Big Girl Shoes

Sometimes I'll be on the train, in my big girl coat with my big girl shoes, thinking about what I'm going to plant in my big girl backyard and mentally budgeting for big girl expenses like furniture reupholstery, when Bob Mould's "See A Little Light" pops up on my big girl iPod.

This song, possibly more than any other, has the ability to transport me squarely into my early-to-mid-twenties. It is a worn blanket, smelling of cigarettes and Rolling Rocks and someone else's bed. It sounds like tipsy sadness and teary rage. It reminds me of being unable to fathom a tomorrow without a guy that didn't give that much of a shit to begin with.

But of course, tomorrow came, and that guy wasn't there, and he wasn't there the next day, or the following day, until the days piled up and it didn't matter anymore. But when I hear this song I can see the full ashtray, and the empty bottles, and I can feel the tears, and I want to go up to that 24-year-old and tell her what I've learned, and maybe give her a few pointers:

It still hurts a little, hearing that song. But it hurts the way the end of a sad movie sometimes hurts. You hurt for the characters, you hurt because you relate. But you have yourself a cry, and it's done, because it's not "reality." It's not where your feet are right now. Look down - see? Big girl shoes.

lisamcc at 2:38 p.m.

1 comments so far
Kay Ballard
2011-03-22 07:33:50
Okay. Maybe, "Don't cut your own bangs." is good advice, but it is lacking in practicality. Better advice: "If you must cut your own bangs, use dedicated scissors."

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