Perfectly Imperfect

Why is it that people are obsessed with the concept of perfection? We seem top covet things that are perfect and spend our whole lives, a good part of every single day of the week in search of something perfect. Some individuals are in pursuit of the perfect man or woman, some expect perfection from their children, some of us even look for ways to perfect ourselves. Then there are people who enjoy what they believe to be little specks of perfection, such as the perfect cup of coffee, the perfect Sunday morning, the perfect dinner with friends, the perfect toy, the perfect pair of shoes. Those who know me well will tell you that, yes I fall into the "expects to find, own, and forever covet the perfect pair of shoes. I have no problem admitting this, and as so many people jokingly tell me, admitting it is the first step. Yes, my name is Christina and I have a serious addiction to shoes, beautiful, artfully crafted, strikingly high, usually not the most comfortable, shoes. I feel we all have our own ideas of what perfection is and some people expect to find it more often than others. That's okay, really, fine, uh huh, yes, sure, uh... maybe?

What is perfection and why do we seek it, expect it? Some people expect perfection from themselves and others seek it and expect it from others. Why? I feel that things can perhaps be perfect, depending on who is looking at them. Things are created, they can be made perfect, designed to fit specific specifications (let's say, for example, just for the heck of it, a size 8 pump, with a handcrafted leather sole, say about 4 inches, in the perfect color to match the ensemble I pick out that day, fits beautifully. Ah, such a dream!) Excuse me, I must have gone away for a moment, but I'm back now, and I digress.... Perfection, yes.

As much as I enjoy what I believe to be perfection in many things around me, I truly believe that no one is perfect. You are probably thinking, "Uh, no shit Sherlock," but really many people don't seem to understand that. I think that perfection in people is boring. Who wants to be surrounded by people who are supposedly perfect? That is either going to be truly mind-numbingly boring, or rather depressing, depending on your take on the situation. And, who decides who is perfect anyway? No asked me, that's for sure!

After reading post by my favorite blogger EVER, Amy at http://justatich.com/, I decided to openly admit that I am imperfect. Yes, I am imperfect in the perfect way, for me that is. Here is just a short and perfectly imperfect list of the ways I am perfectly not-so-perfect:

1. I have bedhead: Unlike so many people who you see on TV and in movies, I am not cute in the morning. First of all, I am not a morning person, so I rarely greet the day with a smile on my face. Secondly, my hair is not flowing and perfectly quaffed as I get out of bed. Pieces stick up in the oddest places and at the oddest angles. Oh yeah, and I often have pillow lines on my cheeks. No, I am not beautiful in the morning, but I awake to another day, and i assure you, that by the time I leave the house, I have taken care of the bedhead!

2. I cry: Like most people, I cry. Sometimes for what might be considered a good reason, and sometimes for what seems like no reason at all. No, not a shocking confession of imperfection, but let me tell you, I do not cry pretty. By this, I mean, my eyes get red, they swell, my nose runs, my makeup runs, I gasp for air, my skin gets blotchy and I am truly a hot mess. Again, why do we always see people, especially women, presented as "pretty criers?" A single tear running down a beautifully-blushed cheek, a little hiccup of sadness, the perfectly-pitched sob. Good God! Who are they kidding? Show me someone who cries like that and I show you someone who has never really cried, never experienced true loss, a broke heart, a bad day, or seen a good chick flick. Yes, I cry and it is not pretty, but I know I feel, really feel.

3. I like old t-shirts; don't judge me: I am not a work-out person, a gym person, a runner. Frankly, if you get me started on the topic of running, you will quickly find out how much I loathe it and at the same time have no desire to understand what others see in it. That's okay. On the occasions when you do find me working out, taking long power walks, et cetera, you will not find me in one of those cute matching designed-for-working-out outfits. To be honest, they do not look good on me. Whoever designed tight spandex-like outfits for people to work out in never needed to work out. By this I mean that if I am overweight and need to work out, I am not going to look good in some tight pants and a top resembling a bra. Come on! If I can rock that ensemble, I probably am no in need of a visit to the gym and should instead go eat some cookies. You are more likely, most likely perhaps, to catch me taking a brisk walk through the neighborhood, sporting some comfy pants and an old t-shirt with the logo of a place I went to school, worked, or an event I was part of. I will be rocking out to something with a good beat and silently hoping to not get a cramp in my knee or my foot before I make it back to the house. I can tell you when i get done and am chugging water like it is going out of style, I will be sweaty, but comfy in my old t-shirts. Thank you.

4. Yes, I love bread, but you can have my rolls: So, I am admittedly a lover of carbs. Any kind, any way, any place, any fork or spoon, I love me some carbs. Unfortunately, I have my own rolls to contend with, the pesky kind around my waist that make wearing those cute form-fitting shirts and dresses a nightmare. I hate them and sometimes, lots of times, I hate myself for having them, longing for only one thing, their disappearance! We all have things that we would like to change about ourselves physically (and I am sure that plastic surgeons are grateful for this). I try and make positive choices to perhaps own smaller rolls, perhaps more like those delightful mini-crescents than the mega jumbo rolls served at Any Steakhouse, Anywhere, USA. Sometimes I succeed with these choices and sometimes I fail, but that is neither here nor there. I do not look like a supermodel and frankly, why would I want to (they always look kind of hungry to me). I have rolls and chances are when you see me in a lovely little black dress, there is something involving heavy elastic making me look oh so nice. Oh, and please pass the rolls!

5. Cable is my friend: I love to read. I will read pretty much any book you put in front of me. I truly, totally, enjoy the experience of reading. I crave the excitement of starting a new book, of getting to know the characters, the feel of the heft of paper and glue in my hands. When I finish one, is feel a slight bit of sadness, like a journey is over, like a friend has moved away. Despite this deep love for books, I am a TV junkie. I freaking love it. I know that smart, educated people are supposed to shy away from long hours of TV viewing and that I should, when I watch, tune into news programming or something educational about oceans or volcanoes, science discoveries or space. No thank you! I am proud to tell you that I will enjoy many a Sunday afternoon on the couch, watching hour after hour of Law and Order. It is a little piece of heaven right there in my living room. I will tuck myself in bed after a long day at work, and after reading for awhile, I drift to sleep laughing at the antics of the Golden Girls, episodes I have memorized because I have seen them so many times. I race home after a rehearsal to catch the end of Project Runway. I ask friends to DVR other favorites for me. Yes, I love TV, I know, how typically American and very boring of me. I think that when people say they don't watch TV, they are lying. Who are you kidding? If you own it, you watch it, and like me, you should admit you enjoy it and be proud of that. Pardon me for a moment, the commercials are over....

6. Opinionated is an understatement: As a child and a product of many years of Catholic School, I was taught and have willingly learned, that you should not judge others. As many a mom has said over the years, "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." Ummm, no. I can't help myself sometimes. It many not be nice, it many not be right, but yes, I judge people. If you are wearing bad shoes, you better watch out - I am coming after you! I joke, but wrapped up in this pretty joking package is a serious judgement. I will make fun of you if you are wearing ugly footwear, clothes that are so not your size, if you look like you got out of bed and came out in public in your jammies and haven't showered in several days, if you say something before engaging your brain, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Yes, I know. It is not a nice thing to do, but let's be honest - how many people can say they never judge others? If you tell me you are a nice person and would never pass judgement on others, ever, I will judge you for lying to my face. I consider myself to be a nice person, a friendly person, a compassionate person, a good friend, a helpful co-worker, but like everyone else, i judge others at times, and unlike many others, I will admit it. I do not aim to pick on people, but if you give me a reason (like wearing black shoes with brown slacks, or wearing an orthopaedic-looking pair of shoes with your little black dress), I will say something, either to you if I am feeling extra-confident that day, to whomever I am with or to myself. Go ahead and judge me if you wish, but you are just proving my point!

No one is perfect, and frankly I think the world would be a boring place if we were. I like being an individual, I like my quirks, I like being imperfect. I have my own standard to live up to and that is to be perfectly imperfect, perfectly me. As the song says: "...it's kinda nice to know that it doesn't have to be perfect, maybe every little piece of the puzzle doesn't always fit perfectly... real love and real life doesn't have to be perfect...." I invite you to join with me in celebrating imperfection, in realizing that we are all perfectly imperfect. Sounds perfect to me!