Gets Glam

Sometimes I'll go looking through pictures from a party and see myself in a snuggle with someone, but not remember who it is. This picture is not one of those times. It's one of my favorites because it's a friend. And because I look charming in it.

I am not photogenic at a party. I am usually running my mouth or giving someone the dominatrix eyes or if I'm really tired the worst is that I'm being a fake version of me. Low fidelity. My personality is buried somewhere deep inside there but mostly you are seeing bling.

Fluff.

I do a lot of looking around, and I'm just now realizing that I am hungry for things. This wanting something feeling bothers me. I think it jangles my mojo and puts my whole life at arms length. I'm not really having any conversations, when I'm in wanting mode. It's grabby, and unbecoming.

Passion. Glamour. I'm supposed to be generating all of those things all of the time. At least according to my therapist.

Is it uncouth? Me telling you that I go to a therapist? Does it matter?

Well I do. And she's a sharp, older lady who has impeccable style and a very no-nonsense way of saying things. I like her because she tells me lots of complimentary stuff about myself and she's also good at calling "bullshit" when that's necessary. And then also, she has these awesome outfits.

Anyway. This fantastic lady asks me about glamour the other day. Because I brought it up as something I like to see in a man: magic, allure, an adventuresome spirit. Those delightful things.

Glam, daddy.

And then she turns to me and asks me just like that: why am I looking for these things in someone else? Shouldn't I just *be* them all and see what happens?

Well hell why not.

Okay so I'm planning a trip to the snow this weekend, and I have no fucking idea what to wear. Suggestions welcome.

xoxoxox.