Facebook can be wonderful....

...but it can make me feel bad. I still feel sometimes like I am having my hats (which I did wear...suede newsboys caps...wish I had them now) hit off my head on the school bus every time I wore them by the "cool" girl next door. It's funny...as I type this I can so remember every time that that happened...I tried to diffuse the situation and pretend that "HaHa...what a funny joke...blahblahblah"...the stuff you say you say so you can just get off the bus with some middle school/freshman year of high school dignity intact.

We moved to Syracuse when I around 11 years old. Another move...another time having to make friends...again. There was a group of kids that lived in the apartment complex where we moved and me, being the needy little puppy wanting to be part of a litter, tried to jump right in. This was a tough crowd to try and break into.Mind you, they were apartment dwellers like my family...which meant you were an Army brat and your Dad was doing some job that meant you only going to be there short term...your Dad did some job like my Dad which meant you could be moving soon...or you just lived there because that's where you live. It's funny thinking about this and looking back on it with different eyes.

I always thought I was a middle of the road fit in kind of girl...and looking back I have always marched to my slightly left of center drummer. Nothing extreme but just enough to get your hat hit off your head.

I make the joke about "I may not do marriage well, but I do divorce great". I have never stopped loving my ex-husbands. The love has changed. They are part of my family...the distant relatives you are happy to see when your paths cross but who you don't go out of your way to contact.

So...I wonder what I am really typing about.

I guess it's this. I always have had a freak flag to fly. I guess I always knew it...i.e. continuing to wear hats that were going to be smacked off my head...and I stuffed it down for a long time. Sometimes because of partners, most times because of me.

I may not love what I see in the mirror everyday...that age thingy...but I love that my flag is slowly rising up the mast.