Well, I woke up at 9 this morning and no miracle had occured rendering me un-sunburned. So now the red hurting bits are dutifully slathered in aloe plus lidocaine, because that's the only kind I have. Also I'm not complaining because it doesn't hurt anymore. My only problem with that shit is it's BRIGHT TURQUOISE BLUE and if you think, "I'll just put on a new layer without washing off the old," and then follow through on that thought, your skin starts to look blue and lumpy.
It's vile.
And itchy.
I held my camera up around eye level for this picture--this is pretty much what I see every time I look down. Click here if you wanna see how red I am
(or if you just wanna see how big my chest is 
Although I didn't post the naked one...sorry...)
On a completely different note, I dreamed about that ex-fiance again this morning. It was sort of a continuation of the last dream, actually. I was moving all my stuff back in...when he told me that he'd be glad to help me later, but he had to leave because he had a date with another former ex, Kelly. I somehow conveyed to him that if he went, I would leave again. And he did, so I packed up all my miraculously moved-in shit. When I was ready to leave, I dragged it all outside and over his passed-out-drunk body laying in the yard. It was very odd. Why after all this time am I dreaming about him?? Anyone?
Random snippet of poem in my head...and I can't even remember who wrote it. Gerard Manley Hopkins, maybe?:
Blue-bleak embers, ah, my dear
Fall, gall themselves
And gash gold-vermillion.
It's vile.
And itchy.
I held my camera up around eye level for this picture--this is pretty much what I see every time I look down. Click here if you wanna see how red I am
(or if you just wanna see how big my chest is Although I didn't post the naked one...sorry...)
On a completely different note, I dreamed about that ex-fiance again this morning. It was sort of a continuation of the last dream, actually. I was moving all my stuff back in...when he told me that he'd be glad to help me later, but he had to leave because he had a date with another former ex, Kelly. I somehow conveyed to him that if he went, I would leave again. And he did, so I packed up all my miraculously moved-in shit. When I was ready to leave, I dragged it all outside and over his passed-out-drunk body laying in the yard. It was very odd. Why after all this time am I dreaming about him?? Anyone?
Random snippet of poem in my head...and I can't even remember who wrote it. Gerard Manley Hopkins, maybe?:
Blue-bleak embers, ah, my dear
Fall, gall themselves
And gash gold-vermillion.
VIEW 13 of 13 COMMENTS
frantic:
i agree its gonna hurt f1 for a while
goblintcat:
LOL! That would make a great episode of Cops! I would love to see the face of the redneck though if it worked!