Get yo’ wing wet!

Sometimes people say thing and they stick in my mind like an app running in the background, using all my data.  I’ve had this particular nugget of wisdom lodged in there for a few weeks now. It won’t go away, and it’s courtesy of my good derby friend Wry & Ginger.

“Sometimes you just need to get yo’ wing wet”.

Yes, there was context, but all I can picture is a naked chicken dipping its wing into a pool of hot sauce, like a swimmer trying to figure out if the water is warm enough to take the plunge.

toes wing

The gist of the statement was that even though the usual way is usually awesome (in this case my husband’s preference for his chicken wings to be coated in hot sauce and then baked ‘till crispy to get rid of that disgusting goopy wet feeling), sometimes we just want a change (or a wet wing, as the case may be).

I, like most people, fear change. But sometimes I need it.  We need it. I’m not saying that you should quit your job and leave your spouse to go and train full time with a “power coach” to try to be the person who can hit a golf ball the farthest in the whole wide world, for example [true story, but we’ll save that one for another time], but maybe we can be a little more open to the possibility of trying new things.

Style evolves, preferences shift. 10 year old me would have been horrified at the thought of eating raw fish. Adult me would be sad if sushi weren’t a valid lunchtime option. I mean, if no one every changed, I’d still be sporting a bowl haircut and a pink sweat suit.

So go ahead. Get yo’ wing wet.

FYI: this was written yesterday in contemplation of changing my hair. Being one to practice what I preach, I lightened my hair an entirely noticeable few shades. I swear. See?

It's totally more medium brown and slightly less dark brown.
It’s totally more medium brown and slightly less dark brown.
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