Taco Bell beginning

Finally had a taste of one of those Doritios Loco tacos tonight... Meh.

Honestly I don't know how I ate so much Taco Bell in college...Every time I taste it now I think it's gross.

Remember how I mentioned being able to track the change in my tastebuds?

However, I do totally want Celito Lindos now.

I wish I was brave enough to eat by myself more often, but I'm just not.

You know what the problem with beautiful wedding nails is?

They are the gel shellac nails and they don't chip and they last forever. Which is great cause they are beautiful for a long long time. However I really like painting my nails, and I've found a whole bunch of things on pinterest I want to try but I don't want to waste my gorgeous french tips while I have them.

Hi, my name is Renee and I only have first world problems like, "My manicure is too good."

Ok, well to be fair, my husband also died from cancer so I guess it's not all "first world problems."

Perspective, she is important.

I sometimes worry about how shallow I think I come across. I do care and talk about my hair and my nails and clothes and shoes and all that shallow superficial stuff a lot and I worry that people might think that's all there is to me.. but in some ways it's reactionary. I *really* don't want to come across as a widow.  I want to be a person who someone could say to, "I never would have guessed that you had something like that happen in your life." I don't want to come across as sad and dreary and hurt and angry at the world.That's not me and it's not the legacy I want to live for Nathan. But I do get concerned that I take it too far in the other direction.

Can people see the rest of who I am and who I want to be behind the nails and hair? Can they see everything that I want to be? -the artist, the student, the wit, the observer, the reader, the nerd, the loyal friend, the wise counsel,

Maybe it's terrible, but I want people to think that I'm important. I want people's respect. Not that I want to be intimidating. Not in the least, but I want people to think I'm special. I want to matter.

And yeah I care about stupid things like my nails and my hair and what I look like, but it because I have a lot of spare time on my hands. When I was a caregiver I didn't care about this stuff, and it was pretty obvious, but what did it matter? I had a purpose that was a heck of a lot more important to me than worrying about what I looked like.

Sometimes I still don't understand how I'm standing. I don't understand how I survived without anti-depressants, without suicidal thoughts, without retreating from everyone, without a crisis of faith, or an intervention or at least stock in Kleenex.

So I guess the superficiality is part of my armor.

I just have to take a step back every once in a while and remember that it's just a removable piece of me, not my core.

...And to think this blog started out being about Taco Bell.