First Impressions...No! SECOND Impressions.

You know, they say that first impressions matter most; or they say something about something about impressions... I don't get bogged down in the details. Anyway, I wanted my first attempt at blogging to be fantastic and, really...impression-ey and stuff. Well, I guess this will have to do! :)


I have often been judged by my attempts at first impressions. When I transferred schools and had to meet a new first grade class I was immediately judged as a shy but pretty sheep. I went "baaah" right along with all the other kids until the fourth grade when I turned ten. "Mother Nature" decided to pay me a visit. I immediately changed from a shy but pretty sheep into a curvacious, lusty-looking, shy sheep. I wasn't quite sure what to do with my newfound lusty-ness, but I had been passed a few notes in the following years to help me figure it out!


"Sheep!"

After some more "baaah"ing, I had finally figured out how to best present myself to make a zinger of a first impression. I was polished, put together and beautiful! But I started to wonder if I was somehow missing the point of it all... I looked the part of a pretty and intelligent pageant girl, but there were other girls around me who looked just the same. The only difference was that they seemed, almost happier. But how could that be? I wasn't sure, so I decided to see if the bottom of a bottle would be able to explain it to me.

"Sheep!"

I "talked" to a whole bunch of bottle bottoms for the next few years, and, as a result I didn't look quite like the polished, put together and beautiful pageant girl that I had once been. I was unhappy, overweight and making worse and worse first impressions! I decided to go back to school to finish my last semester of classes at my women's college in rual Alabama.


Upon my return, I was almost shocked at the difference that my second impression made on my fellow classwomen. They were not looking at me as though I was a former beauty. They looked at me as though I was a, and there was that same word again, SHEEP, who had lost her fold and was wandering around saying, "Moooooooo!". Why would any self-respecting sheep say "Moo" instead of "Baah"? Well, that was just the problem: I wasn't a self-respecting sheep; I was a world-loving, bottle-hugging, pump-wearing Cow in Sheep's clothing!


It took me the entire Spring semester and the following Short-Term semester, but my Shepard was able to pluck out enough of the cow fur so that I could see some of my beautiful Sheep's wool poking through. It was way more painful than a bikini wax and the process went a whole lot slower, but it was well worth the work!


My wool has still not completely covered my cow spots, but with God's help, I plan to be singin' "Baaaah!" right along with all of his other sheep from here to eternity! I wasn't a very good cow anyway...