A few years ago someone I was in love with told me my masculinity side is as strong as my feminine side. I wasn't surprised when he shared his observation because as much as I know I'm a 100% woman, there were a few aspects of me that sometimes puzzled me when I was younger.
Ever since I was a kid I never liked to play dolls and girls games. I had a couple of dolls with curly black hair and porcelain complexion, their eyes blink opened when I put them in sitting or standing position. And when I put them flat on the floor, the eyes would close, with long eyelashes covered half of their high cheekbones.I kept them away in the box under my parents bed.
I only took them out when one of my mother's friend, and she had a daughter around my age with a doll on her hip. When they left, the dolls went back sleeping in a box under the bed.
My accuracy in throwing the spinning wheels on the ground and broke the opponent's spinning wheel was as good as any boys that I played with, my buddies( boys).
I made my own kite, bought the bamboo frames from the grocery store, five cents each. We flied kites for fun, the meaning of fun was trying to cut the other kid's kite. How did we do it?
First we hunted for an old bulb or broken pepsi cola bottle.The old bulb or bottle was broken to pieces down to powder form. One of us would find the way to steal some starch from home. Starch or we called it kanji was an easy access, was made by tapioca powder. During those times the school uniforms were starched. Most of the mothers in those time always had a fresh pot of starch. So every Monday morning some of us walked around the school with stiffed limbs as we were being starched and pressed too.
We, then carefully mixed the starch and glass powder and applied to at least 12 inches along the top part of the line.
Let it dry under the sun. We waited until noon when we had good wind. We raised our kites up in the sky. When our kites were stable up in the sky, then the fun begun. Each of us who was bold enough would looked for another kites and tried to cut it off. It was fun, it was brutal.
Sometimes we ended up fighting, but the fight never lasted more than a day.
When I think back about making the powder out of broken bulbs, I'm grateful to the Creator, because none of us ever got our eyes blinded by flying broken pieces of sharp, thin glasses.
I scratched and cut my knees and legs while climbing up the trees and all the games the boys played, I rarely missed.
I only learned to wear baju kurung and sarung when family went to live with my grandmother during my father's two years service in Congo.
One thing my mother never neglected to teach me was the chores and tasks that a girl "supposed" to learn along with all my brothers. So, we were even then.
Now, I'm a grown matured woman, I enjoy all the little luxuries that I can afford, like body oil perfume (Tunisia Sandalwood and Bergamot), Provence herbal body soaps, taking a long, hot bubble bath with a few drops of Bergamot oil, sleeping on a soft 100% cotton bedsheets and bergamot body lotion are a few things I enjoy as a woman.
My overload shoes rack carries 12 pairs of sneakers, three pairs of running shoes, five pairs of working boots (one pair is tan, one pair is brown and three pairs are black). All of them have 16 eyelets, three pairs of Rockport shoes which I wear alternately in late winter and early fall.
I have three pairs of two inches leather strap sandal, two pairs of black pump and two pairs of one-inch dress boots, they are all look new because I hardly wear them. I should've not bought them in the first place, but there were times, I thought I wanted my feet to experience something new, something different, but they prefer the comfort, so I choose the comfort.
I'm more comfortable in slip one shoes, sneakers and flat open sandals during summer.
After making a deposit this morning, I walked up to Washington Street to CVS to get me some lip balm. Somehow my legs made a stop at Filene's Basement, that's how I spotted this Ecco boots . On top of that it was on sale, 50% off an original price.
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