The Good One Liners

There are times in every gal's life when the right path is not always evident. Do I buy that pair of $325.00 Michael Kors shoes on my student loans, or do I not? (Not, P.S.). Do I go out on a date with someone who is completely not my style? Do I walk back into a relationship that may, or may not, be what I'm looking for? Do I attend the nuptuals of someone who I can't reconcile my feelings for?

Whatever question we wrestle with, the decision is never arrived at before extensive consultations with the troop of gals. The Michael Kors decision was made, at the better advice of H, after an hour walking around the Barney's in DC admiring the beauty of my feet, staring at my (very full) credit cards, going back and forth at the cost/use ratio of the shoes, and then finally forcing H to take my hand and drag me out of the store, swearing she would not let me back in for the shoes for at least...one month. I never bought the shoes, and my (again, very full) shoe closet is none the wiser or emptier.

But those are the easier decisions we make with the consultation of our girlfriends. The harder ones hit at the core of who we are as people, adults, women, individuals. And no matter what the take is of the group, they are often largely independent decisions that are arrived at from a lot of soul searching.

I've been fairly content, as of late. I saw that movie everyone has been raving about, you know, the one about teenage pregnancy called Juno, and I loved it, as, like, everyone in America has. But there's this one line that's particularly striking to me. Juno's pregnant, and her dad says "I didn't think you were this kind of girl, Juno" (or something like that) and she responds "I don't really think I know what kind of girl I am".

I loved that. And empathized with it, thinking back on age 16. And the craziest thing was I identified with it, at age 28.

I wonder at what point you begin to know what kind of person you are, and if it varies for everyone. I see my friend M, who has a baby and husband and house identifying who she is through that and many other things. I see my cousin J continuing to define herself not through the negative but through this amazing empire she continues to create and dominate throughout the U.S. And it's inspiring. But I don't know if I know what kind of girl I am yet.

What do we define ourselves based on? Surely not relationships, but what? Every day I stare at a wedding invitation from one of my very best friends, an invitation to a joyous occasion, and I can't bring myself to fill it out, because I know my feelings for this person are not wholly reconciled. I continue to shove it farther and farther under my pile of unread mail, hoping it will disappear. But it doesn't. I mean, I know what my response is, it's just a matter of filling it out. My friend C said she would fill it out and seal it up and send it for me, and I think I might take her up on the offer. But I am left with asking myself again, if I can't do this, what kind of person am I?

I guess I'll start by what I know, and maybe we can narrow it down from there:
1. I know I'm a great friend.
2. I think I'm a fairly passable sibling.
3. I am a humanitarian.
4. I am, again, passably intelligent.
5. I am loved by more people than I can count on 20 hands.
6. I know I have great friends.
7. I have the most amazing family (both immediate and extended) that a gal could dream of.
8. I am alive.

In the grand scheme of life, that list of eight is not so bad. But does it tell what kind of person I am? Not really. There's this great song I've been listening to by Regina Spektor called "Hotel Song" and it's been my contemplative rhyme, as of late (ignore the references to cocaine). I've been thinking a lot about who I am, and I have yet to come to a solid conclusion. So I guess like Juno, I don't really know what kind of a girl I am. But I suppose life is about continuing to discover that.