Sunday, January 7

What you see is a reflection of the way you think.

One of my old childhood friends got married two weeks ago Saturday (I had to zoom in on the picture I was sent via email; she looks like me, a little). One of my new childhood friends just announced her forthcoming behitchment yesterday. My sister got married this summer. One of my best friends is hitched (I've known him several years longer than his wife has known him), another one almost was . . . How come everybody is getting married, I want to know.

I have a picture of me in a wedding dress when I was maybe 6 or 7 years old; it was a friend's mother's wedding dress she let us try on when we were looking for things to do on a rainy day. I kinda look happy, but I can't be sure. My little hands are clutched in the stiff white fabric, trying to show the fullness of the skirt to whoever was behind the camera. I have wispy brown hair and bangs! Well, no fringe-bangs, now--at least, they've grown down to my knees with the rest of my hair. And brown skin; I'm very pale, now. Did I even know it was supposed to be a wedding dress? Was I happy?

Right, I've done too many psychological indicators/examinations/tests; I think this exercise is supposed to be a self-applied Rorschach. Anyway, I suppose I ought to think about the idea. What good will it do? I don't know. But I do think it is a very important procrastinatory device. Back to the paper.

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