I never seem to look the same in a picture compared to when I I look in the mirror.
When I look in my eyes, and I'm totally honest with myself, and I look deep in the mirror, I know that I am at least moderately cute en femme.
Makes me wonder about that native saying regarding a camera's ability to steal one's soul.
Also makes me wonder about mirrors and what they might actually tell you.
 

Are there any ceremonial proceedings that need to be followed for the death of a wig?
What do you do when your ageing hair peice must be laid to rest?
I mean... I still got most of my stuffed animals. Maybe I can just find a nice display for her to live out the remainder of her life.
 

My therapist has me working pretty studiously on "reframing" situations and ideas in order to better cope with life. This morning I decided to use this little mind trick on a few favorite antagonistic terms in order to neutralize the venom inherent in their sting.

The negative powers that be have held these wonderful words hostage for far too long!

Sometimes I pretend that that time when my mom freaked out on me when I wore her lipstick was merely because it was the inappropriate shade for me.
But, sadly, in my heart, I know that that is not the case.

You know, I'm floundered, sometimes.
I see or hear Demi Lovato, and I'm totally captivated. I do find her attractive.
But then I get a bit upset/jealous and also think, "Who does she think she is being that pretty?" knowing that I will never have her hair in a million years.
I'm at once beholden to her wonders, yet somewhat envious.
Existence is sometimes such a strange thing.