Identity Crisis Du Jour

"The question of whether human consciousness can exist outside the body remains unanswered, but at least you and your trusty Thermos gave it a good try."

Where to begin, where to begin....Isn't it peculiar how most phrases have that extra je ne sais pas when repeated? So there I was (I also rather enjoy beginning a sentence as though I were continuing a previous conversation ;) ), it's 2am - I have just put Dr. Snicks back to bed after fetching him the 2nd or so beverage to further encourage his peeing on me with great delight - and something occurs to me....I have no idea who I am. It's one of those peskily awkward moments akin to reaching for a response to "What do you do for a living?" while riding an elevator to the 22nd floor. Come now, I'm sure I'm not the only one that happens to....

A happy-go-lucky girl always dressed in black? Hmmm... and yet I juggle this description around the simple fact that I am a kaleidoscope-loving-drag-queen-wanna-be. I giggle at memories of boldly stating I was born in the wrong place & time... "I was meant to be of legal drinking age in 1920's Cuba", I proudly blurt out. Mind you, this was based on little more research than a quick snippet about the "Roaring 20's" in some shabby history book coupled with a strange fascination with Desi Arnaz and his bongo-playing antics. For all I knew, this could have been a horribly oppressive tick along that ever-fluid timeline.

I'm sure many of you also recall my declaration that when (if) I grow up, I shall play bongos on the beach in the nude and live on my love for the land. In my head, I was apparently the very cartoon that adorns my upper arm - and about as anatomically correct as a Snork... all that sand and seawater washing into unmentionable places hardly sounds like a fantasy.....Additionally, these visions clearly contained the convenience of not needing any real sustenance to survive.

The cornucopial epitome of all the bits & pieces influencing my life to date. Aren't we all? And yet, I'm perplexed.... Am I a tiger mom, or simply a short-fused pile of exhaustion at the end of a hectic day? An introvert or misunderstood and hypersensitive? Unique or simply alien to those I'm surrounded by? Need I go on?

Purely rhetorical, My Pets :). I've been "called out" more than once on the quirky notions I've clung to (I still maintain I'm 5'6" and I've never danced on a table while intoxicated). On one hand, I am blessed with the attention span/memory retention of a hummingbird so I can always plead the 5th and/or insanity (and boy, do I ever). ***On a quick side note, this leads me to believe I'd make a brilliant politician***....However, it is becoming evident that I simply choose a stance with about as much effort as throwing a dart in the general direction of the board. I decided to believe in the existence of imps immediately after procuring a book about goblins based on Labyrinth (which, not so coincidentally marked the beginning of an unhealthy attachment to David Bowie). I now keep an eye out for forest spirits thanks to the brilliant works of Miyazaki....

Where is this all going? Fear not, my train of thought derailed somewhere back around the second sentence... Oddly enough I do have a bit of a summary for all the rambling, though - I'm beginning to be comfortable in my own skin. Odd, yet unique. Whoever Annie turns into tomorrow, I'm confident she'll still laugh hysterically at shadow puppets, adore all things glitter, and answer to "HEY, BITCH!" :)

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Kitty

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Identity Crisis Du Jour

"The question of whether human consciousness can exist outside the body remains unanswered, but at least you and your trusty Thermos gave it a good try."

Where to begin, where to begin....Isn't it peculiar how most phrases have that extra je ne sais pas when repeated? So there I was (I also rather enjoy beginning a sentence as though I were continuing a previous conversation ;) ), it's 2am - I have just put Dr. Snicks back to bed after fetching him the 2nd or so beverage to further encourage his peeing on me with great delight - and something occurs to me....I have no idea who I am. It's one of those peskily awkward moments akin to reaching for a response to "What do you do for a living?" while riding an elevator to the 22nd floor. Come now, I'm sure I'm not the only one that happens to....

A happy-go-lucky girl always dressed in black? Hmmm... and yet I juggle this description around the simple fact that I am a kaleidoscope-loving-drag-queen-wanna-be. I giggle at memories of boldly stating I was born in the wrong place & time... "I was meant to be of legal drinking age in 1920's Cuba", I proudly blurt out. Mind you, this was based on little more research than a quick snippet about the "Roaring 20's" in some shabby history book coupled with a strange fascination with Desi Arnaz and his bongo-playing antics. For all I knew, this could have been a horribly oppressive tick along that ever-fluid timeline.

I'm sure many of you also recall my declaration that when (if) I grow up, I shall play bongos on the beach in the nude and live on my love for the land. In my head, I was apparently the very cartoon that adorns my upper arm - and about as anatomically correct as a Snork... all that sand and seawater washing into unmentionable places hardly sounds like a fantasy.....Additionally, these visions clearly contained the convenience of not needing any real sustenance to survive.

The cornucopial epitome of all the bits & pieces influencing my life to date. Aren't we all? And yet, I'm perplexed.... Am I a tiger mom, or simply a short-fused pile of exhaustion at the end of a hectic day? An introvert or misunderstood and hypersensitive? Unique or simply alien to those I'm surrounded by? Need I go on?

Purely rhetorical, My Pets :). I've been "called out" more than once on the quirky notions I've clung to (I still maintain I'm 5'6" and I've never danced on a table while intoxicated). On one hand, I am blessed with the attention span/memory retention of a hummingbird so I can always plead the 5th and/or insanity (and boy, do I ever). ***On a quick side note, this leads me to believe I'd make a brilliant politician***....However, it is becoming evident that I simply choose a stance with about as much effort as throwing a dart in the general direction of the board. I decided to believe in the existence of imps immediately after procuring a book about goblins based on Labyrinth (which, not so coincidentally marked the beginning of an unhealthy attachment to David Bowie). I now keep an eye out for forest spirits thanks to the brilliant works of Miyazaki....

Where is this all going? Fear not, my train of thought derailed somewhere back around the second sentence... Oddly enough I do have a bit of a summary for all the rambling, though - I'm beginning to be comfortable in my own skin. Odd, yet unique. Whoever Annie turns into tomorrow, I'm confident she'll still laugh hysterically at shadow puppets, adore all things glitter, and answer to "HEY, BITCH!" :)

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