don't have kids (even if they once wanted), and don't know how to use a copy machine. *(see note below) In lots of ways academia does remove you from the 'real world'. After graduate school, where you've spent anywhere from 4-8 years working on a research project, if you are fortunate enough you will go into a tenure track job as an assistant professor. Once there it is your duty to balance the following: more than likely, a new move, new professors, new department (new orders to learn), new teaching responsibilityes for new courses you've not taught, and you have to start thinking in terms of your publication and service to the university and community. Thats quite a load. Now, figure that most folks are in their early 3os at least when they finish and you've got a host of other issues to put into the mix (partners, kids, aging parents, etc).

I don't know who academia was created for, but with the way things are going some things will need to change. I see this new idea of part-time tenue as a very small step, but hopefully one in the right direction.

Tree of Knowledge also writes:

"We should not have to decide between family and work. That is a choice that isn't even plausible. It pisses me off so much that women have been forced to make this decision for years and derided regardless of which choice they make. It pisses me off that men have never even been given the choice. How many men do you know who gave up work for kids? This is one reason why I knew I wanted to marry Husband; I suggested that he stay home and raise the kids while I worked, and he said ok."

Again, this is choice I've dreaded and its mainly because I actually thought I had to make a choice. In some ways you do, but in other ways I think we can try to control this. I know that for many women (in and outside of academia) there are times when things at work have to slip or slide by because of whats going on at home, but I don't see this as being neglectful to your work. Though some might try to argue that, but b/cs society has impressed upon us that the mother needs to care for the children many of us do this, and some of this do this just because there is no one else to help. Not every woman is fortunate enough to have a partner who will take some of the 'home front' responsibilities that are typically viewed as women's work. Like Tree of Knoweledge, I'm so fortunate that my husband supports my education, my work, and my childbearing choices.

As a mother-to-be and a PhD-to-be these are all issues that keep me up at night, really they do. I've had conversations with folks from all walks of life to get views, opinions, and advice, but what it all boils down to is that you have to learn to separate yourself from some of those demands imposed upon you by allthose outside forces ('academics, husbands, wives, publishers, moms, dads, uncles, grannys, or as my good friend lil'John says, "er-body").


*I have found that some professors are so into their research they forget about things like: how to use a copy machine to make one copy, how to say hello when someone speaks to you, and my all time favorite, how to call people by the CORRECT name.

blog

how come when you do a spell check, if you have 'blog' in your post, the spell check doesn't reconginize it? It wants you to say: bloc or bloch or blows or bloke?

you'd think that a blog would have blog.

u got blog?

oh my gosh....this is way cool

So one of the things that I often think about because I so badly want a career in academia, is the fact that I also want to be a mother, wife, and human (not saying you CAN'T be). I just mean to say, I want to be able to pursue other interests as well.
Going to school for a Phd is challenging enough, but once you finish there is still the ye ole tenure that you must try to obtain if you want to settle yourself into a research place/space.
This article explores how many universities are trying to change their policies to allow women more flexibility.
Some might argue (and I've actually heard this said) that it should all be 'equal' (that word is a sticky one). By equal, at least in this particular instance, the person meant, if men have to have 5 years of continuous service, publication, etc then women should to. Okie, I don't disagree, but the fact is, men can have children (if the choose) and not get penalized for it, if a women does then often times b/cs there is no maternity leave worked into the system (at least not a formal version) they have to take a leave and sometimes this does affect their tenure.

It seems like the plan this article described would extend itself to helping a lot of folks at different stages in their lives:

"Part-time policies are designed to appeal to fathers, people with
aging parents, and professors nearing retirement. Still, many proponents see
mothers as the prime audience."

The article does go on to say that things aren't perfect with this new system:

"The part-time schedule makes it hard for her to keep up with everything. It took her two years to help a student turn his master's thesis into a publishable paper because she could never find a few days for the project. She doesn't have time to travel to give seminars that would burnish her reputation, and she wonders whether, over the long term, her career will have a lower trajectory than it might have had"

*** **** *** ***

I don't know, I'd like to think that with more women entering the 'world o academia' things would change, but will they? What if some folks don't want them to change (including women)? I don't know...I have lots of feelings on this subject, as a mom-to-be, I'd like to think that my having children now, or in the future or whenever won't affect my academic career, but I also think that in the back of my head I'd just 'accepted' that it might. One of the reasons I enjoyed teaching in a community college and had thought about doing it long-term, post Phd, is because there is not a great amount of emphasis placed on the notion of 'publish' or 'perish'. But I do love my research and would love to have a schedule (and funding) that would allow me to research, write, present, and publish. Here goes that question/problem I've always seemed to have with balance.

I'm interested in hearing what others think on this... and be sure to check out the article from the Boston Globe.

What is your Blogging Voice?

In my discipline (composition and rhetoric) -can I actually claim a discipline yet, that sounds so scholarly-anyways, in comp and rhet we talk about voice. When students write we ask them to put their voice on paper, with some exceptions of course, or modifications. There are books on how to find your voice and tons of different pedagological approaches. What I notice, in my own writing is that my voice is not consistent, I change things based on the audience I'm writing for. Well, this is a kind of -duh- statement for most folks, but I'm puzzled by the blogging voice.

Some people, myself included, start a blog without a real audience or purpose. I started this blog this past summer because I'd been reading blogs like dooce and academic blogs as well. I wanted to find a way to put my thoughts out there, but really didn't keep up with it and I think one of the reasons for that was because no one (aside from a random stranger) was reading my blog. Now, I write in a journal almost every day and I do that religiously even though no one is going to read it, so whats the difference?
--> For me, one difference is that my voice in the journal is not my voice on the blog. My journal voice is much more personal, unreserved, uninhibited, hell who's gonna read it! But, the blog is different, even though I didn't think I had any readership/audience, there was still that chance. And even now, that I have a small circle of blogging friends, I find the same holds true, I write, but I think I have a different voice.

Does my blogging voice sound like my 'real' voice?
And as my dear husband would ask, does it matter?

Things that Make me Feel Good inside

*When former students come back and say 'thank you'.
* When the dogs snuggle in the bed and don't try to eat the pillows or blankets.
* Reading something good.
*Reading something good I wrote (this doesn't happen very often).
* Taking walks in the fall.
*The fact that I've actually consistently written in this blog-o-sphere place.

If your happy and you know it...

I loved that song when I was a kid, "If your happy and you know it, clap your hands!" (clap) (clap)

Its too bad that as adults we don't do more showing how happy we are, especially at work. Maybe thats because for most of us, work is not a place where we are happy. I think about all of the sacrafices my parents made for us (my bro and I) and I'm amazed, but I'm learning to see and understand them. My dad worked for 30 some years in a job that I'm sure at times he didn't give a fuzzy rat's ass about, but he did it so my bro and I could go to great schools. Just imagine though, what it would be like if you were able to work, love it, and get paid ( a fair wage)for what you do. Can that happen? Is it possible!

I think about that a LOT now, especially because I'm now working in a field that really isn't my area of choice. But I do it because I have to do right now and I'm okie with that. But I do dream about one day having the job I really want.

Modest dressing

This post from Tree of Knowledge made me think about the changes in style/dress I've gone through. Now, I went to private school K-12 which meant I wore The Uniform. Plaid skirt, peter pan color white shirt, white socks (knee-hi in K-4), brown shoes, no fancy hair/make up/jewlery. I didn't mind it that much because its just something I always did, however when I went to college I went from one extreme to the other.

Freshman: tight fitting, tried hard to wear what was 'in' on a K-mart budget this was very hard and it meant that I usually just looked like I was trying to hard on a K-mart budget.

Sophomore: didn't give a frrrrruck. sweats, sandals w/ socks, jeans, t-shirts, tennis shoes. I really didn't care, but sometimes I still liked to dress up and look a little 'girly'.

Junior: MODEST to the nth degree. went through a bit of a stage where i didn't want to show anyone anything. long skirts, long sleeve shirts, loose pants, etc.

Senior: Modestly modest. what does that mean? I continued with my modest dress but dried to look more stylish and less like a gray blob (all my clothes were gray or black or brown).

Grad School Year one: Modest, w/out the caring of being stylish

Grad School Year two: too busy trying to figure out my thesis, didn't care what I wore. The first new outfit I bought I got for my thesis defense. Ha! And it was all black.

As w/ lots in my life I tend to move in extremes, from one side to the other first all the way over here, then all the way over there. Now, I kinda have to look 'decent' because of where I work, but I don't think I'll ever go back to the pre-modesty stage (not unless I become one of those moms who wears the real hip clothes to her kids school functions, doubt it though). I think the more aware and comfortable with my body I became, the more I felt like I didn't have to show it to anyone. Its mine, and I respect it this way. Thats not to say that there is anything wrong if you like wearing short skirts or shorts, or whatever, but this is just where I am most comfortable. Sometimes DH says I dress too old, or blah, but it has taken me years to be able to get to the this point of dressing and being able to say, I don't give a fuzzy rats ass what anyone else wears, this is what I like.

So, if I want to wear a white-t fresh from the white-t man, or a Polo shirt, I rock what I wanna rock.

Nuff said.