(passive subject)

Wow, what a week.  I have ultimately decided I spread myself way, way, way too thin.   I have a friend.  He is one of my favorites in this life.  He used to tell me all the time that I care too much what others think about me.  I always argued back and had some idealistic response like, “Why wouldn’t you though, I mean if I can change a negative perception of me to a positive, why wouldn’t I?”  I stand behind this.  I dated a guy during my days at LSU he said, I summed my life up to a series of cliches, and was idealistic.  I argued back, “It’s not a cliche if it is true.  It is not idealistic if I can make it happen.”   He also told me I would have a heart attack by the time I was 30, if I do, he will have played a major part. 😉 What always bothered me about their assessments was not that they made them, but that they summed me up to these things, like I was a one trick pony.  I am not.  I am like a bucket of buttons. 

03172009-002Buttons are all buttons.  They all do the same thing, but don’t sum a button up to just being a button. They are all different. They come in many shapes and sizes and colors.  Buttons only work if there is thread.  They can only hold two things together if the thread they are sewn on with is sturdy and strong.  I recently found a bag of buttons that was in my Nana’s old sewing machine. I put them all in a basket and swore I would do something great with them. I am working on making this lamp with them. It is a wierd process, but I wanted the buttons to be able to just chill out among grout and glue and never have to feel like they are responsible for holding things together. It is time for the buttons to rest. They lived a long good life, and now they just get to rest.  Alas I digress….this ultimately is about me 😉

My life as a button. I have felt my entire life has been summed up to one thing. Holding any given two pieces of my life together at one time.  Sometimes my thread is strong and sometimes it just bursts, leaving me the button on the floor with thread still weaving in ant out of me but holding on to nothing.  The thing is though, I am more than a button, sometimes I am the zipper, sometimes I just close it up and walk away.  Sometimes, I am velcro and I make lots and lots of noise if you try to tear me away from something that I believe in(I am not the silent velcro created on Garden State).  Sometimes I am button that is shiny and is there purely for ornamentation, sometimes I am the toggle button(truth be told toggles are my favorite buttons!)  Whatever I am in any given day though, do not assume that is the only thing I know how to be. Do not assume just because I am a button one day that I can not adapt and become a zipper the next.  After all, maybe I am not a button at all, maybe I am a chameleon.

Paper Rainbows…W…the _______


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