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2002-09-19 - 12:10 p.m.

I was idea-challenged today so I went searching the online journal prompt sites seeking sweet inspiration.

Look what I found:

Celebrate your body in a poem. Praise your curves, and embrace any fabulous imperfections.

I skipped over the idea and browsed the other 364 offerings. And soon found myself right back at the body celebration prompt. Hmmm. I didn't have a full-length mirror available, so I did an eyeball body scan. Big toes to the tiny twins.

Then I started laughing.

Once I shut down the laughter, I decided what the hell, it's as good as any other nonsense idea. Then I went about organizing my thoughts, and decided I needed a couple of lists. One list for curves I could praise; the other for imperfections I could embrace. My balance sheet tipped and teetered and crashed to one side! I have a helluva lot of fabulous things!

Reagan was in The White House and The Beatles were singing Yesterday the last time my framework had curves. Ah, who am I tryin to fool, I've never had an hour-glass figure and was never curvaceous, petite, lissome or willowy. I'm angular and long-limbed. I have monkey arms, and blouses and blazers and such with long sleeves end about two inches above my wrists.

One night, years ago, I was riding a bar stool between mud volleyball matches at Mark Twain Days In Hannibal when a rumhound took a break from counting pink elephants to stumble over to me.

"Hey, girly," His bloodshot eyes twirled in his head. "Your legs go from the ground alllllllllll the way up to your butt!"

Well, yeah. Helps me keep my butt up off the ground.

I'm not fleshy, but I am getting flabby! And getting a bit paunchy (goes without saying I'm punchy!). Plenty of freckled meat to embrace.

My chest is also embraceable. My twins will never crawl out of a wanton red bustier! I will not be appearing as a model in a teddy in a Victoria's Secret catalog. Instead, look in the dictionary. Right there by flat-chested you'll find my picture.

I neither walk nor talk like an angel. I gallivant and lope about, and I'm gravel-voiced. Fabulous imperfections!

Obviously I have Dumbo ears, big enough to always be in the way. At least once a week I sear them with a curling iron, and since I wear my hair very short, I end up with red jug ears flapping in the wind.

And speaking of hair. The wispy, snow-white hair topping my frame makes me look like a Q-Tip!

"Embrace me, my sweet embraceable me." -- Ira Gershwin!

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