EVERYBODY DANCE, NOW!!
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Heheh...I just had to say that. Friday, I went clothing shopping for reals (as opposed to Goodwill) and bought--drumroll--SIZE TEN JEANS!!! And, just for the heckuvit, I got a pair of ridiculously high-heeled zip-up black leather ankle boots...just because they looked so cute with the skin-tight jeans. I always had this image of myself as something of a stocky Russian babushka-woman peasant build, and suddenly I'm looking long-legged and lean(er). I have cheekbones and a jawline for the first time in YEARS, no double chin, and the other day when I was in JC Penney getting those new jeans (and boots, and a couple of shirts, and a blazer), I was sort of vaguely staring at nothing much while I was waiting in line to pay for my stuff, and suddenly realized that the woman I'd been looking at and thinking that she looked terribly familiar somehow was ME, my reflection in a mirror that a trick of perspective and lighting had fooled into thinking I was looking at another person. Talk about startling!
It's the little things, too, that somehow make this all more real: parking in my garage and not ending up with a dirty butt when I squeeze past between car and wall. Flying over to the other side of the state last month for my checkup, and having to tighten the belt when the flight attendant was going around preparing the cabin for takeoff and landing because in her opinion it was too loose--and having several inches left over when I did tighten it up. Realizing that coach class flying isn't nearly so torturous when you don't even fill up an entire single seat (although the leg-room still sucks eggs, and the service is still lousy). Having to get a new driver's license photo taken because I almost didn't get through airport security TWICE because they weren't sure I looked sufficiently like my old photo (which I'd had renewed just back in 2009--although even in the new photo I still look like I'm being booked for drunk and disorderly conduct, or something). Noticing my image on a store surveillance camera monitor at the grocery store and thinking, "You know, the ten pounds that cameras tack on don't look quite so hideous and lumpish anymore."
Not that I especially enjoy getting my photo taken, still. I have always thought that when the camera freezes my image for posterity that I always manage to either display the apparent intelligence of an especially IQ-impaired cow, or look like an escapee from a high-security psychiatric ward for the criminally insane. That impression hasn't changed. I'm just not a FAT IQ-impaired cow or nut-ward escapee...