the marina district is drizzling itself on me

I've noticed recently that I don't hate the Marina so much and it's scaring me. I'm supposed to sneer at Chestnut Street people. All perky and blond and so perky that they're not even smug looking. I used to hate them. And their streets and houses. Pink and salmon colored buildings that look fitting in the Algarve but tacky and nasty and scream I've got-a-leased Jetta. And streets that have no trees and if they do have trees the trees are plucked. So that they don't get the streets filled with leaves. No tree likes to get plucked.

But times have changed and I've reached my mid-twenties and I'm starting to think about career stuff and what I might do with my life when I stop wearing my Pumas and if I'll ever afford a house between now and 2020 that it isn't listed as a fixer-upper in somewhere faraway like 43rd Ave and Ulloa and somehow out of all of this the final result is, I don't mind the Marina so much. I'm not sure that any of this is directly related but something in my gut says it is.

And I wonder if this is why I'm picking up Marina-chick behavior which results in Marina-chick looks.

Some examples in the looks department that concern me:

1). I carry a purse: I usually leave my apartment with a purse. I never used to have a purse. Now I have this big thing that can safely conceal a pair of sneakers. Actually, I have a couple of big purses that I change around occasionally for flavor. I'm sure it was only last year that I always had a backpack (I mean canvas backpack, not one of those purses concealed as backpacks worn by those people I didn't used to like). Or my back pocket. Now I don't wear clothes that have back pockets and my backpack smells of moldy running clothes.

2). Size of purse: My purses are large because they carry a makeup bag amongst other things. The makeup bag is quite extensive. The contents at least could do an undercoating of RuPaul's face. Except, now that I'm growing up, I tend to veer more towards makeup lines that have English actresses for their models instead of drag queens. My lipsticks now have names like Starlight Pink and Rosa Rosa instead of Wuss or Viper. And I always carry moisturizer because I have early onset of compulsive wrinkle-defense cream use. Even having a make up bag itself is a move towards middle-age because not so long ago I just let my makeup swim around free in the depths of the backpack and I'd just pick the pieces of lint off the purple lipstick. And then apply.

3). Business cards: I do two things now when I leave the house. Firstly, I grab my purse and then I check my purse and coat for business cards. Even when I'm going to the market (Marina Safeway). Up until about nine months ago, I thought my business cards were to sit in my desk and wait to be chucked into the recycling until the next promotion. Now, I get them printed in a size that stands out from everyone else's. Go figure.

4). Complete faith in hairdresser: I get my hair cut at least once a month. Before, I used my kitchen scissors and just laughed if someone said they could see my scalp. Now I have a hairdresser who tells me why hair taffy is better than pomade and I believe her and buy hair taffy.

5). Buffed nails: I get my nails manicured. There! I can't believe I'd ever write that. But I do. Except this is where I'm clearly showing signs of new-woman-to-Marina because I like funky colors and I'll NEVER (and I really do mean that) get a French Manicure (whatever it is and I'm sure as long as I remain ignorant about it, I won't get one). And I don't have the patience to wait for my nails to dry like all the other women so I always leave and waste my $10, and then say things like fuck and damn and get all pissy for what is really a very dumb reason.

I can feel Marinahood drizzling itself over me.

ANON

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