notquiteold

Nancy Roman

Why I Am What I Am

A friend of mine recently remarked:  “God gave me boys because He knew I would never be able to make a french braid.”

That is the kind of philosophical insight that I just love.

And it got me to thinking. What are the reasons I got the attributes I fortunately or unfortunately live with every day?

For instance. I have severe hay fever. I figure God did not want me to mow the lawn. However, once I got a husband and he got a ride-on lawnmower, God discovered a miracle cure via the right medication- so that while my husband drove around the lawn, I could discover the joy of gardening.

When I was young, I had a friend whose brother was much older than she. He could never remember the names of any of his sister’s friends. So he called us by our most memorable traits. Linda had the “Pretty Friend” and the “Tall Friend” and the “Shy Friend.”  I was the “Funny Friend.”  Certainly better than being the “Obnoxious Friend,” but how I wanted to be the “Pretty Friend.” And although I like the way I look now, and sometimes even feel sort of beautiful, I have to admit I was a very homely little girl. But I see the reason why I was such an extremely late bloomer (extremely like sixty years). I had to develop my brain-power to get ahead. And my sense of humor.  I’m lazy – and I know that had I been born beautiful, I just would have traded on it – like constantly. So now I am glad that I’m smart and funny – and finally good-looking.

I am extremely nearsighted, but on the other hand, I have an overly developed sense of smell. And unbelievably good hearing. The combination of dull and freakishly acute senses can be a pain in the ass. But guess what? How else would I be able to wake up my husband in the middle of the night with “What’s that???”

And finally, I am as flat-chested as a ten-year-old boy. And what is the blessing behind my teeny tatas? For the life of me I couldn’t figure it out. I never wanted to be swimmer or a gymnast.  And although I did (at sixteen) want to be a fashion model, I didn’t get the face or quite the height – or the strut-ability – to get very far in that career.  In the past couple of years, I’ve fallen in love with Zumba – but a nice set of knockers would be kind of an asset to my cumbia.

But I think I have it!  I know why I am built like the Flatiron building.

I am destined to play the accordion!

born to play

Born To Play

27 Comments

  1. We just keep looking for answers to all of life’s mysteries…glad you found yours:-)

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  2. LOL! Another hysterical post from my “Funny Friend!” Funny is good – maybe even better than Beautiful! 🙂

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  3. I like how you analyze and come up with the best answers.
    You got ME thinking. What’s the big deal with the tatas? I don’t need to worry either that gravity will drag them down. 😀

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  4. I love this!!

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  5. Being the beautiful one isn’t always that much fun, believe me- especially if some good brains come along with that. Feeling at home, body & soul, I think needs some years of life experience no matter what assets you have to boast of (or drag along….)

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    • I hear you. But I admit I always felt that I wouldn’t mind the boys thinking I was dumb if I was pretty. Talk about getting the upper hand…

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  6. Terrific post. And I agree about the accordion. I played one as a child, got boobs, and had to give it up (concentrated on the piano more, at least I didn’t have to carry THAT to school!)

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  7. With the tatas? The bigger they are, the further they fall. Gravity is a biatch.

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  8. Great post! With the engineering of miracle bras, who needs big tatas? I think I may have wanted them when I started puberty but honestly, I am grateful I am a small breasted woman. Way more choice in clothing, they don’t interfere in exercise & way less sagging!

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    • I don’t think I’d like really big ones either….just big enough to eliminate the accordion.

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  9. The opening remark reminds me of what I heard several times during my first pregnancy: “Hopefully you have a boy, because an unfeminine gal like you would have a hard time with a girl!”

    . . .

    I’d love to have been the funny one. As was, I ended up being okay as the funny one’s daughter. 🙂

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    • I liked being the funny one…but I secretly wanted to be the pretty one.

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  10. Thanks for my laugh today – that accordion revelation cracked me up!

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    • It could be very ouchy if you are well-endowed.

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  11. I was enjoying reading your blog, and then the “punchline” really grabbed me. I never had big boobs, but even my small ones made me uncomfortable. I remember my Mom (was a great knitter) and she knitted my a lovely Angora wool sweater. I never got to wear that beautiful thing very much in 7th and 8th grades. Was too embarrassed! Normal for girls at that age. I know my Mom felt bad about it, but I guess she understood.

    As afar as gravity is concerned, I think we girls with the flat boobs have it “up” over the full-chested ones.

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  12. Seeking all the answers is better than trading in on beauty. Just think, this will and has carried you further than beauty which you would have had to maintain through very painful processes.

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  13. Gravity will be much kinder to your tatas than it will be to any of your more well endowed friends. We were just talking about the accordion the other day. Believe it or not we had a Grammy Award winning accordion player in my home town. He won three. Of course there wasn’t a lot of competition in the accordion game. You might do very well at it.

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  14. Are you kidding? At our age, flat = no droopage. Good for you for recognizing your special traits.

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  15. Hey don’t pull yourself down so much, so what if your boobies are not Dolly Parton, Silicone Valley OTT Hybrids… Smaller boobs have their advantages too you know, and I like the idea of being the funny one opposed to the obnoxious alternative, even back then you were recognised as being a beautiful person so how cool is that? 🙂

    Andro

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