Chameleon
This thing happens to me, wherever I go.
I fit in. Chris hates it. So does my mother, but Chris hates it more. I don’t care. I know there is nothing I can do about it anyway, and I think it’s only kinda skin deep, sorta. At any rate, I find myself turning into a Texan, a little at a time.
- I’m speaking slowly, or more slowly. Or less rapid-fire. I think. Anyway, there might be more than one syllable in most of my words now.
- I might care a little bit about the Dallas Cowboys, but I’ll still deny it.
- “There is nothing wrong with wearing metallic accessories around town during the day,” I say to myself.
- Big belts intrigue me.
- Makeup. I haz it.
- On the spectrum of blonde, I used to be here
<Blonde>—————————————————————X—-<Brunette>
and now I am here
<Blonde>————-X——————————————————<Brunette>
which I have done a couple of times before, but this time around I like it.
- I’m kinda proud of the fact that we have the hottest summers and the biggest fires and the best public universities and the craziest politics.
- We’re gonna execute a murderer and I’m happy to see him fry. I haven’t felt this way since Florida toasted Ted Bundy back in the eighties.
- I’m getting passionate about BBQ.
- I think nice is better than smart.
Nice is better than smart?????
“Self,” I say to myself. “Who are you and what have you done with me.”
Dance with the Reaper 
I’ve preferred Nice to Smart for many years, even though I’m one of those New Yawkers y’all think of as rude 🙂
Nice better than smart. Hmmm. I think there is a case to be made. If you take awhile to mull this over, I, for one, would be very interested in your thoughts.
Do you distinguish smart from, say, knowledgeable? How exactly-ish do you define smart?
Chameleon – Your Granny was not a chameleon, but she had a gift for blurring boundaries that allowed her to be such an extraordinarily enchanting listener. (She was, after all, a drama major at Vasaar [Class of ’32].) So there may be a nature/nurture factor that has gone into your chameleon-ness.