28 September 2009

Stories of Our Lives

"I like scars.  They are our stories recorded on our bodies," said a college roommate one morning when I was horrified by her excitement over a cigarette burn scar.  I still think she's crazy for being drunk enough not to realize she was being burned by a cigarette.  And to think it was cool when she got home the next morning.  But, she had a point -- scars are life stories recorded on your body.

There's the chicken pox scar from the end of kindergarten.  Which I hated because I had to miss water day at school.  I really wanted to play on the slip n' slides.

The bump on my lip from when I learned the hard way never to run with you hands in your pockets.

On my left elbow is the scar from when I decided to be a hot shot on my bike.  I forgot that you have pull the handlebars up before you try to jump a curb.

A scar on my knee taught me houw much you use your knees.  And just how much a klutz I am.  Because I kept cutting the wound open again.

There's a scar on my knuckle because I was coordinate enough to cut myself int eh same spot each and every time I put laundry in the trunk to take home my freshman year of college.

I have scars criss-crossing older scars; scars that have faded; scars that can't be seen by the naked eye; and scars that will come.  However, each one is unique unto only me....and each one comes with its own story.  Yeah, I guess you could say I like my scars.  Got any scar stories to share?

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