An Introduction of Sorts: Part II

Hello friends. My name is Mallory.
My dear Hannah did a lovely job of introducing herself.
I thought that I would, in brief, describe myself.
I'm not great with introductions. So do not worry.
This will not be novel-length. Which is a step up.
Because I generally make things novel-length... Always on accident.

--My room is inconsistently clean.
--My hair is consistently unkempt.
--I do things the way that I like them to be.
--I love mechanical pencils.
--Grilled cheese sandwiches are my favorite food.

How was that for brief?

Now I would like to address a few things about Hannah that she ceased to tell you:
--She pulls off red lipstick better than anyone I know.
--She has the greatest thumbs in the world.
--She had her first kiss on a bridge. (anyone else as jealous of this as I am?)
--She likes peanut butter and jelly and barbeque chip sandwiches.
--She plays lacrosse. (unexpected much?)

I suppose that's all that's necessary for one to know. For now, that is.

I'm thoroughly ecstatic that she and I decided to start this lovely blog.
I guess I enjoy the idea of posting thoughts for all the world to see, although I don't believe, at this point, that much of a world will see it. Mainly some friends we've told about our blog, if even that. I guess it's all for fun. And, for Hannah and I atleast, all we need is the reassurance of fun for us to invest in anything.

Well, this is all beside the point. It is my wish to address some realization I came across as I lived my ever so un-glamorous life, today being just like any other day:
I realized that I am far from perfect. This is something I've always known, but it just became a bit more clear as I spent the whole day observing why.
I observed this today as I pressed the snooze button on eight different occasions. I observed this today as I struggled to peel a grapefruit. I observed this today as I noticed all of the cups and bottles, that once contained some form of drinkable liquid, scattered all over the floor of my car. I observed this each time I would remind myself to sit up straight. I observed this as I reached for a second bag of chips. I observed this as I misspelled the word "misspell" multiple times (I could have sworn there was only one "S").
I'm imperfect. And that's the way it's always been. And that's the way it will always be.
There was another thing that crossed my mind as I realized all of this so bluntly:
I simply love imperfection. There is no imperfection about myself that I would take away. Imperfections define each of us. Every day. That's the only reason we're here: to be imperfect.
So love yourself. Despite any imperfection. Flaws make everything interesting.
No one is perfect.

I feel that the phrase "no one is perfect" is one of common use. Everyone loves to tell you no one is perfect just to make you feel better about anything at all.
And while this is annoying, it really is the truth. I've found that my roughest times were the times I hated my imperfections and tried to fix everything about myself.
There is nothing to fix.
Only things to accept, and build upon.
What is life without a little bit of bad posture, or messy handwriting, or spilled milk, anyway?

So embrace this life. And never ever let something stupid, like and imperfection, get in the way of you accomplishing anything.

Pick your battles. But please: Save your force for the fights that really matter.




By: Mallory