Scars

I have a weird relationship with scars. I hate them when they first show up, and I bitch and moan about how they're marring my perfect beauty. But after a while, I get used to them. They become a part of me, a part of my body that I expect to see. Of course, the moment that happens, they disappear back into my skin, never to be seen or heard from again. So, I'm going to catalog them here, those that are present along with those that have vanished, so that I can remember. And you can know how clumsy I am.

1) Face Craters

My face is littered with scars from acne. It's just a fact that I deal with. I tend not to notice these, because even if that one right above my lip finally goes away, another will pop up right on the other side of my mouth in short order.

2) Lefty

Ah, lefty. The scar that solidified for me the difference between left and right. When I was 9. (I had a remarkable amount of difficulty with the whole left vs. right thing. I remember once my mom indicated to me which of my arms was my left and which was my right, and then I turned around and gestured with my left arm and said, "So this is still right, right?") Lefty was this long crescent-shaped line on the inside of my left arm, that I got from a ring of metal with some scented oil in it that had been on top of a light bulb. I was playing with the lamp that contained said light bulb, and knocked off the ring in the process. It rolled down my left arm, leaving a curved line that stuck around for years. I first noticed it had disappeared right around when I was applying for college, and felt much sadder about it than I meant to.

3) Seat Belt

My mom and I got in a minor car accident the summer after my freshman year in college. We both walked away, but I managed to get a giant friction burn across the upper portion of my chest from my seat belt. It hurt a lot, but it was actually the last thing that started hurting immediately after the accident. (The first thing I noticed immediately was that my face stung from the airbag smacking it and breaking my glasses.) This scar mercifully faded very quickly - I was not happy about having a parallelogram engraved right where shirts open, and by a couple of months into sophomore year it was gone.

4) Lock

This scar was from the same car accident mentioned above. I'm not entirely sure, but I think I got it when my right arm was jammed against the door-unlocking switch on the passenger side door. Regardless, it started out as this strangely deep gash in my arm, which would have been alarming if not for the fact that it was very small - maybe an inch long, at most. I guess it could best be described as a gouge. Anyway, I grew to like the scar left behind, because it was at the perfect level for my left hand to touch when I crossed my arms. It faded very recently - in fact, I was in AWLW when I reached for it and realized for the first time that it was gone.

5) Louie

I had a scar on my upper left thigh that I was quite fond of. I got it the summer after freshman year (this was a dangerous summer for me) when Louie, an overly-enthusiastic dog at the shelter, started humping my leg and wouldn't get down. He wrapped his asshole-y doggy arms around my thigh and held on for dear life, leaving one long claw mark that didn't even bleed, but just sort of hung around on my leg for months. On the bright side, I didn't have to deal with him after that, because no one else had that problem with him, and despite the teasing I endured for being Louie's "one true love," it was worth not having to contend with him.

6) Forehead

I have a barely noticeable scar on my forehead that I've had since birth. Apparently it's from where the doctor grabbed my head with forceps when I was on my way out. It's faded over time, but it's definitely still there. It's more of a smudge than a scar - just a touch of tan by my hairline. I like it, and to be honest, I really hope it doesn't go away, because then the only familiar marks on my body will be my freckles and moles, and those are rather too numerous to catalog.