A slave to my comments

Since I only have like 3 people who have commented on here, I guess I should answer a question on my comments page.  They wanted to know about my swan transformation.  Just so you know, you asked for it...

I was one of those adorable babies you see on the Sears Photo department posters.  In fact, I was on the poster at 3.  My parents had taken us to the local Sears for pictures, and they liked mine so much I ended up being the "poster child" if you will.  Things kind of went done hill from there.

They discovered that my Father had a rare disease that made him allergic to the earth.  Well, he wasn't exactly allergic to the earth, but fungus that resided there.  It attacked his eyes, causing him to lose part of his vision.  I, unfortunately, had inherited this disease.

It isn't a big deal.  They just recommend not spending huge amounts of time rolling in mud.  I was five when they found out, and it had already done damage to my right eye.  I had to wear these horribly out of porportioned glasses, because my left eye was still fine.

This made me a bit goofy looking, because of the distortion through the glasses.  My right eye looked waaaay smaller then my left eye.  Teasing didn't really happen, because of the playground incident mentioned earlier in the blog.  I was a bit of a bad ass, so to say, and the kids just didn't pick on me.  I knew though...

My lips were a bit to big for my face, and freckles appeared to cover my entire nose bridge area.  It wasn't something I lamented about, just something I accepted at an early age.  I wasn't what society deemed cute, beautiful, or even plain.  Looking back at pictures of myself I just look goofy.  Everyone says that because of the horrid clothes our parents put on us, but in my case it was true.

The onslought of puberty only compounded my problems in the looks department.  I never got that huge growth spurt most kids get, and around the time high school started I was becoming chubby on top of goofy looking.  Let me tell you, this is not a good combination.

I failed to realized that by the time my Senior year was over that the freckles were starting to fade, and that the contacts that replaced my glasses showed nothing but great big dark brown eyes to the world.  High School had been a blast, but just in the friend department.  I have always had tons of friends, and despite what all the teen movie cliches out there tell you, I was one of the most popular people in school.

Around the time I was 19 was when the perverbial shit hit the fan.  All of a sudden I had a huge growth spurt, going from 5'2 to 5'8.  I thinned out a bit.  A visit to the doctor also revealed I was thisclose to becoming a diabetic, so I lost any remaining extra weight.

Something miraculous happend.  I had boobs.  Like really big ones.  Long legs...No freckles...No glasses...  My features now fit my face.  In my minds eye I still was that little dorky kid, but others noticed my ugly duckling to swan change.

I haven't quite felt comfortable with my self since.  Maybe it's because I spent my whole life with the I don't give a shit what I look like attitude.  I wouldn't say I had low self asteem, that I was just a realist.  That was the way I was, and I dealt with it.

Going from goofy to Barbie is not easy, especially when you aren't equipped to handle it.  People are so different to you.  Women, men, sales people....Just everyone.  To quote Joe Walsh, "Everyone's so different, but I haven't changed."  Not on the inside, at least.

I always thought guys wanted to be my friend, and they practically had to hit me over the head before I realized they liked me.  Friends I had for years suddenly didn't want me around their boyfriends.  Women became catty, men became insincere about their intentions towards me.  The list goes on and on.  I had many problems during my early 20's, mostly because I felt like an alien had taken over my entire world...

At 33 years old I have grown acustom to my new body and the image it portrays.  There are times that I'll be in a meeting at work, trying to get through a presentation or something, and one of the bosses will say, "Hey, you know you could be a model if you wanted to."  This is my reality, and as the movie says, sometimes it bites.

Before my three readers comment about how I sound arrogant, I'm really not trying to come off that way.  I am still that realist little girl.  I don't put my stock in my looks, and could really care less about them still.  There are many times I wish the alien would give the goofy looking little girl her body back...