I am a funny, smart, empathic woman with a large voice that I'm not afraid to use when it comes to my community. But I still have moments of being shy - and that comes as a surprise to many who know me.
I clean up more than nice and much like "Lucy in the sky with diamonds, I am the girl with kaleidoscope eyes." Seriously, my eyes are hazel so they change color depending on what I wear & my mood.
I laugh from my belly, deep and loud. And sometimes I laugh so hard my whole body shakes and I cease to make noise.
At times, I think with my heart and other times I think with my head.
But good or bad and regardless of which, I'm always thinking - Except of course when I'm not.
Animals like me, most kids adore me, the majority of teenagers I've come in contact with respect me, and senior citizens still call refer to me as "as a young lady." And I'm Ok with all that.
As far as reading maps - I'm almost completely incapable.
As far as North, South, East, or West, I'm totally incapable.
As far as writing, some say I'm OK, others think I'm more than OK, but everybody agrees that I need more work in all aspects of editing.
I've embraced sushi and have learned to bolus for it - because I am a Diabetes Savant~
I like my food spicy and savory and everything else in between!
I love Vanilla and chocolate ANYTHING as long as it's not those disgusting, cheap vanilla/chocolate candles/room fresheners.
Every aspect of the the ocean makes me happy.
And I will wear a red dress over a beige dress any day of the week.
At times I wear my heart on my sleeve and I always wear my pancreas clipped to my hip, except when it's hidden on my thigh - all sexy spy like.
I don't shy away from being a person with diabetes - I've embraced it - and for more than awhile, it's worked for me quite nicely.
But I'm always surprised when someone shies away from me because of diabetes.
The amount of times this has actually happened to me in the last 30+ years of living with diabetes adds up to less than the amount of fingers on 1 hand - in this case, let's say the left hand, because I'm left handed. For the record, I have 5 fingers on my left hand.
OK, it's happened twice in 30+ years - which is just so minuet in the grand scheme of Kelly.
Anyway, on those very rare occasions when the memory of someone deciding not to move forward and get to know me because of a busted pancreas pop into my head, a big part of me wants to shake those morons (whose names I can't even remember) to their very core and tell them: Good riddance and I feel sorry for you - because seriously, you don't know what you missed!
And the the other part of my brain is like: First of all, what the hell made you think of that train wreck? Which is immediately followed by:THANK YOU GOD FOR LETTING ME DODGE THAT BULLET!
And then I never think about them again - Except of course, when I do, And then I breathe a sigh of relief.