Confessions of a middle aged tomboy.

I wore my favorite pair of MJs into the ground last winter. They were letting snow in throught the soles when I finally tossed them.

daaaaammmmmnn, Now I' lost in zappos land.

It's kind of quicksandy.

My last purchase there btw -- maryjanes. (Kenneth Cole Reaction, very nice.) (The brand name mentioning isn't getting me any tomboy points, is it...?)

(no, but that muscular bicep u keep flexing sure is...)

No points, but I'm off to zappos.

Freeduck! Don't do it!
......Freeduck.....?
..........I think we lost her.

<takes off red bandanna, holds to chest, looks down sadly for a moment...>

Hey RP, wanna armwrestle?

oooh, that reminds me. At my strongest point as an adult I was at a party smoking hand rolled cigaretts, tripping on acid, and drinking copious amounts of beer when I challenged a construction worker to an arm wrestling match. He hurt me. My right shoulder has never been the same.

Red... suede... drool

heeheehee

(Littlek, make sure you DON'T mention they have kids' shoes, too.) (Oops.)

My husband's trying to disconnect the cable modem...

Oh dear.

My, boomer's tomboy thread has taken quite a turn. I am fascinated with the range of behavior you've been discussing and where society draws the line between normal and weird.

I was a fairly girly girl, but I think I grew up to be a low maintenance woman. As I'm 46 and have never been married, I'm sure lots of folks wonder about my sexual preference. I figure it's none of their damn business and let them wonder. Unless I'd like to make that information their business of course...

Comfort is key. I won't wear shoes that hurt or clothes that require special attention to how I sit. I've gone thru phases of wearing skirts and earrings. Haven't worn either in several years, but I'd consider them again. Dangle earrings are kind of fun. Oh, and I have always had wash-and-wear hair. My sister has the same hair, and she blows it dry then uses hot rollers or a curling iron and then hairspray. I can't imagine doing all that.

I'm now working in an office where most of the women wear skirts, heels, hose. Even on blue-jean Fridays, they're dressed up. I'm trying not to stand out too much, but I'm sticking to flats and pants. I've been wearing sandals all summer to work, and I recently took the (HUGE) step of painting my toenails for the first time in my life. Also bought a couple of pairs of sandals that aren't brown or black!

you're on -- anytime, anywhere

but i must warn u.

when i was 10 i beat my burly homeroom teacher in arm-rasslin'.

(no, he didn't "let" me win, either -- i beat him hand down...)

Yeah, but you're a grown up now and tickling your opponent won't work anymore.

i'll beat any of yooze tomboys in an arm-rasslin' match -- and i'll do it w/o wrenching anybody's shoulder...

mac11, being a low maintence woman in Texas certainly does invite a lot of specualtion regarding one's sexual prefrence. Been there - done that.

I still get back to Texas once in a while where my two beautiful and girlish sisters live. I get a lot of "Are you gonna wear THAT?" when I visit.

I think the speculation thing and the "So what/none of your business" attitude interesting.

When I worked at the Sorority Party and started hearing rumors that I was gay I didn't do anything to set anyone straight which, of course, established the "fact" that I was.

Eventually they learned that I was married so attention turned to the fact that I didn't have kids which, of course, meant that I was infertile.

One day I was late to work. The reason: I had to rush my dog to the vet because she had eaten my birth control pills. It was only when my hilarious story was met with dumbfounded silence that I realized what was going on.

After that -- I was just a freak.

Making decisions outside what is expected is tough. In the South I think it is tougher. I know that when I visit my family that I have to kick my maintence level up a notch just for the sake of sanity.

That's an interesting point about the south, boomerang. I'll bet that has a lot to do with feeling "alien". Soz, you weren't raised in the south, were you?

True, nope, I wasn't. Minneapolis, which is full of Swedes and Norwegians who are vaguely suspicious of makeup or otherwise "putting on airs."