Scars: A Learning Curve

Scars.

I was just sitting here thinking about them while looking at the scars on my leg. They have been keeping me from wearing short shorts and skirts to show off my shapely gams. I know that it is now the season for covering up, but here in Cali it has been intermittently in the 70s so I have yet to put away my warm weather wardrobe. (Actually, who am I kidding? I just use my summer cloths to layer, layer, layer away the cooler months.)

This feeling, it's reminiscent of the emotional scars that kept me from wearing skirts and dresses just a few short years ago. Those emotional scars kept me wondering, worried that people would judge based solely on my appearance.

And now there are these very real, very visible scars that represent the depth of the trauma and pain that I have experienced. And I'm afraid once again that someone will judge me harshly based upon their notion of what my scars may represent.

But still, I want to feel about my scars the same way I feel about my fat. I want to apply the same 'I don't give a fuck' attitude and just wear whatever the hell I want. And it dawns on me right this second, as I am writing this, that the only way I am going to get there is to just say 'fuck it!' I am cute as hell and wear what I goddamn well please.

The Thrill of the Hunt

I can only imagine that this is how men hunting wild game must feel.

I get this feeling, passing a thrift store that has something meant for me. I know this because I am an experienced thrift hunter. I get this feeling...I can't describe it, but I just know.

I walk in and head straight for the racks, as my adrenaline begins to climb. I know exactly where she is dangling, just waiting for me to pick her off. I sculk up softly, so as not to spook her. She and I know this dance all too well. I finger through the hangers...not to quickly, now.

As I grasp the hangers and pry them gently apart to expose the length and breadth of her, I know she's the one. I let'er lead me to the fitting rooms, even though I already know she's the one. Once she's in my sights, that's it. She'll be coming home so I can show her off, my trophy. My day's kill.

The high is like none other.

TFC: Halloween 2013

I went to visit my sister for Halloween this year and took a whole bunch of my new thrifty finds with me to do a photo shoot. I was using the '2 birds, 1 stone' philosophy. I should know by now that these types of plans don't really pan out. But, as luck would have it, I ended up with a treasure trove of Halloween pictures.

I also didn't expect to get to see our other sister and her miniature gang of thugs, aka my nieces and nephews.

My crazy sisters: the Giraffe and the Manly Man

Needless to say, a party was had....3 adult women and 8 children between the ages of 4 and 14 on a trick-or-treating adventure through the tough streets of Modesto, CA.

Let the candy swap begin!

And now the cuteness of me:

My new asos dress made a perfect doll dress for my costume