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2001-05-08 || 3:13 p.m. || polaroids || catalogue. polaroids cubicle: me, owen, joe dancing. snow-lined highway in idaho, from the vantage point of the passenger seat of my car. me and my sister on saturday. all dressed up. kelly looks beautiful, model-like, with a sprig of mint hanging out of her mouth. i look. hmm. i don't really like the way i look. (someone saw the picture today and said we could be twins and i don't know where in the world that comes from. not twins. sisters, possibly, distantly. it looks as though we have been cut from separate pictures and hastily reattached. i have an awful expression on my face, all cheeks and dimples, and kelly's face is uplifted, open-mouth smile, tanned, hair fashionably in place. i know it wouldn't solve anything but i am having serious thoughts of shaving my head right now, in the bathroom next to the break room, and joining a convent. because there are always polaroids. there are always these feelings.) (it's that quiet resigned disappointment. from white to gray to the colors filled in. you watch it develop and remember, oh yes. this is what i look like. and you kind of accept it but you're kind of upset by it, the way you have been since you were nine. and sometimes you allow yourself to fold the picture until you can't anymore and throw it away. or cut it into little pieces. or hide it in a drawer to deal with later because maybe it'll change, maybe you are just being too hard on yourself, maybe you don't really know what you look like at all.) guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |