I have always been a rules champ. I crave direction and plans, and go a little pull out my hair ballistic without properly formatted lists. When I was in preschool we would have different art projects every week and the teachers would always have an example for us to go off of. I took the "example" and copied it down to the very last piece of glitter. Macaroni necklaces formed the perfect rainbow, watercolors were never brown or sloppy and coloring books were not for scribbles, they were meant to be filled in perfectly. This all made for stellar work, but my mother always wondered if there was any sense of creativity in my head. I loved guidelines and boundaries and often had trouble with projects that challenged us to go outside of the box, or those without rules. My report cards reflected this nature, they always began with a positive like "Ali has a great attitude, and is very bright" then they would turn sour with "but does not excel when given no direction, often afraid to try new things." Might as well have read, "your child is a robot. Are you partaking in tiger parenting? Does she speak, have original ideas, is she on serious meds we should know about? Just wondering for our peace of mind..."
If only I knew how true those simple report cards were.
I rebelled silently, at home where no one was watching, or judging. I put on too much blue eyeshadow and wore my Cinderella costume with my Tinkerbell wings. Clearly, we had a real bad ass on our hands. But that was as crazy as it got. Until this happened...
Which led to this...
Essentially, I am a klutzy fool.
If you give a klutz a set of brick stairs and tell her to hurry... you are going to the hospital.
I walked around on my bum foot for two days and then realized that things were ridiculous when it no longer fit into shoes. A trip to the emergency room later and I discovered I had broken three bones in my foot. People always tell you that if you break a bone you know, because there will be tears and excruciating pain and fairies dancing around your head. I half expected my foot to pop up and be like "hey I'm broken stupid, stop abusing me." None of the above actually occurs. I honestly was not in that much pain besides the times when I dumbly bent my foot, which should have been a sign but again, hello stupid. It all hit me when the doctor handed me crutches and a boot and sent me on my way, and suddenly I wanted my mama.
As my foot continued to swell to obese proportions I needed some serious loving and a free netflix subscription. After much blubbering and frantic phone calls to mom and dad I decided that I was ready to go home. As they picked me up from my dorm that I had only just finished unpacking every rule following bone in my body cringed. I felt like a total failure. I was not questioning my major, nor was I the kind of person who took time off of school to party it up, yet suddenly the sirens in my brain were on full rebel alert and I wanted out.
A few days later I am coming to peace with my decision. I have no idea if it is the right one even now. I miss my friends and the dumb things we would do only in each others company and I am really bummed that my new game day dresses are going to sit in my closet for a semester. I look darn cute rocking some crimson and grey.
So thats why I have you now, why I spent a day glitzing up this blog and also why I watched all of the new episodes of Here Comes Honey Boo Boo in a row.
"YOU BETTER REDNECKOGNIZE"
Instead of letting myself drown in my rule fearing mind, I am going to blog up a storm, do some mad crafting (I have so many pinterest projects to complete), and hopefully get my bum foot looking gorgeous again (It is so weird to wear only one shoe, and I feel a little creepy going in public). Maybe I will go to Florida once I can walk again (that sounds so pathetic, hah) run a half marathon, or maybe just discover the magic of a good suntan and some sweet tea.
In the end, I vow to be myself but a better, skinnier, tanner, sassier, more able to say 'yes' version of me.
All aboard the crazy train...