Too Much

I started TiVo-ing all of the Sex and The City reruns, and a few days ago I watched one of my favorite episodes: the one where Big and Carrie try to be friends as he marries Natasha, but everyone knows how that works, and Miranda says that it reminds her of The Way We Were. Carrie then concludes that the world is made of of 2 types of ladies: the Katy girls and the Simple girls.

Call them Simple girls, call them Cornflake girls...they're all of the same sweet-ish tribe. But me, I'm a Katy girl. Sometimes I'm kind of self-conscious about this. I feel like I'm too much. I'm kinda funny and kinda intense and you either love that in a broad or you don't. I'm also nearly 5'10" with huge, curly red hair that's all over the place.

Last night I had a long-overdue evening with my fabulous friend Brandee, who is just what the doctor ordered when one is feeling self-conscious about being Too Much. She walks into a room and people notice her, not just because she's beautiful and her retro-styled hair is brightly plum-colored, but because she has alot of succulent energy that just exudes from her. She tells funny stories and laughs loudly and drinks beer. She drives a PT Cruiser with orange flames painted on each side and a vanity plate on the front that reads "Elvis".

Brandee and me (in one of my rare un-crazy-hair moments)

We're quite a pair together, let me tell you. Last night she nodded toward a group of three very pinched-looking women at a nearby table and whispered with a laugh, I swear, those girls are staring at me!! Who could blame them? I bet they wanted to be her friend too.

A few days ago I forwarded a picture of a project I've been working on to my friend Kerri and she wrote, So, so cute. You are too much. No, not too much... just the right amount, really. ; )

Thanks, girl.