I also have...

Many moons ago, a friend posted an entry in her blog telling her readers about what she has. I really liked that post, since I usually enjoy hearing things about people I like. Since, I don’t have much else to say today, I’ll follow in her footsteps and try to create something similar.

I have long wavy blonde hair
First of all, let me explain that I do not know the difference between the spelling blond, and blonde. With that said, I’ll continue. I was born with wisps of wavy blonde hair. As I grew up it turned to spiral curls and finally back to wavy. Although, my blonde has gotten darker as I’ve gotten older, I am still a true blonde (with a bit of help from my good friend Brooke). My hair has always been one of the few things I enjoy about the way I look—I’ll easily spend unspeakable amounts of money getting it carefully cut or purchasing high-end conditioner. It is my biggest splurge and why shouldn’t it be. Soon, it’ll turn gray and the texture will change—why not enjoy it now?

I have hazel green eyes
Inherited from my mom and she, from her dad (my grandfather). Green eyes of every shade run in my family. In fact, no one has ever been born into my family with brown eyes… ever.

I have freckles
Thank you Grandma, with your red hair and freckly skin, for your contribution to my skin tone. Every descendant of my mom’s family is littered with little freckles. As a kid, I remember hating them—they were on my face, arms, and worst of all, my knees! When I was a cheerleader, I used to try and pull my skirt down whenever I sat, so the people next to me wouldn’t have too much opportunity to see the constellation Leo mapped out on my boney knees. Now, I let them fade by faithfully wearing sun block and blending them in with makeup. I don’t hate them the way I used to, but I don’t think I’ll ever learn to love them either. I remember reading on a stupid placard somewhere that “a face without freckles is like a night without stars.” I remember thinking, “good luck finding a guy who feels that way.” Eventually, I did. He is more freckled than I’ve ever been. Our poor children.

I also have boobs
My friend covered this subject, so since I have a pair, I will too. She was right when she said breasts are part blessing, part curse. They are a blessing because they are fun—why deny it. They make your clothes look better, and they have a way of attracting attention. They are a curse because after they reach a certain size, they can hurt your back and because they can attract unwanted attention. A woman’s journey with her boobs is mostly embarrassing and amusing.

I have two tattoos
I got the first when I was 17 (underage, I know). My sister lied about my age for me at a Ft. Lauderdale tattoo place. We have matching flower tattoos—hers on her back, mine on my right ankle. I got the second at the same time and place as the friend who inspired this post—Austin, Texas, around the end of May, 1997. It is a 3.5 inch Celtic cross on my left ankle based on a necklace I was wearing at the time. I love them both.

I have four visible scars
All of them had stitches at one point and two are related. The first is probably the most visible—it is on my face between my nose and upper lip. I was born with a lateral cleft lip and palette, so the scar actually extends from the base of my nose to the back of my throat. That was a lot of stitches. Yuck. The second is from a gall bladder surgery I didn’t really need, back when I was in college. The third is related to the first and is placed perfectly on the ridge of my left hip. It was created by a talented surgeon who made me both a bone marrow donor and recipient in the same surgery. The last, I received by kneeling down on a piece of broken glass while I was playing when I was about 5. It is on my right shin (tibial area).

That’s all.