I had a brilliant idea to sort our files and get ourselves organized for the year. Yes, I know its October but better late than never, right? Well, it wasn’t better. It was awful. It was piles of paper falling into piles of paper when they got run over by Tigger the Dog. It was me, getting lost in memories in letters I’d saved for reasons unclear to me now and then putting things in the wrong pile and having to sort all over again. It was me, totally overwhelmed by the amount of stuff we keep that doesn’t even rate a thought late at night, stopping and leaving the room, only to coming back and find I’d completely forgotten my sorting system. It was a mess – in more than the obvious way. But in that mess, I found some lovely memories. I found my Kenyan birth certificate filled two days after my birth. And then I found the American birth certificate filled seven months after my birth. Say what you will about Obama, I know they make it freaking difficult to get an American passport without proof of your red, white and blue blood. In my case, seven months worth of difficult! I found this awesome passport photo where I’m pretty sure my hair is the star. I’m not sure how the poor photographer got it all into the picture and then got the staple in just the right place. AND, how pleased do I look at the process of capturing that style on camera for eternity and the amusement of countless customs agents? And, if you’ve not noticed, let me draw your attention to the lovely pair of MENS glasses my then boyfriend/now Husband picked out. It is truly ironic that you can’t see and need glasses to pick out glasses but can’t see to pick out glasses. I found pictures from the Hen night my work buddies threw me when they found out we ran off and got married in Vegas without telling anyone. I found a billion different headshots with as many different hair choices – all of them wrong. So very wrong I am choosing not to share. And I found this, my favorite photo of me on stage. I’ve been acting since I was a kid. Husband would say I act every day but Husband is an ass. Anyway, most of the time I can look at a picture of me and see the process playing across my face. No matter the makeup or wigs or costumes, I can still see ej in the character. Not here. I lost myself in her here.
Today is a new day and I should finish what I’ve started but… I don’t want to. Good thing I’m very good at filling time well spent with things I shouldn’t spend time on. Because today, I want to be that girl.
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AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
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