Last night while waiting for my order at my neighborhood Chinese restaurant, I took a quiz in a Seventeen magazine (there was a pile of them on the counter), and then was disappointed with the results. According to my score, I am "edgy" like Rihanna, I think because I decided my go-to fall accessory is a leather jacket. Nothing against Rihanna (though, admittedly, I am so out of touch, I had to google how to spell her name), but "edgy" just didn't seem quite right. I retook the quiz, this time with my go-to fall accessory as a cozy sweater, but then my results were "girly" like Chloe Grace Moretz, and that seemed even more categorically not me. Though, sometimes I am girly; I do love a floral print. And, I suppose, sometimes I am edgy, or am I just on edge? I guess what I'm getting at is this: the quizzes in Seventeen magazine are crap. Also, at 32-and-a-half I still am not sure what I'm all about. I can list all the things I like and all the things I'm like, but what it boils down to, I don't know. My personality is and always has been that oddest of combinations: completely malleable and chameleon while also etched, deep, in stone. I've changed a lot since the days when the quizzes in Seventeen actually meant something, and then, also, I have not changed even a little bit. When I tell my husband I wish we'd known each other when we were teenagers he says, "You wouldn't have liked me then. I wasn't nice then. I've changed so much," and I say, "I haven't changed at all. I was exactly the same back then, but, you know, my boobies were way up here."
I am, in part, writing this now because I don't know what I want from this space. I was greeted with an empty white text box and could not think how to fill it. I've been trucking along at this blog for years now, with little-to-no audience and little-to-no clue what message I'm trying to convey. Is this a sincere blog of gratitude, or one of those snarky blogs that honestly documents each time my kid uses a cuss word and I laugh? I am pretty sincerely irreverent (and insincerely reverent). I considered having Wolfman take my style photos for me this year, stepping up my style blogger game a bit, but then the idea seemed totally ridiculous to me. I may change my mind about it later. I know he'd be game, because he's a good guy now (not like the douche he apparently was as a teenager). We shall see. Happy New Year. Happy Old Blog. Happy Old/New Me.