The Guy in Khakis in the Hot Topic

So... I took a long break.  I had lots of feelings and emotions, and honestly, they were a bit much to handle.... and I didn't feel like I could process them in a way that would be healthy for blogging, so I have been a little silent lately.  Good news is, I feel great now.  I want to try and process some of the feelings I have had in writing over the next couple of weeks, but wanted to get something down quickly to rekindle my enjoyment of writing this blog.

So without further adieu....

So here is my a little comparison for the day.  Imagine it is 1999... and you are a punk kid (JNCOS, dog chain, studded belt and ringer tee included.)  All of your friends are also punk kids.... BUT, you also have a job at the mall that has a strict khaki and polo dress code.  One day on your 15 minute break from the Sunglass Hut, you walk down to the Hot Topic...  as soon as you walk in you feel out of place.  The guy behind the counter looks at you strangely, as if you aren't in the right place (also, you are not sure if this look is real or imagined).  You know in other social circumstances you may share a great moment of bonding listening to Blink 182's, "All the Small Things" but in this moment, in this situation, the guy with the spiked dog collar couldn't think he was more different than you.

You press on anyways.  You know what you are there for... and you know that even though it doesn't look like it is a place where you should be, you know you have the proper equipment, it is just hidden under your polo/khaki costume.  So you proceed to the chained wallet section (because for the 2nd time this year you have broken the piece that snaps onto your belt loop).  You choose one that suits you (probably red with sparkles like a 50s dinner seat) and you proceed to check-out.  All the sudden the guy behind the counter realizes you DO belong there.  You obviously had a desire for something in the shop, and although on the surface it doesn't look like this is your place, it is somewhere you had to go to get something that was necessary.

That's what going to the midwives office feels like.  Foreign and strange... not because I don't belong there, but because it looks like I don't belong there.  So maybe chain wallets and babies aren't the same, but I think you get the picture.