(before I get to the meat of the post, Marian asked what songs Christine Lavin did. I don't recall them all, but she did Dan Fogelberg's Same Auld Lang Syne, I'm Glad He Can't Read My Mind, What Was I Thinking (with a new final verse about Mitt Romney), Christians and Pagans, Christmas Tree Story (a story she told her 3 year old niece many years ago), a strange version of The Twelve Days of Christmas, and more. She brought up her and Uncle Bonsai relatives for a final song (another offbeat 12 days of Christmas). She invited up Debbie Smith ~ she invites anyone local who was on the "Just One Angel" album. Debbie played a song to an Irish drum which she played beautifully and did a wonderful O Holy Night. Funny: she said she used to beg the pastor at her local church ~ I think it was United Methodist of Annandale ~ and someone jumped up and said "that was my mom!" Small world. And Christine finished her set by doing some baton twirling.)
I live in the bubble that is my comfort zone. I don't like to try new foods, my default response to a new situation is "no." I like what I'm used to.
It takes a conscious effort to pop that bubble. Even though I step outside of my comfort zone regularly as Meg, I stick to outfits that I know I like, makeup the way I've done it before, colours I feel are "traditional" if not always age-appropriate.
For instance, last time I was at the salon, my beautician started painting my toenails purple. (No fingers ~ I was in drab.) Although my default is also to accept the advice of women when it comes to fashion, cosmetics, jewelry, I said "I prefer red." She argued that purple was a more fall colour, but I insisted and I'm glad I did ~ I still have my red toenails and I get a little bit of pleasure every time I see them.
But Charity seems intent on breaking the bubble with startling regularity.
For the concert, we agreed on a purple dress that I've taken out several times but always put back in lieu of something else. I suggested purple tights, which she thought was OK. I was starting to like the brown boots but she said not with purple. Then she offered to do my fingernails. She suggested purple.
I didn't say no.
I'm glad I didn't say no. I LOVED my nails and hated to remove the polish later. (NOTE: I really wanted to leave the colour on for the next day at work and
think I could have! Virtually no-one was there and if I had to, I could've (ugh) made up a story ("my little niece wanted to paint
someone's nails and I was her last chance. She looked so sad when I said I had to take it off that I left it on." Or "my roomate likes it. Is it a big deal?" which is probably better but still a story).
She did my colours as well, and she gave my face a hint of purple (shadow, lips) that changed the way Meg looked in a way I also loved. Please let me know if I'm delusional or if this is a good look for me (little poll to the right ~ and my ego wouldn't let me add the obvious fourth choice!). And, yes, I understand "good" is relative.
