Let me UPGRADE me...

Well my sorority sisters, Jade and Princess, that came in town for the Beyonce concert are now gone. While they were here, though, they did make me realize how little I care about my appearance. Getting ready for the concert for them involved putting on makeup (of which I wear none), ironing (what's that?), all sorts of curling irons for their hair (my hair has been on strike), and fabulous outfits that just don't come in my size.

There once was a time when I could go out with my friends in college and feel like I looked just as good as them. I could shop in the same stores (even though I wore a bigger size) and be on the same level of cuteness. Now I feel like I'm not up to par. I just don't have the wardrobe anymore to even qualify for the pretty girl trials. I started wondering why, when did I stop caring about how I looked? Or do I still care?

I assume it all started when I stopped being able to fit clothes in the "pretty girl" stores like Express and Limited. Clothes in Lane Bryant just weren't making me feel pretty, even if they looked good on me. I knew where they were from and it just wasn't cute. In addition, my hair is long and sometimes unruly, especially when I try to work out on a regular basis. So the ponytail just started being my thing. I never wore makeup though, just mascara and clear lip gloss (just started with the mascara). I guess I can always come up with a million and one excuses why I don't put much effort into my appearance.

I care. I really do. I think my ex said it best when he said, "People don't change until they get embarrassed." I don't embarrass easily, though. I've assumed the "I'm silly. I don't give a damn" persona. But that doesn't mean I don't feel ashamed. How is it that I'm so driven in so many other aspects of my life, yet this part of me is left? I guess we all need something to cry about.