He likes me for me!

That bottom half of a body over there? That was me, earlier today. I didn't even have an '80s party to attend. I just pulled those pieces out of my closet last night, and they made me happy. It's been so grey and dreary out, and I LOVE color. So that's what I wore this morning.

Yes, I realize that I'm 41. Yes, I realize that no single piece of that leg ensemble is going to get me into a fashion magazine. Yes, I realize that I am not Blossom Russo (well, maybe I haven't fully accepted that part yet). But I have this tendency to wear what I like.

When we were in Sherman, one time I was hitting McDonald's before play practice, and this lady asked, me, "Where are you headed in that get-up?" I was wearing a denim short skirt with black leggings, a sleeveless magenta button-up top with a collar, and a very cool necklace I'd gotten at Claire's that looked like a black sequined tie. I didn't feel it was a "get-up" but I told her where I was going. She laughed and said, "You theater people and your costumes."

Another time, my sister shot a video of my dancing with Daphne and her kids, and after she posted the video, someone asked her about my "costume." Which was really just the costume of being me, I suppose. And maybe I'm a little bit weird.

But here's why I wanted to tell you about this today:

This morning, when I was dressed and pretty much ready to go to church, James came out of the bedroom, saw me, smiled, and said, "I like that outfit. It's festive." And he meant it.

This might be normal for you more normal people, but it's all new to me: The more *me* I am, the more James seems pleased. He genuinely likes the quirky things that make me who I am. Not that he just tolerates them because otherwise, I'm a pretty good catch. Those weirdo things actually seem to bring him some pleasure. And this makes me giddy.

In terms of accomplishment and renown, I feel like I'm on the winding-down side of my life. I wish James could have seen me act more, and seen some of the things I wrote be performed the same way I wish I could have heard him play classical guitar. I think James would have enjoyed these things, and been proud of me.

I wish James had been with me at our 20-year high school reunion. If we'd been married, and if I'd gotten a wild hair to teach myself a complete dance routine to the inordinately long "You Can't Stop the Beat" from "Hairspray," and then I'd convinced the DJ to play the song so that I could perform said dance... alone... with everyone else watching... when it was all over, James would have been yelling and clapping the loudest. He would have high-fived me and hugged me and announced, "That's my wife!" And he would have expected other men to be jealous.

I'm not always an attention-seeking weirdo, but there are times when I get these ideas in my head that seem like they have to happen, regardless of how sensible they are. And I sometimes wear offbeat combinations of clothing. These things have always been a source of amusement and joy to me... but to have them be a source of amusement and joy to the adult I love most on this planet? Incredible. To have someone love the pieces of me that in the past I've been told in the past are too silly or too loud or just too much? Really, I can't begin to describe the difference it makes in my life. And all I want to do for the rest of it is to pay him back.



PS If you watched the video: I can (or could before the ruptured disk) do a cartwheel... but the dance floor was super slippery and the heels didn't help!