03 June 2010

not whistling dixie

[click image of most supremely 99-like hairdo]

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So many, many years I couldn't leave my house without men falling all over me. Any difficulty whatever meant choosing between eight or ten applicants for easing it. Instant attention for anything. And I wasn't even famous.

I was in a beauty parlor getting something very scary drastic done to my hair. I was twenty-six, about dead of anxiety, when it dawned on me that I better not let the matter of my looks do this to me, better not let myself identify as what I look like, better not consign myself to a desperation not even surgery can erase. Still, having gotten the jump on it like that, it crosses my mind every time something goes wrong, that big pool of men who used to vie to make it right for me.

Deadly stuff.
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3 comments:

  1. Oh, Paulina. Thanks for the jolt, 99! No wonder I live here...

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  2. Yah, dass some gorgeous stuff dare... Paulina and Prague....

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  3. Hey - where'd my comment go?

    ReplyDelete

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