le *sigh*

Another juicy tidbit from my convo with my new friend:

I have to say, in reading your page, I feel "out classed" by your drive and lifestyle. You appear polished, while I am rusty. You appear "together," while I am "a part." In any case, I dare to converse with someone that has caught my fancy and engulfed my curiosity.

Now my first question to myself is what in the hell is on my page that is so together, polished, and classy? OK, so maybe it's my stunningly gorgeous photos that I happen to take once in a millenium, or maybe it's my "Ph.D. in progress" education. I had to break it down that this is part of my online persona. Whose profile doesn't reek of perceived fabulousness? Especially among those of us whom have spent most of our lives feeling anything but. Hell, gotta get my profile on somewhere, cuz folks in real life are definitely not phased, let me tell you.

What was my response? Something about as much as I know about human nature, there is no such thing as being completely together. And if he doesn't believe me, he should see the clutter that lives in my bedroom. I may have pursued lots of education, but for a self-professed nerd whom "learning is my anti-drug," what else do I do with my life?

Anyone who knows me in real life knows that I regularly come undone. You can read this blog and get the same sense. A metaphor for my life: I may not go out of the house with my hair looking a-mess, but I'll be damned if my hair don't stand straight up on top of my head while at home. The moral of the story is that I'm untogether just like the rest of the damn world. Sadness and sorrow and devastation have landed at my doorstep more than a time or two. My portrait of untogetherness just looks a little different than most folks.