Hey I’m Tara!
Right now I’m going to set you up with all the TARA-BUL puns that go along with my name. Personally, I think that Tara is a TARA-IFIC name, but others find it absolutely TARA-FYING.
The thing that I don’t like about that business up there is that terrific is the only positive one, and it’s the one that almost doesn’t really work.
This is me:
I am not your typical girl. And I don’t mean that in the sassy, “I AM NOT your average girl, I am a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man!” way. I mean it in the biological, anthropological way. I am six feet two inches tall. It doesn’t seem like a big deal to me until I see pictures like this:
hide the women and children. It’s TARA-FYING.
I honestly forget that I am large. And then people are always sticking me in the back of the line when it’s time to take pictures, and refusing to let me enter the bouncy castle at parties.
But that’s not really what the blog is about! I’m not good at basketball, or volleyball, and I am probably not model material:
If I went on “America’s Next Top Model” there would be too many cat fights between Tyra and me about who was the most attractive.
And really, there is only so long I can talk about how my height has led to many shenanigans. What this blog is really about is being a woman. Being a girl. I can’t figure it out. I want to be sexy, but I want to be a tomboy. I’m a feminist, but does that mean that I should reject all modern standards of beauty? I’m looking for a job but I can’t find one. This blog is about my struggle to figure out how to be a girl. Because right now I am just girl-ish.
Ok, I promise that I won’t start every blog with a title like an episode of Friends.