Show Some Skin – My Homework
Recently I attended the first ever LatAm Bloggers Blowout. Sadly I was only able to attend the Friday night blowout, I had to miss the subsequent Saturday and Sunday blowouts.
The best part was meeting all those great bloggers. Us bloggers are a bunch of blabbermouth extroverts so there was no shortage good conversation. I wish I’d had more time to get to know everyone, but there’s always next time. Thanks again to Wayne for sacrificing his sanity to organize the event, he did a bang up job.
Attendees of the Blogger Blowout were given blog homework assignments which came from the book “No One Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Ideas for Your Blog” by Margaret Mason.
My assignment:
How did you get those scars? The one on your thumb is from when you were three and you wondered whether scissors could cut skin. The one on your stomach is from your emergency appendectomy. Your boss figured you had to be in the hospital, because it was the only reason you’d ever be late to work without calling.
Your scars indicate what type of life you’ve lived. Whether you’re athletic, fighting for your health, or just occasionally clumsy, let each scar remind you of the story behind it.
My oldest scar is in the middle of one kneecap. The Momsicle tells me that I acquired it by jumping off a chair when I was about 18 months. I don’t remember exactly what she said and I don’t remember the event.
My next oldest scar is on my face, just by my eyebrow. It causes the nearby eyebrow hairs to poke out at weird angles. I was about 6 and I was trying to pull some piece of clothing out of my sister’s hands. I remember it being her clothing, or rather, I remember myself being guilty. She let go of the item and my own momentum sent me headlong into the corner of my bedpost. One inch over and I would have hit my eyeball on that bedpost.
Then I’ve got a scar just to the side of my other eye, it’s very small. This one was from a raging lunatic who had taken an ungodly amount of LSD and was drunk as well (terrible combination that is). He threw me down 3 flights of stairs. Before I passed out I remember hearing his mother yell “Call the cops before he kills her.” It apparently took 6 cops to get him into the patrol car, but I don’t remember that part. I’m lucky to remember anything at all.
I’ve also got a scar on one foot from a drop of hot oil that flew from a pan. That should have taught me not to cook barefoot…but it didn’t.
And my most recent scar is from a glass that one of my kitties broke. I brought the glass upstairs. When it was empty I placed it near the top of the stairs so I would remember to bring it down. Well my Lilah cat went romping and hit it and broke it. Then I walked by, didn’t see it, and got a deep cut in the top of one foot. That cut healed quickly, but left a distinct scar which still hurts.
I’ve got a few more scars from surgeries, but all were laparoscopic, so there’s almost no scarring on the outside. The inside, well, that’s another issue…
April 28th, 2008 23:56
Holy hell! Who was the LSD guy? Not a lover, I hope!
April 29th, 2008 09:49
I plead the 5th. He was not a healthy person and he was not in my life very long. And it was a loooong time ago, back when I was young and stupid and aimless.
April 29th, 2008 11:17
I love that you call you r mama Momsicle! heehee! I call mine the rents or the moms. Seems like eyebrow scars are the in deal-i-o and I feel pretty cool and special that I match you and Heather in Paradise in that regard.
Until what age are we allowed to call ourselves young, stupid, and aimless *makes guilty face*??
April 29th, 2008 11:33
Lisa – It started with a grandfather getting called Pop, that became Popsicle. So Mom is naturally Momsicle. I usually sign emails to my daughter as Momsicle.
In my family all names are subject to mutation. Most pets and most people in my family have their names mutated by the rest of us as some point.
April 29th, 2008 11:34
Oh and I’m still aimless and stupid. And no gray hair yet, so I guess I’m young too!
April 30th, 2008 13:51
Dang! You don’t have any gray hairs!? I wish I could be mad at you for that!!!
April 30th, 2008 18:02
When I got my passport I wrote none as the answer for the question about scars and birthmarks. It just seemed so lame to me, if I get into an accident so horendous that they can’t identify me, what good will knowing about my scar on my knee do?
I have enough gray hair for both of us, but I am planning on being old and senile any day now.
Great post!
regards,
Theresa
April 30th, 2008 18:17
When I was a kid my mother told me this family myth. It’s that our women don’t get gray hair, but all at once we turn white when we are really old. But then she started to get gray at about 50, so it’s a bunch of BS. Anyway no gray yet, but you never know when the first one will hit.
May 2nd, 2008 13:00
Teresa – I’ve never included any of my scars in any kind of legal description of me either. But when I renewed my FM2 recently the woman making me sign everything wrote down the scar by my eyebrow. I was surprised because I don’t even see it when I look in the mirror, I mean I know it’s there, but I forget to see it. Or something.