I Must Maintain My Sexy

While I did want to visit Anita (someone who was really there for me even after our awkward high school “falling out”), my other reason for going to the other side of the country was for a personal awakening. It’s a journey, really.

I’m a journalist working as a Web master-slash-marketing coordinator-slash-graphic artist-slash … I can consider myself (still) a writer because I freelance for MSN and AOL. I write about education and careers — about how one can “succeed.” And I just laugh as I tell people how to achieve great things when I, myself, haven’t even reached my dream.

So what is my ultimate goal, you ask? I don’t know. So in hoping to land something I love, I just stew in the most comfortable pair of sneakers I’ve ever worn. And the best part is, they match everything in my closet — my skinny jeans, my sweats, even that mini my mother frowns at on sight.

I just think to myself, maybe getting far away from it all (even if it’s just the hills for the weekend) will evoke something in me. Maybe I’ll get clarity, maybe it’ll ignite a change, or maybe I’ll just have some fun.

Well, I’m home now. And while I did have fun over the weekend — drinking, buying yet another pair of “dreamer heels” (that’s what I call the shoes I wear with hesitation because they pain me), socializing, sightseeing — clarity was not had, change was not ignited, nothing was evoked.

I did, however, perfect the formal search procedure at Newark Airport. (Why am I always flagged?) They even dusted some weird solution on my Chuck Taylors, and threatened to confiscate my Proactiv! And to that, I replied, “But sir, I must maintain my sexy.”

That got a laugh, and security let me keep my three-step face regimen.


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January 2008
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