Despite loving dresses and high heels, as well as wearing them everyday, I have never been a very girlie girl. To some, that just doesn’t add up or make sense. I’m not saying I was a tomboy. But I just was never that into manicures (mani-pedis), for instance. There are many other things I can cite but will not as this isn’t even my main point. I started off by digressing. That may be a new record for me.

But, here we go.

Growing up I was filled with superstitions. Rather, I was constantly told and warned about superstitions. Black cats. Evil eye. Itch palms. Upside down broom. Name it, I’ve probably been warned about it. It made for an interesting childhood. It makes for an interesting adulthood. I grew up believing but was taught to be skeptical. And, now remain in-between.

One bit I was constantly told was that a burning ear meant someone was talking about me. For the life of me, I cannot recall what left versus right ear meant according to my mother. The google machine tells me that left ear burning means someone is talking badly about me. And, lo and behold my left ear has been burning. Considering I am making waves everywhere, I don’t doubt that is correct. However, my left ear is also burning because I accidently flat-ironed it. Oops.

Now, I have been asking myself whether it matters that I literally burned myself. I suppose I can be critical of myself. However, I have fairly good self-esteem. I try not to take things personally. That’s called good compartmentalization or a good coping mechanism. If you knew my exact line of work, you would applaud my coping strategies. Let’s get back to the matter at hand. What does it mean when you burn yourself? Of course, I’m talking about metaphorically. Well, yes I literally burn myself. As such, it must negate the supersition. Although, I am sure that would not matter at all to my mother. A superstition is a superstition. I certainly wish that she was around so that I could ask her. There comes that grief thing again.

Now, you may be harkening back to thd introductory paragraph herein and wondering how I would start off on such a digression. Here’s the thing. Every morning I now do my hair. I wasn’t so hair fussy before. I’ve always had long hair. But it used to be I would let the air dry my curly hair and I’d go sbout my way, with perhaps finger-combing it. Now, I blow dry it. I flat iron it. I style it. I fix it throughout the day. Does that mean I’m a girlie-girl? Of course not. That would be stereotyping and preposterous. However, I most certainly have changed my disposition. We evolve. We grow. Stop growing, we die.