Stuck in the Middle

“I’m too young to be old, and too old to be young. Maybe I’m just goin’ crazy!”
-Evelyn Couch, “Fried Green Tomatoes”


I'm having serious identity issues lately. My whole life has been this kind of tug-o-war between two poles. I’m pretty sure it’s a Gemini thing, since we see everything with two sets of eyes, essentially. We are “dual citizens” of the astrological world, if you will. A Gemini sees everything from two sides, form two (often opposite) opinions on things, and as such can be opinionated but sympathetic.

Sound confusing? Okay, well, try being one.

“Behold the living dichotomy!” I used to like to say of myself. Growing up I was always stuck somewhere in the middle between accepting groups. For example, as a young teenager with my strict parents, Garfield book bag, and non-designer jeans, I was too much of a nerd for the cool kids – but my cigarette smoking, recreational drug use, concert t-shirts, and headbanging made me too cool for the nerds. I’ve always been too dorky to be cool, too cool to be a dork, too smart to be a dumb kid, too dumb to be a “brain.” I never quite fit in anywhere.

Even my body is a betrayal to itself. I’ve never been fat enough to be a “BBW,” but never thin enough to be considered “skinny.” But then again by most shallow men’s standards I’m fat no matter what I weigh. And my height? Oh, forget it. I’m just under 5’5”, like 5’4-5/8” or something. Just screwy enough that I’m too tall to be petite, but too short to be average. So all my pants are too long or too short. And since I usually opt for too long, most of them have dirty, torn hems from being dragged under my feet. I used to remedy this by wearing heels to compensate for the height:inseam issue, but man, I walk all day long now. No way am I sporting the 3- and 4-inch heels anymore!

Now that I’m back in school, the issues are becoming even more noticeable to me. I’m in classes with a bunch of 18- and 19-year-olds, and the girls are nubile and scantily clad, the guys are sideburned and hiply dressed…and I’m sure they’re all looking at me in my nondescript Old Navy and Target clothes, my “I insist that I’m still young enough to clip my bangs back” hairdo, and my slightly sagging face and thinking, “wow, that lady looks like my mom.” Even if I had the body to wear that kind of Abercrompostale stuff they all wear (which I never will, unless I win a spot on “Extreme Makeover,”), I’d look ridiculous – like I was trying to be something I’m not.

So how should I dress? Jeez, I don’t know! My typical “uniform” is a button-up shirt or a t-shirt, jeans, funky socks, and black Mary Janes. Sometimes I wear dress pants or khakis or even sometimes a skirt, but gone are the days of day-in-day-out business casual. It’s mostly denim these days. And while I swore I wouldn't do this, I have worn sweats to class on a couple occasions.

The hair is usually clipped back on the side to prevent the bangs from falling in my face. Jewelry is worn to a minimum – one or two rings, a necklace, a couple of earrings (not all 12 that my ears are pierced for), occasionally a bracelet. I’m thinking lately that I’m going to start wearing the nosering again – simply because I can.

I'm also thinking I need more ink. Too bad money's such an issue right now, or I'd get started on that backpiece that James always said would be the dealbreaker in our relationship.

This is a stupid entry, now that I look at it. I don't really know what the point was, other than to mull over my identity issues and try and work them out somehow through writing about them. It didn't work. I'm still confused. And I'm still stuck in the middle.

Blar.

But hey - I lost 23 pounds!