HA HA...I said breast...

There are days when you strip yourself naked, and you see the scars of the past. Some good, some bad, and well some are just painful reminders of why life just doesn't always go your way.

I have this scar across my left foot that reminds me that I should not run around barefoot, but I still do. What an experience. My great-grandparents had just died within a week of each other, and well my best friend at the time, Aspen, and I were running around her house barefoot as usual. It's what all Texas children did, I don't think I ever wore my shoes, unless my mother made me. I'd still sneak them off from time to time. Anyway, long story short, they were remodeling their house, and well I cut my poor little foot straight across the top and had to have 12 staples. What a bonding experience I had with my dad who had to take me to the ER, and hold me down as they numbed my poor foot. I don't think I've ever caused such a ruckus and actually hit a doctor since. But oh well, I'm sure that with time, it could possibly happen again. When we were at the ER they just happened to place me in the same room that they placed my grandmother in just before she had died. Me with my big brown eyes, looks up at my daddy, and asks "Am I gonna die too?" breaking my poor dad's heart I'm sure. So he made the doctor give us a different room. The room that I screamed until I was hoarse, the room where that poor doctor got kicked in the face. Hey, I was little, and well it hurt. I think he deserved it. (off topic I know...but remember that old show Rescue 911? My doctor was on that show the following week. I was so tickled that a "famous" doctor had stapled my foot shut. I so bragged about this for weeks...)

If you pay close attention to my nose, I have a nice little scar where I did have a gash, and an oh so bruised nose. Now that was painful, and I cried like a little girl when that happened. My brother head-butted me after I was being a complete and utter bitch. I deserved it, I know. But OH MY FUCKING GOD did it bleed. I had blood running down my face, and it was swollen. I was for sure that he had broken my nose. So I cried some more. So now I have this nice little scar, that gets hidden my glasses but I think it's cool.

And to my last mentioned scar, which inhabits my breasts. This one will probably be funny as hell to most, which it is, but then I think about it, and its not really funny at all. Basically my job branded me. A flying popcorn kernel made it's way down my shirt, and burned the ever living hell out of my breasts. I still have this ugly scar, that I know I'll have to explain one day...which could get really interesting. "No it's not a third nipple..harder...." Yes I just went there. For I know you all don't have virgin eyes or ears!! You can't convince me otherwise. I've never been in such a hurry to get something off my breasts in all my life. I made a mad dash to the back of the stand, and well thank God no one was back there, because well they would have been flashed. Not like that hasn't happened at work...poor Kevin, and that's the other Kevin...not Becker...There wasn't enough burn spray in the world to save me that day. I made my way to the restroom's. Locked myself in a stall, tore off my shirt and bra, and sprayed that aloe shit all over me, and cried because I knew my poor breasts...yes it got both of them, would never be the same. Blisters and boobies, just don't mix.

I swear showers make me think of crazy shit...